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From its inception in 1908, the motto of Biola University has been “Above All Give Glory to God.” This value is especially evident in their Christian apologetics program, which not only possesses some of the finest Christian philosophers in the nation, but does so with theological rigor and fidelity. Under the auspice of this program, I enjoyed serving the Biola community this evening with Holy Ground.

Thanks to Dr. Craig Hazen and the Apologetics Department for their exceedingly gracious hospitality, and to all of the kind people who attended. Following are some photos from the event.

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It is day one of the Holy Ground book tour. Special thanks to Zondervan for their sponsorship.

Harvest Christian Fellowship in Riverside is a dynamic church where Greg Laurie serves as pastor. Many of you will know of Greg from his citywide evangelistic crusades. Something you may not know is that Greg lost his eldest son Christopher in 2008. On the Riverside website Greg offers a very touching statement about it, explaining how Christ has provided comfort to him and his family.

Following is a portrait of today from some photos that I snapped.

The French coffee shop to which Jimmy brought us this morning offered free homemade truffles with each cappuccino. This shot was taken on the outdoor patio where we sat and discussed theology for a couple of hours. A great way to start the day!

The campus of Harvest Christian Fellowship in Riverside is among the most beautiful that I have ever seen. More impressive still is the quality of their ministry. Pastor Carmen is one of those Christ-like guys who inspires you to love Jesus simply by his presence. It was also a joy to serve with Lenny Esposito, my fellow paisano.

After a wonderful Tex Mex dinner with some of the Harvest staff (by the way, order something other than beans and guacamole before you speak…note to self for the future) we arrived at the church for our venue. After an hour presentation, Lenny, who leads a fine apologetics ministry called Come Reason, joined me to answer questions. Several folks stuck around to express their appreciation. Frankly, this is the most enjoyable part: making new friends and occasionally hearing how Holy Ground has served them. Thank you Harvest for a wonderful event. Praise God for a terrific first day!

After scraping ice from my windshield at 5:00am this morning, I drove to Midway Airport en route to LA. I learned (with some disappointment) that in my town Starbucks doesn’t open till 5:30am. Thank God for the 24-hour Dunkin D’s!

Once airborne, I flipped open my laptop and watched a recent Biola debate between William Lane Craig and Christopher Hitchens on the question of God’s existence. Lane Craig marshaled one of the clearest and most substantive arguments I have heard.

My host and his wife are long-time friends from college. Today, I’m impressed with the value of friendship. Years pass, communication may be limited, but when friendships are genuine, you simply pickup where you left off without missing a beat. The older I get, the more clearly I recognize this blessing as among the greatest of life.

I tend to see myself as a modern-day Mr. Magoo: not particularly clever or intentional, but, despite myself, guided by divine oversight. Therefore, as I approach our Holy Ground book tour in Los Angeles and San Diego, which begins Monday evening, I’ve titled it “Mr. Magoo Goes to California.” Silly as this may sound, it is precisely the perspective needed to remind me of the One who is in control.

While I’m more like Magoo than I care to admit—on the verge of stepping off the edge of a metaphorical cliff or in front of a herd off fast-charging bulls—thankfully, God delights in saving Magoos. We might think that it’s our snappy hat or wooden cane, but, behold, there’s a far greater and glorious power at work. In fact, the word “power” is inadequate; it’s a person, or better still, person(s). God the Father extends grace through Jesus, by his Spirit to provide us with wisdom and strength in our moments of need. Indeed, this is what I’d ask you to please pray.

Over the next two weeks, as I speak at various churches and universities, interacting with all manner of Protestants and Catholics on a wide range of issues, I want to be the humble Magoo who, instead of directing attention to himself, highlights the greatness of God.

Hopefully, I’ll have tour updates for you blogged here along the way. In the meantime, would you please join me in praying that God would be glorified through this Magoo? Sincere thanks! 

Of all the questions I’m asked when I speak about Catholicism, this one is always asked: “In light of the Decrees of Trent, wouldn’t we still have to say that official Catholic doctrine on the matter of justification rises to the level of error so serious that it amounts to ‘another gospel’– thus warranting an apostolic anathema?”

The most helpful book I’ve read on this topic has been Justification by Faith in Catholic-Protestant Dialogue: An Evangelical Assessment by Anthony Lane, Professor of Historical Theology at London School of Theology. Tony Lane is a fine scholar (it’s a T&T Clark book, so if you buy it, do so when you still have a sizable chunk in your book budget). Here are a couple of Professor Lane’s conclusions, which I agree with and have found helpful.

Is the positive exposition of the Tridentine decree compatible with a Protestant understanding?

“No. When the difference in terminology is taken into account and when allowance is made for complementary formulations the gap turns out to be considerably narrower than is often popularly supposed, but a gap there remains.”

Do the Tridentine canons condemn the Protestant doctrine or only parodies of it?

“Many of the canons do not directly touch a balanced Protestant understanding, but a number clearly do. The verdict of The Condemnations of the Reformation Era (a joint ecumenical commission which met in the early 80’s) is as much a statement about the intentions of the churches today as a statement about the intentions of Trent and the Lutheran confessions.”

According to Lane’s conclusion, disagreement between the Catholic and Protestant understanding of justification remains, although it may not be as profound as we sometimes think. Still, giving the binding nature of Trent’s decrees, evangelical Protestants remain in the crosshairs of the Catholic Church’s anathematizing canons. To the extent that Catholics operate according to this Tridentine framework (i.e., defining their position over and against justification by faith alone), they appear to be skating on the same thin ice as Paul’s Galatian interlocutors and in imminent danger of falling into the frigid water of “another gospel.”

Yet, we must realize that many Catholics, including Pope Benedict himself, don’t understand justification in this Tridentine light. For instance, in the Pope’s sermon on justification in Saint Peter’s Square on November 19, 2008 he said, “Being just simply means being with Christ and in Christ. And this suffices. Further observances are no longer necessary. For this reason Luther’s phrase: ‘faith alone’ is true, if it is not opposed to faith in charity in love.” A week later on November 26 in the Paul VI Audience Hall the pontiff continued this emphasis, “Following Saint Paul, we have seen that man is unable to ‘justify’ himself with his own actions, but can only truly become ‘just’ before God because God confers his ‘justice’ upon him, uniting him to Christ his Son. And man obtains this union through faith. In this sense, Saint Paul tells us: not our deeds, but rather faith renders us ‘just.’”

Lest you think the Pope’s statements were an out of turn, momentary flash in the pan, you can also read them in his recent book Saint Paul (Pope Benedict XVI. Saint Paul. [San Francisco: Ignatius Press], 82-85). This same note is hit by many Catholic theologians, particularly those like Beckwith who identify as evangelical Catholic.

One will naturally ask, “How can the Pope affirm faith alone?” Lane provides helpful groundwork for understanding the reason when he writes, “The canons [of Trent] were deliberately not addressed against specific people and the statements condemned were derived from second- or third-hand compilations of the statements of the Reformers, taken especially from the earlier years of the Reformation and not seen in their original context” (Anthony Lane. Justification by Faith in Catholic-Protestant Dialogue: An Evangelical Assessment, pp. 104-105). Thus, unlike Alexander V’s papal bull against Wycliffism in 1409 or Leo X’s Exsurge Domine against Luther in 1520, Trent’s Canons were aiming into a mist of hearsay (not to be confused with the word heresy). Moving forward in history, even to the present, Catholic theologians have said, in effect, that because the bishops of Trent didn’t accurately understand Reformation teaching, the object of their canons were different from what truly was or is Reformed theology. Accordingly, the preamble of the Joint Declaration, an official ecumenical document endorsed by the Vatican in 1999 with the Lutheran World Federation, says in paragraph seven, “…this declaration is shaped by the conviction that in their respective histories our churches have come to new insights.” The “new insights” about which the Declaration speaks is the realization of Trent’s misguided critique of Reformed doctrines such as justification by faith alone. This, it seems, is the view that guides the understanding of Catholic theologians like Pope Benedict.

Of more immediate concern to me is the penetration of the biblical gospel—the message of divine grace accessed through faith alone—into the hearts of Catholic people who haven’t a clue why Jesus died, much less how salvation is appropriated. Catholic philosopher Peter Kreeft describes this problem:

“There are still many who do not know the data, the gospel. Most of my Catholic students at Boston College have never heard it. They do not even know how to get to heaven. When I ask them what they would say to God if they died tonight and God asked them why he should take them into heaven, nine out of ten do not even mention Jesus Christ. Most of them say they have been good or kind or sincere or did their best. So I seriously doubt God will undo the Reformation until he sees to it that Luther’s reminder of Paul’s gospel has been heard throughout the church” (Peter Kreeft. “Ecumenical Jihad.” Reclaiming The Great Tradition. Ed. James S. Cutsinger. [Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1997]. 27).

This is the concern of Holy Ground—that the grace of God in salvation remains central. When talking with Catholics, there are myriads of potential rabbit trails. We may enter into a conversation to talk about how Jesus provides life with meaning and suddenly find ourselves enmeshed in a debate about the apocrypha or Humanae Vitae. Sometimes it’s right to broach these subjects, but too often we do so at the expense of the gospel. This is tragic. What does it profit a person if he explicates a host of theological conundrums without focusing attention upon the death and resurrection of Jesus? In all of our discussion with Catholics we must consider, celebrate, and bear witness to the splendor and majesty of our Savior, the one who died, rose, and now lives.

PS The above photo is one I took at St Paul’s Cathedral Outside the Walls. When you visit Rome, make sure you get there. It’s out of the way, but worth it. Here are two more from the visit. Espresso, pastry & Paul. Amen

A few lessons come to mind—the need for a robust moral theology, relationship of faith and reason, historical rootedness, emphasis on catechesis and spiritual formation. Among these, here’s the primary one that I describe in Holy Ground (drawn from pp. 129-130).

Many Evangelicals seem to have a theological sickness. It’s not a condition that you can easily identify like lice or athlete’s foot. It’s much more subtle, like a parasitic tapeworm that hides in your digestive tract for months before you discover it. Philosophers call it a “platonic dualism.” In short, it’s an outlook that regards spiritual things to be inherently superior to the physical world—spirit is good, matter is evil.

When Catholics identify our illness they often do so with the following phrase: “You’re so heavenly minded that you’re no earthly good!” These words describe the tendency of Evangelicals to be overly spiritual on one hand and on the other oblivious to the practical needs of society. As one Evangelical preacher was fond of saying, “Don’t carry a loaf of bread in one hand and the Bible in the other, lest in your efforts to feed the poor you forget that you’re carrying the word of God.”

Very often we don’t realize that we have the theological tapeworm until our Catholic friends help us see it by their positive example. What I’m referring to is the Catholic practice of engaging culture, what is often called “social action.” Following from their emphasis on the principle of incarnation, Catholic ministry is concerned with how the life of Christ addresses the tangible dimensions of our world. Whether it’s education, politics, economics, sexual issues, prison reform, poverty, race issues, or sanctity of life, Catholics operate with a robust moral theology that is generally foreign to Evangelicalism.

In my role as Pastor of Community Outreach, I am keenly aware of how much we struggle with understanding how gospel ministry relates to the enterprise of cultural engagement. In our church we have a pretty good grasp on what needs to happen in the name of “evangelism;” but our handle on social outreach is clumsy at best.

Thankfully, there seems to be a growing awareness among Evangelicals today of the need to repent of our unbiblical dualisms. These often younger Evangelical leaders have somehow removed their tapeworms and therefore have an appetite to enrich culture as constructive agents of Christ’s kingdom. I’ll close this section with a quote from one of these agents who extricated his tapeworm long ago, if he ever had one, the British Pastor John Stott:

“It is exceedingly strange that any followers of Jesus Christ should ever have needed to ask whether social involvement was their concern, and that controversy should have blown up over the relationship between Evangelicalism and social responsibility. For it is evident that in his public ministry Jesus both ‘went about…teaching…and preaching’ (Matt 4.23; 9.35 RSV) and ‘went about doing good and healing’ (Acts 10.38 RSV). In consequence, evangelism and social concern have been intimately related to one another throughout the history of the Church” (John Stott. Issues Facing Christians Today: A Major Appraisal of Contemporary Social and Moral Questions. [Basingstoke: Marshalls, 1984], 2).

Several months ago, Paul Grimmond of Matthias Media asked me the following question in an interview. Because it regularly emerges as among the most popular questions, I have chosen to include it in this second installment of our apologetics series.

QUESTION: Chris, in your book Holy Ground you clearly articulate some of the significant differences in doctrine between Evangelicals and Roman Catholics while also continuing to call Roman Catholics "brothers and sisters in Christ" (p. 163). For many of the Reformers, the doctrinal differences led to quite different conclusions about where Roman Catholics stand in their relationship with God. I’m wondering if you can explore further for us what believing basic Roman Catholic doctrine means for the average Roman Catholic’s relationship with God? How do we juggle the importance of calling on our Roman Catholic friends to turn away from Roman Catholic belief and practice with the reality that they believe in God who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit?

ANSWER: First, thanks Paul for the privilege of this exchange.

In Holy Ground I use the word “some.” I call some Catholics “brothers and sisters in Christ.” In context, my statement on p. 163 is of my Catholic classmates from Boston College who were ardent defenders of Jesus’ literal death and resurrection, over and against our liberal classmates who appeared to be lost in the morass called postmodern relativism.

I would also say that many Catholics are not brothers and sisters in Christ (in the same way that many Protestants fail to posses genuine faith). God alone knows the condition of one’s heart, but I would go so far as to say that a Catholic who honestly believes what the Catholic Church teaches about justification—that it is based upon a mixture of faith and meritorious works—is likely not a brother or sister in Christ. I say “likely” because there are some Catholics who trust fully in Christ even though their religious confession relies upon unscriptural elements of Catholic tradition. In other words, it seems to me that the Bible teaches that one must believe with faith alone (Rom 4:4; Eph 2:8-9; Titus 3:5), but it doesn’t require that he or she believes in faith alone as a body of doctrine. John Piper makes this point, for instance, quoting John Owen who wrote: “‘Men may be really saved by that grace which doctrinally they do deny; and they may be justified by the imputation of that righteousness which in opinion they deny to be imputed.’ …Owen’s words are not meant to make us cavalier about the content of the gospel, but to hold out hope that men’s hearts are often better than their heads.” Accordingly, some Catholics appear to fully trust in Jesus, despite the teaching of their church. (John Owen, The Doctrine of Justification by Faith, chapter VII, “Imputation, and the Nature of It,” [Banner of Truth, Works, Vol. 5], 163-164. in John Piper. The Future of Justification. [Wheaton: Crossway, 2007], 25).

If this sounds anti-Catholic, please keep in mind that the Catholic Church says essentially the same thing about Protestants. From the Catholic point of view, the evangelical’s hope in justification is found in our observance of baptism which reflects the Catholic sacrament of baptism. We Protestants may think that we’re justified by faith alone, says the Catholic, but it’s actually on account of our baptism, which finds legitimacy in the sacrament of the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church. Am I offended by the Catholic view? Well, maybe a little. But I can deal with it because I realize it’s not personal and that Catholics are simply expressing the teaching of their church with candor. Hopefully, my comments are read in the same light.

Your reference to the Reformers is interesting. It’s undoubtedly true that many of them regarded Catholics to be without salvation, yet not all of them did. In fact, there is a significant tradition in Reformed theology of those who regard Catholicism to be an orthodox expression of Christianity, consisting of brothers and sisters in Christ, even while vehemently disagreeing with basic tenets like sola Scriptura and sola fide. Following are some notable examples.

For all of the sharp invectives that Martin Luther launched against the papacy and clergy, he wasn’t as harsh toward all Catholic people. This was so because under the barnacles of unbiblical Catholic tradition Luther recognized a scriptural core that could truly generate and nurture faith. In his words, “the Roman Church is holy, because it has God’s holy name, the gospel, baptism, etc.” (Gustaf Aulen, Reformation and Catholicity, trans. Eric H. Wahlstrom. Edinburgh: Oliver and Boyd, 1962. pg 76).

Calvin expressed a similar sentiment in his letter to Sadoleto that despite serious differences of doctrine “[it doesn’t mean] that Roman Catholics are not also Christians. We indeed, Sadoleto, do not deny that those over which you preside are Churches of Christ.”

Over three hundred years later in 1869, Princeton theologian Charles Hodge wrote to Pope Pius IX declining an invitation to attend Vatican I. After citing the reasons why his attendance and that of his delegates would not happen, he offers the following conclusion:

“Nevertheless, although we cannot return to the fellowship of the Church of Rome, we desire to live in charity with all men. We love all those who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity.

We regard as Christian brethren all who worship, love, and obey him as their God and Saviour, and we hope to be united in heaven with all who unite with us on earth in saying, ‘Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father; to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen’ (Rev. 1:6).”

Finally, after Charles Hodge we read this statement from another theologian of Princeton, J. Gresham Machen. Writing 50 years later about the relatively close proximity of Catholics to Evangelicals, compared to the chasm separating us from liberals, Machen highlights the common ground upon which we stand:

“Yet how great is the common heritage that unites the Roman Catholic Church…to devout Protestants today! [As significant as our difference is]…it seems almost trifling compared to the abyss which stands between us and many ministers of our own church” (J. Gresham Machen, Christianity and Liberalism (New York: Macmillan, 1923), p. 52).

This leads me to the final part of your question, Paul: “How do we juggle the importance of calling on our Roman Catholic friends to turn away from Roman Catholic belief and practice with the reality that they believe in God who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit?”

In Holy Ground, I challenge readers to follow the Protestant Reformers, and, more importantly Jesus himself, by expressing honesty about where we differ and, at the same time, extending true love and grace in our areas of disagreement with Catholics. The primary biblical touchstone for this is John 1:14 where it says of Jesus that he came “full of grace and truth.” There you have it. That’s the how. As our Lord maintained these virtues with a perfectly balanced poise, we must work to do the same. We can’t justify being irritable and crotchety, certainly not from the Bible, like foaming at the mouth pit bulls who go for the jugular of every Catholic who crosses our path. On the other hand, we must not be so open-minded that our brains fall out of our heads, lacking the theological chutzpah to be honest.

When a Catholic confesses the gospel and lives for Jesus, I’m applying the love about which 1 Cor. 13 speaks, love which “bears all things, believes all things, and hopes all things,” a love that extends the benefit of the doubt, puts its arm around this Catholic friend and calls him brother. I’m also going to proclaim the gospel and extend discipleship so that I and my Catholic friend together realize a greater level of sanctification. Would I like to see this friend eventually leave the Catholic Church? Yes, of course. I’m a Protestant Pastor who believes that on such issues of Christian authority and soteriology, Protestants are fundamentally right. To say otherwise would be disingenuous. And yet, I’m not going to insist that such a departure happen in my time frame. The Lord is my friend’s shepherd as much as he is mine. Indeed, I must apply my Calvinism at this precise point by faithfully and winsomely trusting in God’s sovereignly timed oversight. Thus, in the final analysis, we must approach this enterprise as Peter says in his first epistle, “honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect” (1 Peter 3:15-16).

Thanks again Paul for this opportunity. Richest blessings to you and yours!

In two weeks I’m scheduled to deliver a presentation at Biola University in Los Angeles, hosted by their apologetics department, titled Confessions of a Former Catholic.  You can read about the event from the school’s website. A Catholic professor living in the area who read the advertisement wrote asking me to answer some questions in advance for his students. It then occurred to me that perhaps others might be interested. So, here is the first one, my view of the Eucharist from John 6:

“I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh” (v. 51).

“So Jesus said to them, "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.” (v. 53-54)

“For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink” (v. 55)

First, we must remember the context of John’s Gospel. Jesus has just fed the 5000, and despite their full stomachs, these folks are not satisfied. They want a sign to demonstrate that Jesus is in fact the Messiah of Israel. In response, Jesus explains his identity with the first so called “I am” statement, which appears in verse 35:

“Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst’” (v. 35)

Using the Old Testament metaphor of bread from heaven, as in the manna which God provided for Israel in the desert, Jesus presents himself as God’s provision for humanity, who, like righteousness itself, satisfies our deepest hunger and thirst (cf. vv. 49-51).

The Jews then argued among themselves asking, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat.” Because of their woodenly literal interpretation of Jesus’ words (‘this man is speaking of his real flesh’), the Jews completely missed the metaphorical meaning and thus the point of Jesus statement.

May I suggest, with the utmost respect and humility, that this is the flaw of the Catholic interpretation. It imposes a literal reading of vv. 51-58, when in fact the passage should be understood theologically. In other words, rather than feasting on his actual flesh, Jesus calls people to receive him as the source of eternal life, God’s appointed Savior who alone satisfies human appetites.

Okay Chris, if that’s the case, why does Jesus use such emphatic language in vv. 51-58? i.e., “My flesh is real food, and my blood is real drink.” I’m glad you asked.

This appears to be an example of what we see throughout the prophets, that when Israel’s heart is hardened and she refuses to receive God’s word, God’s messenger employs figurative language. In fact, I think the text bears this out precisely. Please notice what happens from the middle of the discourse moving toward its conclusion:

Finally, for those of you who are perhaps still skittish about the word “figurative,” let’s remember that this is the nature of Jesus’ “I am” statements. He is the light of the world (John 8:12), he is the door (John 10:7), and he is the vine (John 15:1), for example.   The Lord doesn’t swing on hinges or produce grape juice, but thankfully he is the real entranceway to the Father and, like a life-giving vine, the source of everlasting life. For this reason we receive him as we would bread and wine (or grape juice, if you prefer), with satiable hunger and true joy.

In chapter five of Holy Ground I describe a celebration in the Piazza Campo dei Fiori of Rome after the Italian soccer team defeated Germany in double overtime of the semi-final World Cup. This is a clip of the event followed by an excerpt from the book explaining its significance.

“As the evening festivity continued, the terraces around the piazza filled with spectators. From one such window emerged an elderly gentleman in his undershirt, enjoying a smoke. A few young men noticed the resemblance of this fellow to the late Fascist dictator Benito Mussolini. They shouted, “Look up, look up” and began calling to the second story window, “Il Duce, Il Duce” (Mussolini’s nickname translated “the Leader”). Soon others were allured by this phenomenon. The old man played the part with delight. Initially, I thought he was a professional actor since he performed so well; then I realized he was simply Italian. Others quickly joined in and soon the entire piazza was looking to the same window where the old man with the prominent hooked nose and protruding chin enjoyed his moment of fame. The crowd continued to chant, “Duce, Duce, Duce!” as the Benito look-alike waved and blew kisses to his adoring fans.

Among the various lessons I learned in the Roman piazza is the importance of having a leader. God has created us to follow him; men and women cannot function otherwise. However, from the Greek philosopher Protagoras to the blue-eyed Sinatra of Hoboken, man has measured meaning by himself and has sought to live his own way.

Catholics and Evangelicals agree that men and women are designed to depend on God and not live as delusional demigods who create their own destiny. Scripture describes us as sheep whom God leads into green pastures. When a sheep wanders off by himself, it isn’t long before danger befalls him. To avoid this calamity, the shepherd extends nurture and protection. Such loving care is graphically expressed by Charles Spurgeon in the following story:

One evening, in 1861, as General Garibaldi was going home, he met a Sardinian shepherd lamenting the loss of a lamb out of his flock. Garibaldi at once turned to his staff and announced his intention of scouring the mountain in search of the lamb.  A grand expedition was organized.  Lanterns were brought, and old officers of many a campaign started off, full of zeal, to hunt the fugitive.   But no lamb was found, and the soldiers were ordered to their beds.  The next morning Garibaldi’s attendant found him in bed, fast asleep.  He was surprised at this, for the General was always up before anybody else.  The attendant went off softly and returned in half-an-hour.  Garibaldi still slept. After another delay, the attendant awoke him.  The General rubbed his eyes, and so did his attendant when he saw the old warrior take from under the covering the lost lamb and bid him convey it to the shepherd.  The General had kept up the search through the night until he had found it.  Even so does the Good Shepherd go in search of His lost sheep until He finds them.[1]

“We all like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way,” says the prophet Isaiah (53:6). In John’s Gospel Jesus says, "I am the Good Shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me—just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep (John 10:14-15).” In response to these statements, all Christians say “amen.” Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world died, rose, and is now seated beside the Father in heaven. Up to this point Catholics and Evangelicals are of one mind. However, disagreement comes with the question that usually follows: who represents the Good Shepherd on earth?”

[1] Charles Spurgeon, The Best of C.H. Spurgeon, (Grand Rapids, MI, Baker Book House, 1978), 117.

Kay Burley, British news anchor on Afternoon Live, marvels at the size of Joe Biden’s “bruise” (seconds 25 to 110):