Oliver was a friend, chaplain, professor, author, and loyal church reformer. This Gnesio-Lutheran giant will be missed.
We don’t need another brand. We need a people who remember who they are. And that’s us, Gen-X.

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What do imagination, Lego bricks, and Sub-Creation have to do with apologetics?
I will take a look at the locus classicus on the relationship between science and religion, Religion and Science: Historical and Contemporary Issues (1997) by Ian Barbour.
In the pageant of Easter Week, Maundy Thursday speaks about the last time Jesus ate with his Disciples and how He washed their feet in preparation for participating in the Passover meal (John 13).
A couple of weeks ago I ordered pizza for dinner. I didn’t pray, “Lord, give me pizza.” I called the store. The pizza did not drop down from heaven at my doorstep like manna from heaven.
For all our best efforts—political and evangelistic—our approach should always be through the Theology of the Cross. Our gardens are still bloody, but the blood of the Lamb who takes away the sins of the world will one day restore peace to our gardens.
What we confess concerning a corpse confesses much about how deep, or how shallow, is our understanding of the importance of the incarnation of Jesus, his death, and his (as well as our own) resurrection.
The concept of Theology as science is foreign to our ‘enlightened’ century where the subject has been removed to the Liberal Arts category.
In this particular church, all sins are forgiven, but some sins are more forgiven than others.
A clever skeptic named James Huber created a clever skit called “Kissing Hank’s Butt”. That’s the version he created for use in G-rated contexts. His main site uses more mature language. Many Christians will find it offensive.
Much like the 2014 Superbowl, the debate itself was lackluster and utterly predictable. However, one aspect of the debate struck me as worthy of commentary; the way Mr. Ham presented himself as a Christian intellectual.
Of all the words this woman ever spoke, these alone are chiseled forever into the stone of holy writ, and into the church’s memory. Mrs. Job becomes the patron saint of quick-tongued women.
I think the chief reason that a faction within me welcomes the disintegration of the American ethos is this: it makes me feel so much better about myself. The smut makes me quite smug.