For those interested in the care of souls within the context of the church, it is difficult, if not impossible to overestimate the importance of this book by David Powlison. The Biblical Counseling Movement (BCM) has garnered much attention in Reformed and Presbyterian circles and beyond. Its supporters have been many but so has its critics.  Jay Adams, the father of BCM has been, as Powlison puts it, both “canonized and demonized” (pg. 229). In this book he hopes to subvert both versions of Adams. Two things in particular stand out as commending this book to pastors and counselors.

First, it is evident that the book is well-researched. Powlison’s knowledge of BCM and its history shines. Working almost exclusively from primary sources, Powlison provides us with a detailed picture of BCM. From Adams’ encounter with O. H. Mowrer, a secular psychologist who inspired his anti-psychiatry sentiments, to the intramural debates within BCM, Powlison shows his mastery of the material.

Of particular interest is Powlison’s contention that BCM must be understood as a conflict over professional jurisdiction. Because secular psychology had so dominated the evangelical counseling landscape, Adams was determined to retake such ground and restore it to its rightful owners: the pastors of Christ’s church. Adams claimed that psychotherapeutic professionals were “a false pastorate, interlopers on tasks that properly belonged to pastors” (p. xvii). Understanding this helps the reader make sense of the belligerency displayed by Adams toward psychiatry, psychology, and even evangelical psychotherapy.  Such belligerency would prove to be both the greatest strength and the greatest weakness of the movement, leading to rapid success early on and then to decline in the 1980s with fractures evident within the movement itself.

The reader will also find in this well-researched book a thorough analysis of Adam’s intellectual system, his interactions (or lack thereof) with evangelical psychotherapists, and the counter-attacks launched by the evangelical psychotherapy community. All of these elements provide the reader with a robust and fulsome understanding of many of the nuances of BCM.  They also serve to correct some of the caricatures of Adams and the movement.

Second, not only is the book well-researched it is well-written.  Powlison’s style is clear and methodical.  But it is more than that.  He draws the reader into the drama of the movement. By consistently quoting from some of the edgiest portions of Adams, Powlison impresses upon the reader the magnitude of Adam’s task and the radical changes he was pressing for in the church.

The book ends with events occurring in the middle of the 1990’s, and with Powlison confessing that more of the story needs to unfold before he can write about it. He leaves the reader wanting to know what comes next in this unfolding drama much like the end of a movie leaves one eagerly awaiting the sequel. This task is not easily accomplished in a book palpably historical in nature, yet Powlison accomplishes it masterfully. Both critics and cohorts of BCM will find this book edifying, enlightening, and engaging and should make it a part of their library.

“Every time we read a book or watch a movie, we enter into an imaginative expression of the artists’s worldview” (pg. 8).  This is the wake-up call that Nancy Pearcey issues in her newest book.  In Saving Leonardo she walks the reader through the various “isms” of the modern age (i.e. relativism, scientific determinism, new age spiritualism etc.), showing the devastating impact they have had on the minds and morals of people today.  The following observations (coupled with some minor critiques) hope to serve as a commendation of the book.

First, Saving Leonard is detailed in its analysis of the secular worldviews that impact Christian’s today.  Not only does Pearcey identify these worldviews, but also gives the reader insight into their “family tree.”  Beginning with the Greeks, the reader is treated to an insightful analysis of how various worldviews are related to one another, either as competing worldviews or developments of earlier worldviews.  One frustration with the book here needs to be registered, but it is not with the content.  Saving Leonardo has no subject index.  With all the “isms” being addressed, sometimes in complex relationship with one another, a subject index is desperately needed.  Unless one is using an e-reader, like a Kindle, they will have to page through the book to find what they are looking for.  This can be frustrating.

Second, Saving Leonardo is devastating in its critique of secular worldviews.  Pearcey exposes the self-defeating nature of secular worldviews and shows how they are dehumanizing because they absolutize (and therefore idolize) one aspect of God’s creation.  Christianity, she then affirms, is the worldview that accounts for the truths that secular worldviews cannot.  Christianity, Pearcy argues is rational and it, among all the worldviews is a life-valuing system.  Her answer to the dehumanizing nature of secular worldviews is to re-moralize culture with artists, musicians and authors who can “create humane and healthy alternatives that speak deeply to the human condition.”  She then goes on to use the language of “redeeming” the culture, which, unfortunately, puts many ill at ease and even uncertain as to exactly what she means.  Perhaps a second edition of this book could flesh such language out so as to clear up any confusion that this sort of terminology creates.  With this said, Pearcey does an admirable job of exposing the folly of unbelieving worldviews and pointing her readers to the Christian faith as providing a rational answer to the ultimate questions with which so many struggle.

Finally, Saving Leonardo is delightful in its layout.  Because secular worldviews sprout legs and walk into art studios, science books, works of literature, and movie theaters, Pearcey provides her readers with over  one hundred images which illustrate how these worldviews find their way into these fields of study.

If you are interested in a penetrating analysis of the folly of secular worldviews and the danger they present, pick up Saving Leonardo.  You won’t be disappointed.

Anthony Selvaggio has provided the church with a very practical primer on the book of James.  Though there is no preface or introduction to confirm this, the book seems to be a collection of sermons or Bible studies adapted for publication.  As such it posesses three important qualities that will be beneficial to pastors and laypersons alike.

First, the book is redemptive in its focus.  A perpetual temptation while studying James is to lose the redemptive focus of the book, reducing it to a collection of moral imperatives.  Selvaggio carefully avoids such an error.  He points out in chapter two, “James’ purpose is to encourage those who have accepted the theology of Christ to adopt in practice” (pg. 22).  Furthermore, Selvaggio argues that James in uniquely Christ-centered 1.) by speaking in the voice of wisdom, wisdom which only Jesus can grant; 2.) by means of the eschatological emphasis of the epistle, calling believers to appropriate into the present age the realities of Christ’s second coming and; 3.) through echos of Christ’s voice, which are found throughout the book (pgs. 23-25).  Selvaggio carefully weaves all of these aspects of Christ’s person and work into his book, bringing the reader back to their standing before God in Christ.

Second, the book is reasoned in its exegesis.  Selvaggio’s conviction that the text of the Scriptures be careful followed is evident throughout the book.  Each chapter lucidly opens up a portion of James providing the reader with a theme and then subsections which expand on that theme.  Chapter three, for example is entitled “The reasons for our trials” and includes the following subsections: “to test our faith, to cultivate perseverance in us, to bring us to perfection.”  This sort of exposition of the epistle, which is found throughout the book, allows the reader to easily follow James’ logic, giving him exegetical pegs on which to hang his study of a particular passage.  Furthermore, the divisions can be helpful in providing pastor’s with ideas for homiletical outlines during their sermon preparation.

Third, the book is relevant in its exhortations.  This is highlighted, of course, by the very title of the book, The 24/7 Christian, but is also bourn out in pages of the book. One of the challenges with any book of the Bible is not just the “what?” of a passage, but the “so what?” of a passage.  Selvaggio pastorally and pointedly drives home to the reader the applicatory nature of the issues James addresses, such as greed, pride, gossip, prayer, trials and faithfulness.

With this said, the reviewer has one quibble with the book.  This quibble involves not what Selvaggio says, but what he fails to say.  In his exposition of James 5:13-18, Selvaggio is conspicuously silent on the exegetical and pastoral issue of whether anointing the sick with oil should be continued in the church today.  Both pastor and layperson will face this question when studying James, and therefore, it is one that should be addressed in any study of James.

Picking out what is best about Carl Trueman’s Minority Report is like taking my four boys to Toy R Us and directing them to pick out just one toy.  It is a pleasantly frustrating task, which often results in leaving the store with multiple acquisitions for each child.  So must be the case with Trueman’s companion volume to his earlier book The Wages of Spin.

Trueman’s purpose in writing this book is to first and foremost “make people sit up and think” (pg. 7).  Second to this is his desire to show that the historic beliefs of the Christian faith do not need to be, “stuffy, pompous, out-of-date, or allied to an unattractive, and cadaverous piety” (pg. 7).  With a magnificently witty and insightful style, Trueman fulfills both these purposes.

Without getting into the details of each piece of writing, which would be impossible, it is probably most helpful to enumerate why every Christian who is serious about their faith should get their hands on this book.

First, this book is thoroughly intellectual.  By this I don’t mean inaccessible.  Rather, Trueman displays an ability to adeptly interact with those in academia, while keeping his writings accessible to a larger audience.  This ability is displayed particularly in the first part of the book, which entails four longer pieces ranging from his inaugural address as Professor of Historical Theology and Church History at Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia to his critical review of Mark Noll’s book Is the Reformation Over? In each of these pieces Trueman displays a command of the subject matter, while maintaining a style of writing that is gracious and engaging.

Second, this book is insightful.  Rather than simply showing us that he knows history, Trueman shows that he has engaged history.  This comes to the fore in his essay entitled, “The Banality of Evil:  From Eichman to the iPod Generation.”  Here Trueman gives us insight in to the figure of Adolph Eichman, one of the most infamous men responsible for the extermination of millions of Jews.  Trueman, playing off the work of Hannah Arendt, points out that Eichman was not some evil genius.  Rather, he was a rather ordinary man who had learned to distance himself from the evil in which he was involved to such an extent, that evil became banal.  In other words, sinfulness of Eichman’s sin was hidden amidst a pile of clichés of language, politics, and bureaucracy.  Trueman then brilliantly points out that such trends which make evil ordinary are at work today in the iPod generation.  What are those trends?  Grab a copy of Minority Report and find out for yourself.

Third, and finally, this book is in touch.  This comes out magnificently in Part II of the book in which Trueman takes on contemporary issues such as the postmodern evangelical movement, Roman Catholicism, American Idol, gay marriage and a culture obsessed with youthfulness.

Whether you are a pastor or congregant, include Minority Report in your next book order.  You will be deeply instructed and appropriately entertained.

-Danny Patterson

We live in a fear-driven culture.  From analysts announcing the economic doom of our country to movies depicting a long and horrific death at the hands of a merciless madman, we are fed a constant diet of worst-case scenarios of apocalyptic proportions.  Combine this with the fear that naturally resides in our hearts and we begin to realize that, even as Christians, to live is to fear.

It is in this cultural and spiritual context that Dr. Edward Welch provides us with a book that surgically exposes what lies beneath our fear and anxiety and then points us to the One who promises peace and rest.

Running Scared is, most broadly, divided into two sections.  The first section looks at our fears and worries, “with an unaided eye” (pg. 13).  In typical fashion Welch masterfully describes both what fear looks like and what fear feels like.  Fear is described as the “background noise of everyday life” (pg. 21).  Worriers are insightfully described as those who are immune to reason; live in the future; see that future in minute, gory detail; but are ultimately false prophets (pgs. 50-51).

In this section Welch also touches briefly on the possibility that such anxiety points to a genetic cause.  Rather than dismissing such a possibility, Welch encourages his readers to dig deeper.  He says, “But whether there is a genetic contribution or not, don’t let the first hint of a genetic link abort all other promising leads.  Don’t let the rationale, ‘Mom worried a lot,’ be the end of your examination of worry.  When you listen to worry and witness its stubborn grasp, you find something that is most assuredly you.  You have your reasons for worrying.  You have purposes in your anxieties” (emphasis his, pg. 53).  This is where Welch and much of the literature from the Christian Counseling and Education Foundation shines.  Many battles have been fought in Christian counseling circles over the issue of psychotropic medication (medication used for a variety of psychological problems).  Rather than entangling themselves in this battle, however, CCEF literature pastorally calls its readers, regardless of what side of the fence on which they find themselves, to deep self-examination.  This is wise not only because of its respect for what seems to be an area of Christian liberty, but also because self-examination is part and parcel of the Christian life.

The second section “adds the glasses of Scripture to the study of fear and anxiety,” because, “without them we might have insights but no firm answers” (pg. 57).  The first three chapters of this section review those things which are most foundational to address fear and anxiety. To accomplish this Welch employs what he calls “the manna principle” in which he examines God’s provision of manna for the Israelites.  Because this principle is employed as a foundational element throughout the book a word of explanation is in order.

The manna story of Exodus, Welch contends, is the story for all worriers.  In it we catch a glimpse of God’s perfect provision for us in our wilderness of worry.  When things seem abysmal at any given moment, God is not distant or silent.  Things are not always as they seem.  Instead, at such a time is when God is especially close, teaching his people to call out to him and trust him n the midst of their fear.  Key to the manna story is that God is not only the One who hears, delivers and draws near, but he is also the one who tests.  God tests us not in order to bring us down, but graciously to expose our mixed allegiances so that we might turn back to God and receive his grace.  Welch confidently asserts, “God is not playing mind games with us; he is forging a relationship” (pg. 75).  The next thirteen chapters deal with fear as it relates to 1.) money and possessions; 2.) people and their judgments; and 3.) death, pain, and punishment.  In all of these topics, the “manna principle” is the backdrop, setting before the reader the God who provides for his people.  Welch then spends the remaining nine chapters pressing home the peace that God brings and how that peace is appropriated.

Having given a brief outline of the book, several observations will serve to highlight why this book will prove valuable to pastors and layman alike.

First, the book is realistic.  Many readers are familiar with the Mad TV skit featuring Bob Newhart in which a woman enters the counselor’s office filled with fear and anxiety.  The counselor confidently tells his client that she will not need more than five minutes of therapy and it will cost her no more than five dollars.  Pleasantly surprised, the woman begins to tell of her fears and worries.  After she is done, the counselor informs her that he has two words for her that will clear up all her problems.  As she readies herself for these profound words the counselor blurts out, somewhat impatiently, “STOP IT!”  Shocked, the woman asks, “excuse me?”  Again, the counselor replies, “STOP IT!”  The rest of the skit continues this back and forth, highlighting the counselor’s noticeably unrealistic expectation that this woman will simply stop worrying.

Though certainly a caricature, the skit exposes what is the tendency of a large sector of pastors and counselors in the church today.  Fear and worry are expressed, the demands of God’s word to stop worrying are pressed upon the person, and the counselee is expected to simply stop it.  The problem with this approach is that it is unrealistic.  Fear runs deep in us all and the mission of mortification is a life-long battle.  Welch seems to understand this as he provides, at the end of each chapter, a “personal response” section in which he reveals his own responses to fear and the promises of God’s Word.  Though the goal is to stop worrying, Welch maintains that the road there is long and difficult.  It is by no means automatic.  For example, in response to the story of Abraham’s faith that God could raise Isaac from the dead in Hebrews 11:10, Welch’s says, “These words sound good—a son resurrected, a much better home—and they were more than enough for Abraham.  But they might not seem like enough for you.  They may fall short of comfort, at least for now” (pg. 89).  Welch’s answer, of course, is not simply to give up, but rather to focus on how God has already delivered us in numerous ways.  In his “personal response” section he states, “The God of suspense is delivering left and right…But these after the fact deliverances?  What if you actually went through your worst nightmare—sexual violation, death of a loved one, divorce?  What then?  Where was the deliverance?  What difference does the after-the-fact deliverance make then?  It means there will be lots of sorrow as we walk through life, but we aspire to know sorrow that is mingled with hope.  For subjects of King Jesus death and tragedy are never the last word.  The goodness of our God is certain.  He has given up his very Son for our redemption.  There is no reason to doubt him” (pg. 92).

The realism of the book is further highlighted as Welch tackles the issues of money, pain and death.  Unlike many of the health and wealth preachers of today who promise what they can never deliver, Welch reminds us that we live in a fallen world.  Though he maintains that God gives us grace for today, and will grant us grace in the future, “God does not promise grace that removes hardships” (pg. 142).  In fact, those who are in the kingdom of Christ will be familiar with hardships.  We will not escape the difficulties of this life.  However, we can be assured that if we are called to a death that is terrible, or suffering that seems unbearable God will grant us grace when that time comes.  “It is enough to know,” Welch declares, “that I will receive grace.  I will know the presence of the Spirit and I will die, or be rescued, in a way that pleases the Lord.”  Again, this approach is a far cry from the hedonistic philosophy of so many preachers today.  Welch is to be commended for steering clear of this theology of false promises and self-serving interests.

These examples briefly highlight the pastor’s heart which lies beneath just about everything Welch has put into print, namely, the realism that is to mark those who struggle with debilitating fear as well as those who counsel them.

Second, the book is revealing.  When the person in the pew is struck with fear it is counterintuitive to slow down and listen, “but”, Welch contends, “fear is speaking and we should listen” (pg. 37).  Not only is this approach to fear counterintuitive to the person in the pew, but often to pastors and counselors.  Listening to fear is often equated with indulging in fear.  However, Welch says that we should listen to what fear is telling us because fear and worry reveal us.  They reveal the things that we love and value.  Though there are times when fear says that something is just plain dangerous and we should be afraid, Welch says, “my goal in listening to my fears is to learn how to decipher what else they are saying.  When I pause and listen, I might find that fear says a lot and speaks clearly.  What is says can provide me with immensely helpful direction” (pg. 47).

Again, Welch’s insight here is immensely helpful to pastors and parishioners alike.  Our natural tendency is to ignore fear because 1.) fear is simply no fun and 2.) our fears are often the result of a lack of trust in the Lord and thinking about them can seem like wallowing in them.  Yet slowing down and listening to what fear tells us reveals our allegiances.  Fear and worry are not mere emotions, then; they are expressions of what we hold dear.  If we are constantly worried about money and possessions this reveals a heart that is storing up treasures on earth where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal.

Furthermore, Welch contends, another way to reveal our allegiances is to follow our fear back to what others think about us.  Because fear often deceives us into thinking we need something that actually we only want, our perceived need of people’s approval controls us.  Though there is nothing wrong with wanting to be loved, when we want these things too much, we want them for our own glory rather than God’s (pg. 178).  Welch’s simple, yet profound answer to our fear of another’s judgments is that the Lord calls us to love others more than we need them (pgs. 181-190).

Again, Welch’s insight here is keen.  Contrary to the psychological gurus of our day who tell us to avoid difficult people and love ourselves more, Welch calls us to be outwardly focused, rebalancing the scales of love so that when others reject us, such rejection doesn’t control us.  This rebalancing of love has a further benefit for evangelism.  When it comes to speaking to others about the gospel of Jesus Christ, if my first concern is loving them rather than being liked by them, such love will outweigh my self-serving desire to be liked.

Thirdly and finally, the book is redemptive.  In saying that Running Scared is a redemptive book, we mean that Welch is constant in reminding the reader that the antidote to fear and anxiety is the person and work of Jesus Christ.  This is seen no more clearly than in the section entitled, “God Speaks on Death, Pain, and Punishment.”  For many Christians it is not death or dying that scares them as much as what comes after death.  Fear of eternal condemnation haunts a large portion of the Christian church.  Much of this fear comes from a lack of faithful, Christ-centered preaching.  However, much of the fear comes from our own hearts, which tend to focus more on the Christian than on the Christ.  This is what Welch refers to as “the scrupulous conscience” (pg. 219).  Though those with seared consciences rarely think about eternal matters and final judgment, those with scrupulous consciences always do.  Their mind dances with scenarios in the great courtroom before the judgment seat of Christ.  However, Welch contends that at this point, the scrupulous conscience finds itself not in the real courtroom, but in the Devil’s counterfeit courtroom.  In the real courtroom we know that our deeds are not enough; we know that our hope is in Christ alone for deliverance; we know that when we are convicted of sins we are pointed past our sins and on to Christ.  The last word in the real courtroom is always hope.  However, in the false courtroom, the attention is all on our sins; we stand and fall on our own behavior; we are alone without an advocate; and questions are raised about the extent of God’s forgiveness (pg. 221).

It is at this point, Welch contends, that we must cry out, “Christ alone, Christ alone…When you are feeling weak, ask for the Spirit to teach you more about how righteousness is not inherent in you but has been given to you by the righteous acts of Jesus (Rom. 5:15-21).”  Still, he says, a scrupulous conscience will always question whether it has enough faith.  “Faith”, he responds, “says, I need Jesus.  It is not a work, it is an act of desperation, and you are certainly familiar with that” (pg. 221).  As if this is not enough, Welch continues, the scrupulous conscience is called to rest in the judgments made by its pastors and elders who have judged our faith to be credible and have been given the keys to the kingdom of heaven.

This redemptive aspect of pastoral counseling has been neglected for far too long in Presbyterian and Reformed circles.  Much of Christian counseling in the past three decades has focused on correcting sinful behavior at the expense of calling counselees to rest in the finished work of Jesus Christ.  Such Christian behaviorism has done more to foster fear than to fight it.  What fearful Christians need is for their pastors and counselors to drive home the wonderful and precious promises of God that are made to them in the Lord Jesus Christ, calling them to faithfulness in light of that foundational truth.  Again, Welch accomplishes this in his last set of chapters under the title, “Peace Be With You.”  On the cover page of this section Welch pens these words: “If we still feel slow to really grasp what God says to fearful and anxious people, we can take heart.  As he has already shown us in the Sermon on the Mount, when he exhorted us not to worry, God is patient and willing to walk slowly with us, all the while speaking even more persuasive words to our fearful hearts” (pg.  245).  Our God is longsuffering with fearful sinners like us.  Therefore, those who are called to minister in Christ’s name to those filled with fear and anxiety must exhibit much compassion and longsuffering.

With these things said, there is just one thing with which to quibble.   Conspicuously absent is any emphasis on the public use of the means of grace (the Word, sacraments, and prayer).  We live in a day and age in which the proclamation of God’s Word in the context of public worship on the Lord’s Day is held in low esteem.  The Larger Catechism,  however, reminds us that, “the Spirit of God maketh the reading, but especially the preaching of the Word, an effectual means of enlightening, convincing, humbling sinners; driving them out of themselves, and drawing them unto Christ; of conforming them to his image, and subduing them to his will; of building them up in grace, and establishing their hearts in holiness and comfort through faith unto salvation” (emphasis mine, Q&A 155).

Furthermore, in the Confession’s chapter on the Lord’s Supper the divines state that the Lord’s Supper is, “to be observed in [Christ’s] church, unto the end of the world, for the perpetual remembrance of the sacrifice of himself in his death; the sealing all benefits thereof unto true believers, their spiritual nourishment and growth in him, their further engagement in and to all duties which they owe to him; and to be a bond and pledge of their communion with him, and with each other, as members of his mystical body” (emphasis mine, WCF XXIX.I).

The point in citing these references is to highlight that any mortification of fear and anxiety in the life of the believer must necessarily include a vigorous and ordinary use of the public means of grace.  If in the preaching of God’s Word He speaks, and by His Spirit acts upon the hearts of believers, convicting them of sin and encouraging them in the gospel promise; and if in the sacraments He preaches that gospel visibly to us, the antidote to fear does not include simply reading God’s Word and meditating on it.  It must include hearing God’s voice in preaching, and by faith knowing the love of God, which casts out fear, displayed in the sacraments.

There is little doubt that Dr. Welch would agree with the sentiments above, yet in a culture that is growing increasingly hostile to a high view of the Word and sacraments, this is exactly where we need to be the clearest.

Though the above criticism is substantial this reviewer hopes that it will not detract from the gap this book fills in the field of Christian counseling. The redemptive, revealing, and realistic nature of Running Scared demands that those who live in fear, as well as those who walk alongside of them in counseling, make this book part of their library.

-Danny Patterson

-Harry Reeder, From Embers to a Flame, pg. 77

The following was taken from the GCP website:

GCP’s Christ-centered, Show Me Jesus curriculum is doctrinally sound, spiritually nourishing, interactive and easy to use. The curriculum teaches the entire Bible . . . from Genesis to Revelation.

All age levels include colorful visuals and many other teaching aids to enable you to teach with confidence and effectiveness. Both teacher and student grow—not just in knowledge—but also in their readiness to live out their faith in God’s world.

To learn more about Great Commission Publications click here.

After opening exercises, we hold Sunday School for children of all ages using the “Show Me Jesus” curriculum from Great Commission Publications.  The adult class will begin a study on Old Testament books beginning in January.

PLEASE JOIN US!