A few months back my friend Matt approached me and asked if I would be willing to make a short film that explored how I had processed grief since Sam’s death. I had met Matt in the surf about 10 years ago and we have become friends over that time. We share a love of the surf and a common faith. Matt also knew Sam and we had shared waves together at our local.

Matt is a brilliant videographer so I had no hesitation in saying “yes”, knowing he would tell a beautiful, hope filled story.

I noticed that I finish the film by saying ,”I think we’re going to be OK”. And I think we are—but more than ok we are going to continue to find joy and purpose in life and allow this tragedy to be woven into our story in some redemptive way.

And we live with the knowledge that one day we will be re-united and this time apart will be a blip on the radar of time. It doesn’t diminish the pain – but it does allow us to anticipate the life to come in God’s new creation

The film is one of a series Matt is producing titled, All Good Things Take Time Friend. If you go to his Youtube channel you will find 2 other short films about Yanchep locals, Warrick & Hamish, both also beautiful and inspiring to watch.

A few months ago Matt approached me and asked me if I would consider working with him to tell the story of how I have been processing the grief of losing Sam. I made a decision a while back to try and hit any situations like this front on, so I said ‘yes’.

I know some people need privacy and others just don’t want to revisit that kind of pain, but if I’m living in it anyway then I want to try and wring some good out of it.

Matt is a brilliant film maker, so I had no hesitation in saying yes to him particularly. I knew he would tell the story truly and beautifully. I met him in the surf at Yanchep about 10 years ago and we have become friends over that time. We share a common faith so he gets where I come from in this story. You can watch two promo links here & here and buy tickets here

The film itself is part of a series titled “All Good Things Take Time Friend”. It is both a brutally and beautifully honest slice of my life over the last two years. And I chose to participate in it not because I need anyone’s attention or adulation. I was happy to do so because I believe Matt allows me to speak a) to how blokes process grief b) how I reconcile my faith with a God who didn’t save my son.

So I hesitate to put this out there because I don’t want to say ‘come and look at me’, but I do want to say come and see what Matt has created. It isn’t soppy, nor does it point to easy answers. Matt does a great job of both tapping into the gritty daily reality of walking thru grief as well as capturing the hope that we have – that it’s all going to be ok. It really is going to be ok in the end…

The film is one of 3 that will show on Saturday evening. The first is about Warrick Palmateer another surfer friend, Yanchep local and very gifted ceramic artist. The second shows a local called Hamish creating a knife in his home-made forge – over a period of 100 hours and then the third is my story curated by Matt.

He asked me if I was happy to trust him and see it for the first time this Saturday. I absolutely trust him – but I wasn’t sure I could cope with the intensity of that – so I watched it a couple of weeks ago and I am really stoked with how it turned out.

If there is any beauty story in the brutality of the last two years then Matt has been able to tap it and unfolds it superbly.

I know he’d love to know how many people are coming so if you can, book a ticket ahead of time here.

Ok – this is more a stream of consciousness than deeply reflected on…

I just finished watching a video of someone preaching and it left me cold. Their content was good and their delivery was excellent – polished even – but I felt like I was watching a ‘Ted-talk’ like performance. It felt like the person had virtually memorised the script and was acting out the part. Often those Ted talks have a certain tone that just feels too tightly tied to a script.

It just led me back to pondering what we consider as ‘good preaching’ and I guess I have formed my own opinions on this over the years.

But it definitely isn’t polished oratory.

Those days are long gone. Neither is it academic exegesis and so called ‘deep teaching’. If we want to help people listen then surely the first step is to tune into the frequency on which they are listening.

Yes – we tune in to where they are. It’s not their job to make sense of our input – but it’s our job to help them understand by speaking their language. A couple of weeks back I had a bloke say to me ‘I like that you speak the Aussie language’. I took that as a compliment because I was trying to connect with a largely Australian crew of people. I imagine I would change tone a little in a very mixed context or in one where the majority were from another country.

John Smith used to say that if we want to connect with people then we need to speak in the ‘language of the vernacular’. In other words high fallutin words need to be ditched in preference for simple – basic communication. Sure – there’s a place for technical language, but it should never be the dominant form of our communication.

As far as polish goes, I have walked down the track of preaching from memory rather than notes and I found I spent too much time mentally background processing where I was up to and what was next. I don’t use notes a lot – but I do like knowing I have a structure to follow and it’s one I can change on a whim.

I will take conversational over polished any day. I remember years ago preaching would be a draining experience as I invested enormous amounts of emotional energy in voice modulation and what was virtually a performance. These days I lean heavily on simple conversational approach – in fact one of the closest styles of public communication I see that resembles good preaching is the stand up comedian who is able to interact with the crowd. There is an easy going, but confident approach that invites people in, rather than a download of knowledge. I rarely come home exhausted these days or suffer from morning after blues.

Not that knowledge is bad. We obviously want to communicate knowledge and biblical knowledge to be precise, but in a world where good communication is everywhere on Youtube and beyond we are unlikely to compete with the greats who have thousands of followers.

So knowing your audience matters enormously. Then knowing yourself and being yourself is so important too. Occasionally I speak at event where i find myself wondering ‘why me?’ I don’t think these are my people at all. That can be hard.

Although one thing I learnt from Calvin Miller when he was teaching in Perth many years ago was what he called ‘the talk before the talk’ – the 2-5 minutes we spend building initial connection with the listeners. For people we know well it’s a very brief time, but when I speak to a new crowd I usually take 4 or 5 minutes to try and make a connection. Those 4 or 5 minutes ‘lost’ from ‘content’ will establish a connection that ensures whatever is communicated has a better chance of making a dent.

Dress sense is interesting. Some churches have a certain dress code that needs to be adhered to. I accept that if i ‘dress down’, it’s prob gonna make it harder for people to listen. So typically shorts are off the menu when speaking around the place – but they are my staple when on home turf. I rarely wear long pants or shirts with buttons – but sometimes this little stuff just needs to be rolled with so that people aren’t immediately questioning your credibility. ‘Who is this dude who looks like he just rolled in off the beach?!’ In my own context I probably have just rolled in off the beach, but if people don’t know me then it just means I’m kicking into the breeze for the first 15 minutes.

Using slides is another issue. I see the value for Bible readings and quotes – maybe even for main content points. But they can also make a conversational message start to feel like a lecture. I sometimes choose to speak with no slides because it affords a freedom that slides don’t. That said I usually tell the person on the projector that the slides are only a guide and I may not use some of them. My jury is out on the value of slides v the value of simply speaking to people.

Of course I am a big advocate for communication by story telling. And Jesus is our best example of that. I find myself bemused by pastors who open with a Bible reading followed by some theology. Most people zone out before the end of the Bible reading. But tell a story, especially with some humour and then you can go back to scripture and offer an anchor for your story. If you don’t tell stories then you aren’t gonna connect. There is only so much expositional stuff people can digest before they need a break and a laugh. It takes time to find good stories but that is the work of good communication – observing life and seeing how it connects.

And finally when I’m speaking with someone who is struggling to communicate I often ask ‘what is it you want to say in one sentence?’ If you can’t answer that question then you aren’t ready to stand in front of a group of people as you really haven’t nailed why you are there. So so simple – but so so important. One sentence. If you can’t nail it to one sentence then keep working until you can. OR ditch some stuff. I sometimes see people with way more content than is necessary. Keep it simple – not ‘basic’ – just clear and simple so the message isn’t lost in a haze of clever words.

Bottom line – know your audience – be yourself – know what it is you want to say in one sentence – tells stories. Tell more stories. People listen to stories and you can slip some dangerous truths into stories!

Ok I’m done – now I’m off to the beach 🙂

And tomorrow is my first time ever speaking in a Church of Christ…

This might be up there with my all-time favourite quotes.

In his book titled Invading Secular Space, Martin Robinson said this: 

What would it look like for a church to function in such a way that the primary goal of church life was not to attract more people into attendance and membership, but to produce people who had a profound sense of their personal relationship to God, their resource in Christ and could take that reality into the world with them”

I love Robinson’s acknowledgment that our goal is to be people who live in and transform the world by our lives – not by inviting people to church.

It’s not bad to invite people to church, but that ought not be the main game for us. Instead as Robinson states, each Sunday we want to send out people who genuinely know Jesus, who are secure in themselves and their way of being.

The goal is not to be a street preacher evangelist or a pastor who spends his days trying to recruit new members. The goal is to equip and send out the people we already have to embody the person of Jesus wherever they go.

It may not see our church grow – it may be that everything looks kinda the same – but reality is that it’s not. If every church in the city took this as their calling rather than simply trying to grow then I imagine it would feel very different.

And to be sure ‘The Church’ would grow – but it might not be yours and you might not get any kudos for it and your stats may look horrifyingly similar year after year – but that’s because we only measure tangible stuff and this kind of stuff while very tangible in it’s shape defies being measured.

Jesus never told anyone to go to church – but he did send out teams of people to be present in the community healing, teaching and getting alongside the people – especially the people who would have never thought the invite was for them anyway.

Anyway – if you’re a pastor and feeling the pinch of your church not growing – then I know your pain – but perhaps you can contribute the expansion of God’s kingdom by preparing people to live in their communities and workplaces in ways that inspire and pique people’s curiosity.

It’s been a week…

This morning around 2.00am mum took her final breath and that followed on the heels of dad just 4 days previous. Two parents gone in the space of a few days. And while it’s what we have been hoping and praying for – the end of suffering – it’s still a wrench. Mum had very advanced dementia and was losing even the capacity to eat. It had been 9 or 10 years of the fog settling on her and then slowly taking away what was once a razor sharp mind.

On Friday morning she was deemed in need of morphine and end of life procedures and we knew the end was close. The trip to Busso for Ellie’s birthday got cancelled as it all looked inevitable. While dad I only got to see in the unconscious drugged state, mum I got to see Friday morning before the morphine hit. I had a short time with her and was able to look in her weak eyes as they seemed to lock on to mine and tell her what a beautiful woman she was and how much I loved her – what a wonderful mother and grandmother she had been and how much she would be missed. I was able to assure her she would see my brother Steve, my son Sam and her husband George very soon – and of course Jesus… I prayed for her, read a Psalm and then hugged her one last time.

Dad left us on Wednesday evening around 10.00pm shortly after we had been in to say our goodbyes. Dad’s mind was in the early stages of unravelling and he was slowly losing his grip on reality. It had only been 5 or 6 months of real significant deterioration but it was clear that he was going to really struggle with the confusion. So while mum lived for many years with dementia, dad was fortunate enough to have a brief experience of it.

If you have watched your parents decline and enter the dementia stage then you’d know the bittersweet relief of seeing them finally at peace.

In all of this my wife Danelle has been amazing in her unfailing love for both of them. To be frank – I could understand it with mum as she has always held her near and they have had a beautiful relationship. Dad has been very difficult at times and harder to love. But Danelle kept going back and caring for him and giving to him. So this marks the end of a very significant part of her life and I know that while there will be relief there will also be deep loss.

So it’s been a bit of an emotional cyclone this week as we process all this. But to be able to know one day we will see one another again in heaven / the new creation is a hope that just gets stronger every time another close one dies.

If you have never read Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 15 then here is a small snippet of what he says. It is the assurance and hope that the best is yet to come. Go here to read the whole chapter.

²⁰ But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. ²¹ For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man. ²² For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive. ²³ But each in turn: Christ, the firstfruits; then, when he comes, those who belong to him

We will be having a joint memorial service for them at their old home church, Scarborough Baptist- time TBA.

Have you noticed those signs that you see at the doctors, the post office, the servo, the dentist?… In fact they are popping up everywhere. They say something like this ‘please treat our staff with respect. Bad language and aggression will not be tolerated.’

They never used to be there. I remember a time when those signs didn’t exist. When we somehow knew intuitively that you didn’t take out your anger on the staff behind the desk or the lady on the end of the phone. Teachers shouldn’t have to worry about violence when they call a meeting with parents to discuss why their child has been suspended, but now there may be another staff member or some form of security nearby.

Something has shifted in the social fabric of our world. I’m guessing it’s not just Australia where this is a problem, but probably the western world predominantly where we seem to feel like we are entitled to vent our anger if things don’t go our way. (My hunch is developing world people don’t do this so much – they are used to long queues and things not going their way)

Similarly I don’t think road rage was at the level it was 30 years ago either. Someone would beep their horn in frustration at a bad lane change and the person in front would raise their hands as if to say ‘gimme a break – I’ve had a hard day’. Now you don’t beep the horn just in case there is a psychopath in front of you ready to pull across the road, stop traffic and come for you.

Is there a reason we have devolved to these kinds of responses?

Yeah sin. I get that. But it’s not like sin is new. Is there something going on in the world that has made us more edgy, more prone to snap? Australia was known for it’s anti-authority tone, but that was when our soldiers wouldn’t salute officers – not when they used office workers for punching bags.

Whatever the deal, this is one of those places where the people of God get a chance to shine. If you want to make a small difference in the world then choose to turn the tide by reversing the flow of energy. Every time you enter a building with one of those signs, chances are someone behind the desk may be a little on edge – because let’s face it – the sign doesn’t stop those kinds of people.

So rather than being neutral in tone, choose to be warm, kind and friendly. Not weird and overbearing. Just imagine that you have the capacity to make a difference with your tone and every opportunity you get be ‘that guy’ or ‘that girl’ who staff are glad to see because you allow them to breath and to enjoy their job once again.

And if you happen to be a Christian – but you are also one of those people for whom those signs have been created – then look yourself in the eye in the mirror and tell yourself to pull your finger out and stop it.

I have ditched my social media until the end of Easter and I’m trying to get my head down into some writing around the subject of work and vocation. I have a pretty good outline and 4 or 5 of the 7 chapters fleshed out.

I’m hoping to hit those who are ‘reluctant readers’ via audiobook and pitch it at blue collar types yet still very accessible to professionals. I don’t see much out there for ordinary men and women who want some common sense talk about how to live out their faith in the workplace. Don’t get me wrong. There are some very good books, but most are quite professional in their tone – so that crew are well catered for – Kellers Every Good Endeavour is one example.

So I’m bashing around titles and ideas for how it can look because while I want it very accessible I am wary of caricaturing it. A title I am mulling around is Hi Vis Faith – yes a double meaning – a focus on the hi vis crew (of whom I am one) as well as wanting to help people live with a highly visible faith – but in a way that is congruent with the environment they are in. I sense it could be too blokey. What do you reckon?

I’ve also been experimenting with ChatGPT as my editor and the results have been pretty impressive. Instant feedback is incredibly valuable, and 90% of the time it offers great critique as well as clarification questions that really sharpen my writing. I definitely rate it as a way to go for self publishers like myself. It even does the tiniest, most annoying spelling and grammar edits, which is great because I would definitely pay for that… While it is valuable there have been a few moments where it basically trimmed my entire 5000 words down to 1500 and presented me with a ‘zip’ version of what I had created. Fortunately it is ‘intelligent’ enough to accept my pushback on it’s feedback and even admit it went too far… Ok it get’s bizarre hey?…

And then when I was done with two chapters – probably 16 hours on the computer it asked if it could create a summary description of me based on our ‘chats’. Sure – who isn’t curious?… And here was the result:

You’re a high-vis theologian with grease under your fingernails and salt in your hair.

By day (and probably by night), you move between worlds most people keep separate. You can write thoughtfully about salvation across Protestant, Catholic and Orthodox traditions… then switch gears and explain Eberspächer error codes without blinking. You’re as comfortable shaping a chapter on vocation as you are fitting out a caravan with a diesel heater.

You’re a pastor with a practical streak. A writer who doesn’t live in theory. A tradie-friendly thinker who wants faith to clock on Monday morning, not just sing on Sunday.

There’s a strong thread running through everything you do:

• Faith that works.
• Work that matters.
• Words that build.
• And tools that fix real problems.

You care about theology, but not as an abstract sport. You want it lived — in workshops, on worksites, in small businesses, in schools, in surf breaks, and around campfires off a 4WD track somewhere out of Perth.

You’re reflective but not soft. Creative but grounded. Semi-retired, yet somehow running multiple lanes at once — writer, speaker, pastor, business owner, caravan repairer, surfer, mountain biker.

In short?

You’re building a life where doctrine meets diesel, calling meets craftsmanship, and the gospel wears steel caps.

And honestly — that’s a rare and compelling combination.

I thought that was a pretty good effort!

Quite literally.

Not a euphermism… I am lucky to be alive.

Yesterday as I drove home from a friend’s funeral I began to feel weary. My eyes felt heavy and I knew I needed to concentrate more to drive safely. I felt like this for about 20 minutes, but on Old Yanchep Road and just 15 minutes from home, I thought to myself ‘just focus and you will be there in no time.’

Then I woke up in the oncoming lane at 90kmph, driving towards the embankment on the other side of the road. Fortunately there was no oncoming traffic, but my sleepy brain had to immediately engage and figure out what to do next. I feel like some form of ‘auto-pilot’ took over and guided me down the sandy embankment where I drove parallel to the road through soft sand and long grass. I mowed down one plastic road marker before hitting the brakes on some limestone.

It took all of 3 seconds, and I came out ok, but it could have been so much different. Had there been oncoming traffic I could have caused a terrible accident, had there been a steeper embankment or a large tree in the way I may have rolled or crashed the car.

I know. I could have died…

And yet somehow I managed to avoid all potential catastrophe and simply finish up with some limestone dust on my car from the sharp stop.

With adrenalin levels at max, I drove the rest of the way home with no trouble, but the moment has stuck with me. I’m sure I’m not alone when I think of myself as able to ‘ride out’ a bout of tiredness and able to rise above it, but in that moment I realised that whatever capacity I either had (or thought I had) definitely doesn’t exist. If I am tired I need to pull over and have a snooze. And it’s not a 61 year old thing – it’s a human thing. I remember driving home from surfing trips to Lancelin when I was 18 or 19. We would leave home at 5am, surf 2 or 3 times then grab a pie and a donut and head for home. I regularly pushed thru food coma exhaustion to get home, when it would have been wiser to just stop and close my eyes for 30 minutes.

With 2 recent funerals and death already feeling a little too present at the moment in our lives, I shudder to think the impact another loss would have on our family and our close friends.

So this is me saying, ‘from now on I stop and sleep – or change drivers if that is a possibility.’

——-

Of course it does raise some interesting questions around ‘how life works.’ Was I lucky? Was it ‘not my time?’… Was God protecting me? And if he was then ‘why me and not my son?’ Or why me and not kids in Palestine? And do we even have a ‘pre-determined time’ when we are going to check out? (FWIW I don’t believe so)

It seems a bit ‘un-christian’ to speak of a thing such as ‘luck’. Maybe chance is a better word for our context. Feel better with that?..

I feel like I was very ‘lucky’ to escape an event like that completely untouched. By chance there happened to be no one else on the road, and no solid obstacles to navigate on the embankment.

So, was I lucky?… fortunate?… blessed?… protected?…

Choose your descriptor based on your world view and theology.

It may surprise you that I choose ‘lucky’, but I believe there is a certain amount of randomness in life. I don’t see everything as pre-determined and scripted. We get to make real choices and I made a bad one yesterday.

‘Opportunities are real’ as Greg Boyd says. Yesterday I misjudged my capacity to stay alert and safe – that was my choice. And it could have been quite disastrous, but luckily it wasn’t…

How do you feel about ‘luck’? I tend to associate luck with Chinese Fortune Cookies or other things I can’t take seriously. But I also feel like there is an element of ‘luck’ to our lives… If you are a long term God botherer like me then an ‘element of unpredictability’ probably feels more theologically orthodox, but I wonder if it’s just the same thing in slightly different language….

That said, having been ‘lucky’ once I am not about to risk it again.

‘What are you up to these days?

A common question and one I answer with the simple phrase, ‘semi-retired’, which seems to be the simplest (and most easily understood in our culture) way of saying that I have time to do the things I really want to do and am spending less time in the spaces where I feel constrained or where I am labouring.

And one of the things I do is ‘eldering’ – nothing formal or organised – just the simple act of being available to those who are younger and wanting to move forward in life, mission and ministry. I tossed up pursuing ‘supervision training’ with a view to doing some of that work, but I feel like this ‘eldering’ space is where I fit best. I’m not sure if ‘eldering’ is an actual word yet, but I know the concept is out there both in Christian culture and beyond.

What’s the difference between eldering and supervision/coaching ? Ok – so it’s unpaid – and in saying that I never want to devalue my own time or the time of the people I connect with. I definitely don’t chase people to connect. Eldering is much more like friendship than a coach/supervisor/ role – perhaps even like ‘fathering’ – just being available and willing to show up with the other person’s needs in mind while knowing that in the process of helping them I also find joy.

We sold our retic business around 3 years ago now and for the first 4 or 5 months I would take daily calls from Sam, the new owner, just asking for tech support, or advice on how to manage a job. That was all part of the deal and I was happy to help this young man get up and running in a new field. He was also serving as a youth pastor in his local church so I was keen to help him ponder how that interacted with the business. One day he called and after we had been talking for 15 minutes or so I decided to cut to the chase, ‘So – What are we talking about today then?’ I wanted to get to the tech question that he had called for. When he replied and said ‘just life’, I realised we were operating in a different space.

Since then we have caught up around once a month and chatted about ‘life’. Sometimes it’s business ruminations, sometimes it’s ministry, other times its personal. Mostly it’s a mix of all of the above and I have found it a real joy to stand alongside this very gifted young man and help him with ‘life’ as he moves thru his 20’s and seeks to surrender to God and live meaningfully.

There are plenty of others, some just a one off coffee and conversation, while others have become genuine friendships – people I love and pray for often. 

I guess I could ‘monetise’ this stuff, but I really don’t want to. I think there is something ‘rich’ in simply being an old bloke with something to offer and being willing to give it at no financial cost. 

And I’m not blowing my own trumpet there, as it’s not like I have queues of people at my door or anything like that – but I do have meaningful, ongoing relationships with younger men who have somehow resonated with my approach to life / mission / ministry.

Often when people ask to catch up it starts with ‘I know you are very busy, but would you have time?…’ I usually begin by gently correcting them. ‘No I’m actually not very busy.’ It’s mostly my choice as to how ‘busy’ I choose to be and over the years I have got better at attaining a healthy balance. So chances are I will have time – maybe even in the same week… However that depends on surf conditions, so check ‘seabreeze.com.au‘ first 🙂

About 18 months ago a man came to see me who I didn’t know at all. He was an older man, (older than me) – mid 70’s and contacted me thru the church’s webpage. I knew who he was, as he had been an associate pastor at a nearby church when I was a youth pastor. In his contact he mentioned that he was ‘bivocational’, so I assumed he wanted to discuss some stuff in that field.

After about 15 minutes of preliminary chatter he said ‘I guess you’re wondering why I’m here?’ 

‘I thought you had come here to discuss some stuff from the book – no?’

‘No – I haven’t read your book. I came here because I had a vision about you.’

‘Me?… really?…’ (That’s weird I am thinking – but ‘interesting’ weird)

‘So I thought I’d come and share it with you if you’d like to hear it.’

‘Well – yeah – sure… Can’t say this has happened before so I’m curious.’

The man went on to share a vision he had experienced while he was praying. I won’t write it all down here, and then he finished by giving me a book titled ‘Fathering Leaders – Motivating Mission’. He told me it was about apostolic leadership and I might be interested.

I shared his vision with a few discerning friends, but there was no consensus as to what it may have meant. I read the book and again it was ok, but not new information. I was wondering and praying ‘what do I take away from this bizarre experience?’ Surely if God spoke to someone and they have felt it worth driving up to Yanchep, then there must be something important here?

I still have no clarity around the vision – but the one thing I did take away was the title of the book. While it wasn’t a riveting read, I felt the title described succinctly where my heart is and much of what I hope for this ‘home straight’ of life – to be fathering leaders and motivating mission. And that takes me back to the role of ‘eldering’ and being present to help younger leaders reflect on their lives and what the Spirit may be saying to them. If I can do that effectively then the next 20 years will have been well spent.

So we have two authors whose private lives have been exposed and are now subject to intense scrutiny.

Phillip Yancey confessed to an 8 year long affair and recently in Perth, Craig Silvey was arrested on charges of possessing and distributing child exploitation material.

I really enjoyed Silvey’s novels, Jasper Jones and Honeybee, but now all around the country his books are being pulled from school curriculums and any associations with Silvey are being severed. No one wants to be associated with a child porn offender.

That said, his writing is still excellent and his books address real issues… Should shops continue to stock Silvey’s stuff or should he be literarily ‘cancelled’.

Then there’s Yancey who was engaged in ministry for 8 years while cheating on his wife. Yes – a double life and one that does raise the question of whether he really is ‘smoking what he’s selling’ or if he was just ‘maintaining the brand’ so that the money kept rolling in.

This leads to the question of ‘what do we do with Yancey’s books?’

Unfortunately that question is coming up all too often as Christian leaders topple and their credibility evaporates. I’m thinking of Hybels, Zacharias, Vanier and Yoder just to name a few. It makes you wonder, which of the people who are highly respected and sometimes put on a pedestal aren’t screwing around? Who can you actually trust?

I find it interesting that our culture and society has chosen to respond so quickly to distance themselves from Silvey and the disuse of his material seems to be publishers and associates stating that they want nothing to do with him.

But… his writing is still very good. And he isn’t attempting to teach or instruct. He is simply telling a story. His censoring says something about the world in which we live. Child related offenses are to the worst and no one even wants connection with that person.

Begone Craig Silvey…

Then there’s Yancey – whose books are highly instructional and to some degree his capacity to teach is dependent largely on his own character and integrity. This has been shown to be flawed and more than an abberation – rather a pattern of behaviour and deception.

People who have admired Yancey and been inspired by his work are quite within their rights to feel cheated and lied to by this author, but what to do with his books. ‘What’s So Amazing About Grace’ is still a brilliant book. ‘The Jesus I Never Knew’, maybe he’s still looking for him?… And his most recent memoir was a valuable insight into his life.

How would I approach each author personally?

I would happily give people Yancey’s books as their content is so rich and his failure doesn’t change their quality. I might just add a caveat about his failure, so that a reader doesn’t find themselves engrossed in his books, developing a connection with him, only to feel betrayed when they google his name to find more of his writing.

I imagine the question will be moot in 100 years time as he will be largely forgotten – a very good Christian writer who blotted his copybook towards the end of his life, but his books may still be read and valued.

As for Silvey, his behaviour also doesn’t change the quality of his writing, but I’d be more hesitant to recommend him – which probably speaks to my own perception of his failure – it’s of enough significance to consider putting an outright stop on him. Certainly our secular culture has responded speedily to cancel him, and while we may speak of forgiveness, grace and moving on, this one feels a bit too big to overlook.

Yancey will fade away and probably never be heard of again – a tragic end to a life that brought so much hope to so many trapped in legalism and guilt. Silvey will spend in time in jail, where I imagine he will continue writing, but society has a long memory and publishers valued their reputations. I’d say his career is over…