I didn't get married until I was 45. Not particularly by my choice—I was never one of those guys who thought he needed to do X before marriage—but that was the way God planned it, even though I would never counsel anyone to follow my path in that regard.
I often tell my wife that since marriage, these have been the best years of my life, and I mean it. I had already hit middle age, and according to many accounts, my best years were already behind me. But to the contrary, these years are a precious gift.
Eating on my own tonight so I can get an early bedtime. Spied some rice to heat up. Wasn't really anything to put it on it, so I experimented: butter, peanut butter, coriander, garlic powder, turmeric, and a dash of paprika and onion powder.
The verdict: I'd eat it again.
Tim Gallant retweeted
On re-enchantment: we should be transfixed by blades of grass, sunrises and songbirds.
We don't need to search out the spooky. The lust for the spooky is a vice, a form of ingratitude.
Tim Gallant retweeted
On radically different incomes life in America can be surprisingly similar.
Imagine three single mothers, each raising a ten-year-old boy. One is a public-school teacher in Tampa earning $50,000 a year. Another is a lawyer in Atlanta earning $200,000. The third is a venture-capital partner in Chicago earning $1 million.
On paper, they inhabit three different Americas. One earns twenty times more than another. One is 25th percentile im wealth the other 84th the last one top 1%. They describe inequality in the USA.
Now look at their sons.
All three wake up with electricity, running water, refrigeration, heating and air conditioning. They eat plenty of food, ride in safe modern cars, wear sneakers, watch YouTube, play the same video games, use similar phones and tablets and have access to vaccines, antibiotics, dentists and modern medicine.
One goes to public school, another to private school, the third perhaps to an elite private school. One flies economy once a year, another travels frequently, the third may occasionally fly private. Their houses, neighborhoods and vacations are different.
But their actual daily lives are far less different than their mothers’ incomes suggest.
The socialist argument has always been about equality of outcomes.
Well, look around. In much of ordinary material life, capitalism has already produced something remarkably close to it.
The millionaire’s refrigerator does not keep milk twenty times fresher. Her son’s iPhone does not make YouTube twenty times more entertaining. He cannot eat twenty breakfasts, sleep twenty hours at once or enjoy a video game twenty times more because his mother earns twenty times as much.
For several hours every day, these three boys may be doing almost exactly the same thing.
This would have been unimaginable two centuries ago. The child of a rich family and the child of a laborer often lived in genuinely different physical worlds. One had plentiful food, warmth, books, servants, doctors and transportation. The other might lack adequate calories or clean water.
Industrial capitalism destroyed much of that inequality by doing something socialism never managed very well: making formerly scarce things cheap enough for almost everyone.
Cars, refrigerators, televisions, air conditioning, computers and smartphones began as luxuries and became mass-market goods. The entrepreneur became rich precisely by making what the rich had available to everybody else.
And that may explain one of the great ironies of the new American enthusiasm for socialism. Capitalism’s victories are now so complete that nobody notices them.
Clean water is not considered wealth. Neither is electricity. Nor refrigeration. Nor an air-conditioned bedroom, instant global communication, unlimited music, thousands of films or a computer in your pocket more powerful than anything that existed when many of today’s billionaires were children.
Those things have become invisible because almost everyone has them.
What remains visible are the inequalities capitalism has not eliminated: the mansion, the private school, the beachfront house, the prestigious university, the best neighborhood.
But if the political demand is that ordinary people should be able to enjoy many of the same basic experiences as the rich, something extraordinary has already happened.
Put these families on a chart and the inequality looks enormous.
Put their ten-year-old boys on three sofas at eight o’clock at night, eating pizza in sweatpants and staring at nearly identical screens, and the difference becomes surprisingly hard to see.
Equality of income? Obviously not.
Equality of many of the outcomes that actually fill a human day?
Far more than we admit.
When Jeroboam introduces the worship of the calves to the northern kingdom, is he introducing the worship of gods other than Yahweh? Or is he doing something that, in his own mind, at least, is considerably more limited?
First, I think there is no question that Jeroboam is imitating Aaron action with the golden calf in Exodus 32. So whatever we make of Aaron's intention with the form of worship is what we ought to attribute to Jeroboam. The fact that Jeroboam commissions two calves, while Aaron only made one is a function of location rather than intention; i.e. multiple places of worship, not multiple deities.
The difficulties arise with the recurring plurals in the respective texts. Not the word "gods" itself, as some translations have it; the underlying word is Elohim, which can correctly be rendered either "God" or "gods."
Sailhamer and other commentators, however, fairly adequately show a framework that fits within a (disobedient) Yahwism. The people request "idols" to be made, which refer to images and not intrinsically to other deities; hence, the plurals refer to the images, rather than to new deities.
A number of factors indicate that in neither Exodus nor 1 Kings is the intention to replace Yahweh with other deities.
To begin with, the the initial request by the people is that they want Elohim to "go before us." Where? To the land which was promised specifically by Yahweh.
Significantly, nowhere are new (or old) deities named within Exodus 32. The only deity is Yahweh. Even Yahweh, in informing Moses of what is happening at the foot of the mountain, does not say they have departed to serve other gods, but have departed from the way that he had commanded (Exodus 32:8).
Even more importantly, once the calf is made, Aaron announces, not a rite dedicated to a different deity, but specifically, a feast to Yahweh (Exodus 32:5). In his mind, he and Israel are not forsaking Yahweh himself, which is why no new (or old) gods are named in Exodus 32.
Similar things can be said regarding 1 Kings 12. The issue which Jeroboam is grappling with is not that Yahweh is not the proper deity to worship, but that the present form of worship mandates a location that is unacceptable politically. So Jeroboam commissions a new Aaronic sin.
The observations (which are implicit criticisms) of 1 Kings 12:31 are that Jeroboam (1) "made temples on high places" and (2) "appointed priests from among all the people, who were not from the Levites." These are not the sort of criticisms that would be made were he instituting worship of other deities. Such criticisms would in fact be completely moot. Who cares who the priests are or where worship occurs if you're worshiping the wrong god?
Once again, no deities are named with the advent of Jeroboam's worship. It is a "sin," and despite how grievous the sin is, from Jeroboam's standpoint, it is not a replacement of Yahweh himself.
Finally, it must be underscored that the advent of actual worship of other deities indicates a very significant turning point in the histories of Kings and Chronicles. The worship of Baal by Ahab and those who follow is seen as something dramatically new; and while Jeroboam's sin is portrayed as extremely bad, the narratives underscore that what is happening with Ahab is something new. His evil is "more than all who were before him." The sins of Jeroboam were too light for him; he married the daughter of the Sidonian king and adopted Baal as his god (1 Kings 16: 30, 31). In short, it is only here that gods other than Yahweh are named as the objects of worship; it is only here that the northern kingdom is explicitly exchanging Yahweh for other deities.
It seems to me that this is also the only way we can understand how Jehu can destroy the worship of Baal at the command of Yahweh, and yet not depart from the sin of Jeroboam. He is zealous for Yahweh (2 Kings 10:16), but he is not zealous for what Yahweh has dictated regarding his own worship. Immediately after the lengthy description of how he wipes out Ahab's line and the worship of Baal, we are immediately told: "But Jehu did not turn aside from the sins of Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, which he made Israel to sin—that is, the golden calves that were in Bethel and in Dan" (2 Kings 10:18).
In short, the sins of Jeroboam and those of Ahab are different in kind. In short, the sin of Aaron and of Jeroboam is a violation of the second commandment (and a very strong version of that violation), while that of Ahab is a violation of the first commandment.
Tim Gallant retweeted
Our churches are acting like para-churches until they have the Lord's Supper every week.
- James Jordan
I really, really want to title something "An Embarrassment of Wretches." Like maybe a chapter refuting worm theology.
On the other hand, it would also make a great band name.
Tim Gallant retweeted
I don't govern my ministry according to the approval of theological peer groups.
I fear God, and I serve the people He has actually given me.
I’m as right-wing as I’ve ever been. I believe in patriarchy. I believe civil government ought to obey Jesus Christ. I believe in the Reformed faith, Presbyterianism, postmillennialism, and all the rest of it. I haven’t softened on any of that.
I just don’t care nearly as much anymore whether the online Reformed world, the New Christian Right, or whatever little theological tribe is fashionable this month thinks I’m doing it right.
There is a kind of theological hipsterism that infects small circles. Everybody is too sophisticated to be impressed by anything. Somebody is used by God to build a church, reach people, sees sinners converted, develops leaders, plants churches, and immediately a bunch of guys with microphones explain why none of it counts.
Of course successful men can be wrong. But there is also such a thing as small man’s disease.
There are men who haven’t built much, haven’t led much, haven’t risked much, haven’t accomplished much, but they have developed an extraordinary ability to explain what is wrong with everybody who has.
I’m tired of that spirit. I’m tired of it in the Reformed world, tired of it in politics, tired of it in church circles, and tired of finding it in myself.
I want to build.
I want to see the kingdom of Christ grow. I want to see lost people saved. I want to see men become strong, holy fathers. I want marriages strengthened, children discipled, churches planted, institutions built, worship offered with reverence and joy, and Christians living like they actually believe Jesus Christ is King.
I want warmth. Joy. Hospitality. Holiness. Courage. Excellence. I want people walking into church to know that we are genuinely glad they came and that we desperately want them to know Christ.
It seems like everyone is writing fast and furiously about AI, and I get it, although (candidly) I'm getting a bit exhausted by some people's fixation with it. I will attempt not to get caught up in that fixation myself.
I will say, though, that one thing that rarely gets brought up is that AI is itself an extraordinary human creation. There's all this talk about AI being sterile and inhuman, and so on. While I do get that, at the same time, I think it is a bit misleading. Because pretty much everything that AI has incorporated is fundamentally human: human creativity, human reflection, human data collection, and so on.
That's why I think it's a mistake to argue against AI usage on the basis of a supposed erasure of wonder.
AI does not undercut wonder; it underscores it: all these crazy things that AI is able to do are actually a result of the ingenious powers which God the Creator has given to human beings.
When we look at the capabilities (which, to be sure, need to be harnessed and used with a great deal of discretion), instead of positing sterility and coldness, perhaps the first thing we should be doing is standing in awe of God, that we should be created with such gifts that we in turn could make something such as this.
So yes, while the advent of artificial intelligence does give me a pause in a great many respects—virtually every major technological advance has always carried grave dangers as well as unprecedented positive contributions—it also strikes me with awe and wonder.
Not because I think of the technology as a person, but because I recognize that it is indeed persons behind it, and we are, after all, fearfully and wonderfully made.
YOUR SHOES
As part of a vision of both preserving the best and also (possibly) of seeing singers cover some of them, I have been working on getting a bunch of my songs into usable audio. (Hopefully, roughly 100 or so once I'm done. That's out of likely well over 1000, but I'm trying to stick with the best material.)
I've discovered that there are a small handful of songs missing from my files. (I wrote the vast majority long before I had a computer; they largely floated around in ringbinders, and sometimes ended up loose.) Theoretically, that shouldn't be a problem—if I wrote them, I should remember them, right? Trouble is, if you wrote 80–100 songs a year for several years, and were never really a performing artist, and this is now several decades later … yeah, stuff gets forgotten.
In this case, I specifically remember three songs that are missing from my files. (Doubtless, there are more, but if I can't even remember they even exist, they're likely not all that good.)
Thankfully, the missing songs are sufficiently in my memory that I can recall the melodies, as well as at least a verse and the chorus from each. If I can't remember a missing verse of an unreleased song, I guess that's not such a big deal. I can write another one, right?
That's what I've done with this one. Originally written around 1986 (when I was 20) at the height of rich televangelists making a mockery of the gospel and taking advantage of believers with low levels of discernment. The second verse is new; I thought it would be apt to draw from Jesus' woes upon the Pharisees.
YOUR SHOES
[Verse 1]
I've studied your nice red shoes
They shine like your diamonds in the spotlight
Cost you a bundle or two
I'm sure you polish 'em every night
[Chorus]
But I'd hate to be in your shoes on judgment day
You make the best-dressed news but you don't make the grade
You set up an ambush, kill 'em with kindness
You're taking their souls
Not to mention bankrolls
But preacher I don't envy you
I'd hate to be in your shoes
[Verse 2]
How many widows devoured
As you make your prayers in your pretense
But there is coming an hour
You'll pay for these here current events [repeat chorus]
[Bridge]
You've stood with stars at their height
You've stood up for Christians' rights
Even stood when the IRS turned on the lights
Yeah, your bright red shoes they've seen all the sights
[repeat chorus]
I'd hate to be in your shoes
I'd hate to be in your shoes
I suppose it's not too surprising, but after writing a new second verse for Your Shoes, I have now remembered the original:
You've stood on bright marble floors
You've stood to the cheers via satellite
You've stood on the funds of poor
But how you gonna stand on judgment night?
I think my new one worked well, and I like the biblical allusions, but the original does fit more organically with the feel of the song, so glad to have it back.
So far, of the songs I've lost, this is the first one I've managed to recover the entirety strictly from memory. Hopefully that will happen with the other two, as well....
Tim Gallant retweeted
“I don’t ever believe exclusion is the answer, I just don’t.”
Cool. So does she think Olympians shouldn't be excluded from Paralympics? 18 year olds shouldn't be excluded from 12u? Heavyweights shouldn't be excluded from featherweights?
Categories exist solely to exclude.
Tim Gallant retweeted
Eat a mouthful of grass and you get nothing. It goes in green and comes out green.
Eat straw and you get nothing. Your gut cannot touch cellulose.
Eat acorns and you get tannins, and a very bad afternoon.
Eat bracken and you get a carcinogen.
Eat nettles, thistles, brambles, rushes and moorland heather and you get a mouth full of blood and no calories.
Eat the beet pulp, the oat husks and the spent brewer's grain and you get the waste the factory couldn't sell.
Now feed the lot of it to a cow.
She turns every one of them into steak, butter, cream, milk and a hide, on land that will never grow a vegetable, using four stomachs and a fermentation vat you do not have.
The grass she eats grew on rain and sunlight, for free, on a hillside nobody can plough.
She is the only creature on earth that can take a field of inedible fibre and hand you back the most nutrient-dense food there is.
The cow is not competing with you for food. She eats the ninety percent you cannot.
Best plant-based diet ever invented. It just has a cow in the middle doing the hard part.









