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Published during: February 2012

The Book of the Dun Cow

Good and evil, long at war; the feeble things of this world chosen to confound the great and the foolish to confound the wise; God in his heaven and the great enemy coming against his creatures; the horrid lure of sin and the beautiful agony of faithfulness; the sorrow of loneliness and the sweet ache of love; the agonizing distance of God in trouble and his provision of bewildering aid – these all writ large in the lives of simple animals. This is The Book of the Dun Cow. Read on, intrepid explorer →

The gospel carries its own offense; it is already a fragrance of death to those who are perishing (2 Cor. 2:15), no need to add our own three acres of onions to it.

—Scott Oliphint, “Fast and Furious Fulmination,” reformation21 blog

The shape of a full-throated laugh

A couple weeks ago, Dan Darling posted an interview with Matthew Lee Anderson. (You should read the whole thing; it’s worth your time.) One of his points particularly caught my attention:

I think when the default mode of cultural engagement is that our parents were wrong and we’re out to fix it, we risk inoculating ourselves against any form of self-criticism. Myopia breeds only more myopia: if we don’t have the vision to see both the good and the bad of what we’ve inherited, we’ll never learn to truly see both the good and the bad of what we’re contributing. Chesterton once wrote something to the effect that love is blind–it’s bound, and because it’s bound, it sees more clearly than anything else. I think the same sort of thing is true of our cultural engagement: if we recognize the ways in which our lives our bound up in our parents, for both good and ill, we’ll see ourselves and the world more clearly and act more effectively in it.

Matt’s comment here is on point for at least three reasons, each of which bears elaboration. Read on, intrepid explorer →