James Kessler

All ministry— And all the true accounting of it— is local. Pastors: Trust in the one true ledger, put your head down, and go to work. “You have kept count of my tossings, Put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?” -Ps.56

@spongebobfan360 Grok is only available to premium accounts

wow.... is this real??

"...collapses when there is no one left who seems to need what he can offer. What makes this stage of life particularly lethal is that these protective structures hold just long enough to become the only thing he is, and then give way..." (4/4)

I thought this, in particular was a haunting summation that has made me think more deeply about how I preach to, and advocate for, men in my church: "By midlife the available strategies are failing at once... (1/x)

A very important piece of scholarship by @drantbradley. Check out his sub which is worth every penny: anthonybbradley.substack.com/p/the-quiet-cr…

"becoming the man who never needs anything from anyone, decays into an isolation so complete he can no longer tell the difference between solitude and disappearance. The path of earning his keep through service and provision, of moving toward people by being useful to them (3/x)

"The path of mastery, of beating the world into a shape that reflects back the self he meant to become, collides with a world that has stopped cooperating. Bodies age. Industries die. Marriages end. The path of grinding self-sufficiency,.. (2/x)

@lukestamps It is, after all, Ehrman season.

Just finished Douthat's Ehrman interview. I might write up something on it, but for starters here's my general take. -Philosophically, it was warmed over Humeanism without a hint of doubt about the underlying epistemology. Historians are just clear-eyed observers of probability.

Friends- This is a tough note to write, but since a bunch of you have started to suspect something, I’ll cut to the chase: Last week I was diagnosed with metastasized, stage-four pancreatic cancer, and am gonna die. Advanced pancreatic is nasty stuff; it’s a death sentence. But I already had a death sentence before last week too — we all do. I’m blessed with amazing siblings and half-a-dozen buddies that are genuinely brothers. As one of them put it, “Sure, you’re on the clock, but we’re all on the clock.” Death is a wicked thief, and the bastard pursues us all. Still, I’ve got less time than I’d prefer. This is hard for someone wired to work and build, but harder still as a husband and a dad. I can’t begin to describe how great my people are. During the past year, as we’d temporarily stepped back from public life and built new family rhythms, Melissa and I have grown even closer — and that on top of three decades of the best friend a man could ever have. Seven months ago, Corrie was commissioned into the Air Force and she’s off at instrument and multi-engine rounds of flight school. Last week, Alex kicked butt graduating from college a semester early even while teaching gen chem, organic, and physics (she’s a freak). This summer, 14-year-old Breck started learning to drive. (Okay, we’ve been driving off-book for six years — but now we’ve got paper to make it street-legal.) I couldn’t be more grateful to constantly get to bear-hug this motley crew of sinners and saints. There’s not a good time to tell your peeps you’re now marching to the beat of a faster drummer — but the season of advent isn’t the worst. As a Christian, the weeks running up to Christmas are a time to orient our hearts toward the hope of what’s to come. Not an abstract hope in fanciful human goodness; not hope in vague hallmark-sappy spirituality; not a bootstrapped hope in our own strength (what foolishness is the evaporating-muscle I once prided myself in). Nope — often we lazily say “hope” when what we mean is “optimism.” To be clear, optimism is great, and it’s absolutely necessary, but it’s insufficient. It’s not the kinda thing that holds up when you tell your daughters you’re not going to walk them down the aisle. Nor telling your mom and pops they’re gonna bury their son. A well-lived life demands more reality — stiffer stuff. That’s why, during advent, even while still walking in darkness, we shout our hope — often properly with a gravelly voice soldiering through tears. Such is the calling of the pilgrim. Those who know ourselves to need a Physician should dang well look forward to enduring beauty and eventual fulfillment. That is, we hope in a real Deliverer — a rescuing God, born at a real time, in a real place. But the eternal city — with foundations and without cancer — is not yet. Remembering Isaiah’s prophecies of what’s to come doesn’t dull the pain of current sufferings. But it does put it in eternity’s perspective: “When we've been there 10,000 years…We've no less days to sing God's praise.” I’ll have more to say. I’m not going down without a fight. One sub-part of God’s grace is found in the jawdropping advances science has made the past few years in immunotherapy and more. Death and dying aren’t the same — the process of dying is still something to be lived. We’re zealously embracing a lot of gallows humor in our house, and I’ve pledged to do my part to run through the irreverent tape. But for now, as our family faces the reality of treatments, but more importantly as we celebrate Christmas, we wish you peace: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned….For to us a son is given” (Isaiah 9). With great gratitude, and with gravelly-but-hopeful voices, Ben — and the Sasses

Leadership principle from the world of sailing: to go anywhere worthwhile you’ll spend a lot of time leaning out of the boat.

TK’s critics accuse him of being a culturalist, but he’s most known for teaching the Gospel. Meanwhile his critics style themselves to be more biblical, but are most known for their takes on culture.

With few exceptions: It doesn't get easier. You won't have more time. Things won't slow down. This isn't just a season. Either you take joy where you are, or you won't.

More than ever. Thankful to the Lord for the gift of Tim Keller.

Quickly, while people are still wondering: you WANT to be left behind. In nearly every Biblical instance of people being "taken away" or "swept away" it is the wicked that are taken. We aren't meant to leave the earth, but to steward and redeem it.

This is great to hear. We can put so much faith in social factors and trend lines and forget that the Spirit moves where he will.

@PavlovicNBCS Yaz has been my daughter’s favorite player out here on the east coast. So glad to watch him, and hear my daughter rumble down the stairs when I told her he’s at bat. She wears #5 on the field and I couldn’t be prouder. Thanks Yaz. Best to you in the next thing. #sfgiants

Mike Yastrzemski’s goodbye message on Instagram:

@zugzwanged My favorite Tuesday 6.15am meeting.

Don't? More seriously, imagine if, instead of using AI to help write their sermons, pastors were to make a practice of gathering some mature and scholarly members of their congregations every week to discuss the passage they were going to preach upon that Sunday.

Don’t

@Satyaki_R @JordanHedberg @pronouncedsimon @golchha_J Which said, I am not obliged to express views on everything, nor is anyone - not least because life is better for not having endless arguments with total strangers on social media about topics in I have no particular expertise. On which note, I shall now return to my book…

Very online people: this isn’t healthy. Read— web.stanford.edu/~gentzkow/rese…

Birthday resolutions have been captured by the leaders and theologians of antiquity. You can read them lots of places. Inspiring! They’re all fine but I have this for year forty-seven: I will enter year 48, Lord-willing, having stopped making noise every time I rise or sit.