Breakpoint

Happy Lent. That's an odd-sounding phrase. One of the chief purposes of Lent, after all, is to confront our mortality. For the last two years, our focus has been on avoiding our mortality, dodging death, and largely hedging life against our fears of death. In this cultural moment, confronting our mortality during Lent is incredibly important. As New Testament scholar Mary Healy said, "We instinctively resist and recoil from everything that reminds us of our mortality—pain, deprivation, weakness, criticism, failure. This paralyzing fear ... leads to various forms of escapism and addiction, induces us to grasp the false security nets proffered by Satan, and keeps us from pursuing the will of God with freedom, peace, and confidence." Whether or not you typically participate in traditional Lenten activities—like the marking of ashes, fasting, or giving up something—I hope you'll still use these 40 days to face and ponder your mortality, with an eye to Jesus' resurrection, and the resurrection that awaits all of us who belong to Him.

A central claim of the gay rights movement—a claim that won the movement acceptance with the majority of Americans—was that being gay is part of who a person is, and not a choice. "Born this way," declared the title of a popular song. Another song insisted, "I can't change even if I tried." This idea of immutable sexual identity was further extended to other orientations and self-expressions. So, trying to suppress or change orientation or even behavior was labeled "conversion therapy." And, now that sexual orientation is considered identity, anything labeled "conversion therapy" is increasingly being outlawed. Recently, A new law just passed in Canada bans conversion therapy and defines it as any "practice, treatment or service designed to change a person's sexual orientation" or "repress or reduce non-heterosexual attraction or sexual behavior." Completing this rapid worldview revolution, all kinds of identities, also based on desires and feelings, are being treated as if they are unchangeable. And, if a desire is unchangeable, the reasoning goes, a person has a right to act on it. This logic has been applied to most desires imaginable—until now. In January, USA Today ran an article by Alia Dastagir titled, "The Complicated Research Behind Pedophilia." The article summarizes a growing consensus among psychologists that pedophiles, too, are "born this way," and that attraction to children is unchangeable. Understandably, Dastagir doesn't call pedophilia a sexual orientation, but rather, "attraction." Still, it isn't hard to imagine a slippery slope here. Slippery slopes are considered logical fallacies because they don't have to happen. However, it isn't hard to see how often they do happen. If our society maintains the logic that desires determine identity and therefore justify behaviors, then more deviant behaviors will eventually become acceptable. Dastagir argues that even if pedophilia is an unchangeable attraction caused by genetic or environmental factors, pedophiles can and must "control [their] impulses." The experts she quotes agree that people who are sexually attracted to kids have a choice whether to "act on the urge to abuse." One psychologist and author even said that acting on pedophilia is the same as the choice to act on any other "inappropriate sexual thought." As she puts it: "Pedophiles may not have control over the fact that they are attracted to kids, but they are responsible for whether they do or don't act on it." That psychologist continues: "Offending is devastating. It damages the lives of victims…You can learn to control yourself. You have the capacity to do better." The language sounds an awful lot like the kind that's been labeled "conversion therapy," or as the Canadian law puts it, an attempt to "repress or reduce a non-heterosexual attraction or sexual behavior." Don't misunderstand me: Pedophilia and homosexuality are not the same. As much as we critique consent as the only moral stand our culture will take, it applies here. A minor isn't developed enough to give consent. I'm only pointing out that the logic could be argued the same in both cases. It should also be noted that, at the same time pedophilia is being reconsidered an orientation, minors have been given control of their sexual identities. If they can determine their sexual identification at younger and younger ages, how long will we prevent them from determining their sexual activities? Even so, the fact that social scientists and the press can avoid the logical conclusion of "born this way" for this instance shows how flawed that logic always was. Desires don't determine behavior or identity. They never did because, as human beings, we are moral agents responsible for controlling our appetites. This slope is just really, really slippery. I'm grateful that there are still those in our culture willing to distinguish between desires and behavior, in at least one case. We should press them on why this is a unique case because if the sexual revolution doesn't stop here, the consequences are quite simply unthinkable.

It's one of Russian painter Nikolai Yaroshenko's most iconic works. Out of the window of a prison car, a small child feeds a group of pigeons. We're not told who the child, his mother, or their fellow captives are. Yaroshenko's title is our only clue: Life Is Everywhere. As the world watches the situation unfold in Ukraine, we are forced to deal with the world's fundamental brokenness and the stark reality of human evil. But at the same time, there's something even more pervasive than evil and death: life. Today, even in Ukraine, there will be babies born, marriages officiated, and neighbors gathering to pray. On a deeper level, redeemed life is everywhere. Jesus came that we may "have life and have it abundantly." That life is not about material wealth. Neither is it about simply waiting for heaven. It's a renewed commitment to the values of God's Kingdom, right now. That can be simple as feeding pigeons or giving a cup of cold water to those in need. The joy Christians take in life points to our ultimate hope: a hope that can't be shaken.

If there's a term our culture has little appreciation for, it's "limitations." But that's exactly what makes Kelly Kapic's newest book You're Only Human worth reading. Intentionally or implicitly these days, people are told to ignore their physical, interpersonal, and spiritual limits. Even in Christian circles, it's common to constantly feel exhausted or guilty, as if we haven't done enough for God and His Kingdom. Dr. Kelly Kapic, a professor of theology at Covenant College, provides a compelling counter-thesis: "Many of us fail to understand that our limitations are a gift from God, and therefore good.This produces in us the burden of trying to be something we are not and cannot be." Human limitation is different from the idea of "sin" or even "fallenness." As a feature of time and space, "limitations" are nbuilt-in aspect of God's design. We need things like food and rest. We were not created to do everything by ourselves, even something as simple as finding our own individual identities. Ultimately, we are dependent, and our dependency is meant to draw us closer to the God who created us. Recently, Dr. Kapic joinedmy colleague Kasey Leander for a special episode ofon the BreakPoint podcast,. Their conversation is an especially relevant counter to dangerous assumptions that are shaping our world. One of these assumptions has to do with physicality. Seized by what some have called a "gnostic impulse," much of modern life downplays physical limitations. Digital technology tells us we don't need to "go" anywhere to "be" with people. We sexualize everything, and in the process destroy the possibility of normal, everyday physical touch. The most extreme example of this gnostic impulse is transgender ideology, which tells people they can only and finally feel fulfilled outside the physical reality of biology. In God's original design, the physical world was created "good." We flourish best, not when we "transcend" our God-given physical limitations, but when we live in accordance with them. This doesn't mean everything is perfect: Some of our limitations, of course, actually are caused by the fall. However, even in a world infected by evil, Christians have hope in a renewed, physical creation. If God loves our bodies, we should too. Kapic also highlights the idea of faithfulness in the Christian life. Too often, we're driven by a desire to do everything, ignoring our limited resources of time and energy. "It was Ben Franklin who said time is money," he tells us, "and as Christians we have baptized that." It makes me wonder what Jesus would make of modern busyness. The Son of God never shied away from challenges or difficulty … yet he spent an inordinate amount of time simply praying and resting. As the Agent of creation and the second Adam, Christ set the standard for a life well lived. A third takeaway from You're Only Human. has to do with the Church, the Bride of Christ: "God extends his love, provision, and values through the people who make up his church. His offer to be a refuge and strength frequently comes through his church. When he wants to bring a word of grace, a safe hug, a warm meal, it often comes through his church. Even when the church cannot do everything itself, it keeps seeking to promote the common good." The Christian walk demands community,and our collective limitations also point at something significant about our human limitations. Kapic continues: "The central mission of the church is to point people continually to the Messiah: he alone fully reveals the love of the Father and pours out his Spirit on us. The goal of all our good efforts is to draw people to the embrace of the triune God, not to serve as a replacement for him. All the gifts we exercise must ultimately point back to the true Giver." This is why Christians can read the news without losing hope. We cannot heal or restore our broken world, but Christ can and will. In that respect, our limitation isn't weakness. It makes us rely on the only true Source of strength.

Dr. Anthony Bradley of the King's College addresses the very important issue of how we are failing young men. The tyranny of low expectations, soft relationships, absent fathers… ours is a culture failing to transition boys to men. Dr. Bradley explains the current landscape and emboldens listeners to take action to love and support young men. This presentation is part of our Lighthouse Voices Series, done in partnership with Focus on the Family. Click here for more on the Lighthouse Voices Series>>

With the "Stop WOKE Act" and unfairly labeled "Don't Say Gay" bill, the Florida legislature is ordering state-run schools to adjust their curriculum, and respond to the will of parents. The U.S. Secretary of Education, in a strong response, threatened the state to follow federal interpretations of Title IX and civil rights laws or risk federal funding. It's not the first time the White House has used federal funds as leverage to get what it wants from Florida. The fundamental question here is whose job is it to educate? Increasingly, the state has not only claimed that task, it's also sought to actively keep parents out of it, especially when it comes to controversial social issues like race or sexuality. That state does have a place and purpose that was ordained by God. So does the church and so does the family. But the family isn't designed to be the church, the church isn't designed to be the state, and the state shouldn't be teaching its worldview to our kids.

Dive into the unsettling world of imprecatory psalms, where prayers for divine retribution clash with modern ideals of mercy. Discover how these ancient texts reflect deep anger and a longing for justice, especially amidst crises like the Russian invasion. The discussion tackles the uncomfortable reality of these harsh prayers and their place within the broader narrative of faith, forcing listeners to grapple with themes of vengeance versus forgiveness in the face of adversity.

John and Maria discuss the rise of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky. They ponder why the world seems to admire his leadership and what the significance is when the wider culture largely rejects many displays of masculinity. Then, Maria asks John to explain a recent commentary that highlights beauty in the face of the conflict in Ukraine. Sharing about the weight of redemption, John notes that redemption grounds many issues in the world and expounds on the Wilberforce Weekend theme "Life Redeemed." To close, John describes a recent commentary at BreakPoint on assisted reproduction. Maria shares some of the feedback often received on commentaries about this topic, identifying some challenges to questions for BreakPoint.

During World War II, Jewish teenager Fania Rosenfield lost nearly her entire family to the Nazis. She somehow managed to escape the slaughter happening in her town and find refuge for two years with a Ukrainian family before settling in Israel to begin a new life. Fania repeatedly told the story of the brave Ukrainian family who saved her to her children and grandchildren. And, a few weeks ago when the Russian invasion of Ukraine was imminent, Fania's granddaughter made a choice to reach out to the family who had saved her grandmother. Now, two young cousins from that Ukrainian family have fled to Israel and are safe with Fania's family. In the utter darkness of wartime, such as we're now witnessing in Ukraine, we wonder why a good God would allow such evil. Stories like this, of families transcending national, political, ethnic, and generational lines to sacrificially love others, remind us to thank God for allowing such beauty in the world.

In his book Life With a Capital L, author Matt Heard (also a speakers at this year's Wilberforce Weekend) describes a famous oil painting by Russian artist Nikolai Yaroshenko. "Five diverse prisoners—a soldier, a worker, a peasant, a mother and a child—are huddled together, peering through the barred window of a halted prison railcar. The child reaches through the steel bars, feeding pigeons on the railway platform. Even in the midst of an awful predicament, the five prisoners were making a choice to engage with something. With what?" "Yaroshenko's title gave me the clue, There Is Life Everywhere." Given the devastation mounting in Ukraine, that's a profound meditation. As I write this, casualties are mounting, and the Russian military is increasingly targeting civilian infrastructure, including a maternity ward in Mariupol. The resulting images—pregnant mothers and newborn infants being pulled out of the wreckage, shell-shocked faces covered in blood, thousands crammed into bus stations and bomb shelters and fleeing across Poland's border—remind us that life after Eden can be brutal, evil, and full of horror. Ironically, thousands of refugees are now streaming towards Nikolai Yaroshekno's own hometown of Poltava, once a city of the Russian Empire but now part of central Ukraine. When the scale of a crisis is this large, the dominant feeling for those watching is helplessness. If the actions of entire nations haven't been enough to stop Putin, what can ordinary people do? Like Yaroshenko's prisoners, we are trapped here in this broken world, forced to deal with life's fundamental brokenness and the stark reality of human evil. Yaroshenko's answer takes the form of a kid's grubby hand holding crumbs out for pigeons, a mom pointing her child to a simple wonder, and others taking it all in while facing a grim future. Evil may be everywhere … but so is life. So is goodness. So is beauty. Everything might be broken, but the goodness of our Creator's handwork shines through the darkness. In fact, in a very real sense, that we recognize the darkness as darkness, and evil as evil, presupposes the existence of light and goodness. And even in the midst of the darkness and evil in Ukraine right now, there is light. There is goodness. There is beauty. Take brand new baby Mia, born in a Kyiv bomb shelter as explosions rocked the surrounding neighborhoods. Or the nearly 4,000 marriages, some officiated in a mixture of bridal wear and fatigues, performed as Russian troops bore down on the city. For Christians, the context for the existence of evil is not just the good creation which precedes it. It is the redemption that will overcome evil. Anchored in His victory over death, Jesus offers abundant, overflowing life, not just in the distant future, but now. "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy," Jesus announced: "I came that they may have life and have it abundantly." This is no prosperity gospel. Nor is it some detached, pietistic hope of heaven. In Christ, there is life which both secures our eternal destiny and endows our earthly existence with meaning, love, and identity. C.S. Lewis articulated this brilliantly in his 1948 essay On Living in An Atomic Age. As the world first faced the possibility of nuclear destruction, Lewis offered an eternal context: "Those who care for something else more than civilization are the only people by whom civilization is at all likely to be preserved. Those who want Heaven most have served Earth best. Those who love man less than God do most for man." So, Lewis argued, should the atomic bomb ever drop, it ought to find us doing "sensible and human" things: praying, working, listening to music, laughing, and talking with friends. This is no naive or lighthearted invitation to shirk responsibility. It's an invitation to celebrate good things, even when by every worldly standard, the only realistic response is despair. Even now, there are Christians in Ukraine living this out: packing churches and singing hymns in a metro station. Volunteers who hosted "Night to Shine" events with the Tim Tebow foundation are now evacuating special needs families with their own trucks and gas. Indeed, there is life everywhere. In Christ, there is Life, abundant life, even in the darkest moments. "Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial," James wrote, "for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him." These words describe the joy and courage Christians have embodied for millennia, from the earliest martyrs to the Chibok schoolgirls. At the end of the day, there is Life everywhere.