Use of the Nazi Name and its Effect on Collective Memory

Name-calling is a common phenomenon in our society, particularly in politics. This is nothing new; a perusal of congressional speeches from the early years of our nation will reveal a flamboyant variety of insults. Yet in the post-WWII years, a historical comparison has emerged as a new slur: calling someone a Nazi or drawing the connection to Hitler. In fact, memes comparing each of the current presidential candidates to the fascist dictator are not infrequent when scrolling through a news feed.

Such a comparison essentially has become the ultimate low-blow—if you really want to draw the connection between an opponent and evil, you throw in a Nazi reference. Yet because Hitler and the Nazis presided over unspeakable acts of horror, and because most of the persons labeled with the term these days are not guilty of anything close to Nazi-level atrocities, the comparison is often shrugged off as overblown or considered taboo.

So what’s wrong with that? you might be thinking. Isn’t that a good thing?

Well, yes and no. Of course, aside from the obvious foundational assertion that it’s generally better to avoid name-calling, period, it’s especially a good idea to avoid applying inaccurate names to someone—or associations blown out of proportion. So in that sense, it’s a positive thing that flippantly or maliciously calling someone Hitler has little potency.

But another consequence of the frequency and subsequent dilution of the term(s) is negative. In effect, it seems that in the collective memory of our nation, the true force and character of what Hitler did have been relegated to meme status, and Hitler has been reduced to a caricature used to insult a political opponent. The labyrinth of unfair or inaccurate labels makes it increasingly probable that any accurate comparisons or warning calls will be lost in the maze or will fall on deaf or dismissive ears.

This probability is troubling because when warnings are issued based on past realities (in this case, realities of the early-to-mid 20^th century) it is in our best interests to heed them. This is, after all, part of the value of studying history—learning from the mistakes of the past and acting accordingly in the present and future. And when it comes to Nazi Germany, there is an important lesson to learn…

While Hitler is often associated with extreme racism resulting in the Holocaust, it should not be forgotten that the Holocaust wasn’t a spontaneous event, nor was Hitler ruling in a vacuum. Conditions were ripe in Germany following World War I for a National Socialist (Nazi) party to rise and take control. Not only had Germany lost what was then known as The Great War, leaving its land, population, and economy decimated, but also it was saddled with an unbearable war debt and its people insulted to the core by having the official blame for the war laid at their feet in the Treaty of Versailles’s War Guilt Clause.

It was in this climate of extreme dejection and hopelessness on every front that Hitler’s calls for a renewed nation-state rang out. By promising to step in and take control, he appealed to the people’s wounded nationalistic pride and desire for economic security. Never mind the fact that his promises were empty and his methods dictatorial; the people were willing to give him power because they were blinded by any number of things—fear, hatred, desire for comfort, etc.

Once the people viewed Hitler as their supreme leader and had given over control of nearly every element of their lives to the government, their minds were disarmed to the further, dangerous propaganda that flooded their lives and dehumanized significant portions of the population such as the Jews. Again preying on fear, hatred, and prejudices, Hitler and his underlings were able to brainwash the population into turning on their fellow man.

Instead of asking How could they do that? How could the people be that blind?, we would be wise to recognize that we are humans just as they were. We are susceptible to the same fears, the same desires for comfort and security, the same seeds of prejudice. And when things are going badly, we have the same longing for a savior.

So let us try to discern if the comparisons of modern figures or ideas to Hitler or Nazism are legitimate, and, if they are, to beware. Let us look back on the Nazi regime and take heed lest we lower our guard and give up our freedom. Let us root out any prejudice that might linger and grow into a monstrous weed. 

If there is fear or uncertainty, let us look to the One who holds each day for all eternity and who promises never to leave us. Let us turn to the only One who can change hearts and minds and can replace anger or apathy with a supernatural love. Let us turn from our wretched state to the spiritual blessings in Christ (Eph. 1), with full confidence that He will give us His strength to face whatever lies ahead.

Called to Compassion

Compassion. The American Heritage College Dictionary defines the word as, “Deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve it” (4^th ed., 292). It’s a quality often associated with Jesus, and rightly so. James 5:11 and Matthew 9:36 are just a couple of verses which speak to the compassion of Christ.

As followers of Jesus, it is understood that we are also to show compassion to others as He did. But do we really understand all of what that entails? It may be easy to show compassion when everything in our life is going well, when we don’t have burdens of our own, but is that the only time we are to show compassion?

An example from Jesus’s life strongly suggests the answer is ‘no’: 

“Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a desolate place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them and healed their sick” (Matthew 14:13-14, ESV).

This account is not very striking until we understand the context. What is the “this” that Jesus has just heard? We find the answer in verses 10-12:

“He [Herod] sent and had John beheaded in the prison, and his head was brought on a platter and given to the girl [Herodias’s daughter], and she brought it to her mother. And his disciples came and took the body and buried it, and they went and told Jesus.”

So Jesus has just heard that John the Baptist has been beheaded. Not only was John his cousin and friend, but he was also the one who prepared the way for Jesus and announced the beginning of His ministry. And now he is dead, not from natural causes but at the hand of a wicked ruler who entrapped himself with a foolish promise (see vv. 6-9). On top of that, John’s death wasn’t just prompted by revenge (see Mark 6:19, 24), but his head was paraded around as a trophy at a party.

With this backstory in view, we now have a fuller picture of Jesus’ mindset leading into verses 13-14. He is grieving, and He wants to be alone. As is often the way with crowds, however, they have little to no consideration for the emotional state of the one they seek. In fact, they are so determined to be near him, that they follow him all the way on foot.

And it is here, having His sorrowful solitude interrupted by throngs of people all wanting something from Him, that He shows compassion. He does not avoid the people or tell them to go away. He does not explain that He’s really not feeling up to being around people right now and just needs some “alone time.” He shows compassion. And he doesn’t just show it; He has it. He genuinely feels their suffering even in the midst of his own sorrow and takes action to relieve their pain.

This is the One we follow. This is the example we are to imitate. When we are consumed with our own sorrows, we are to break through the fog and see those hurting around us. When we are distracted by our own struggles, we are to turn our attention to those needing encouragement.

This is by no means an easy task. In actuality, it’s nigh impossible to do on our own. Left to our own designs, we will nurse our own wounds and persist in focusing on our own burdens without giving a thought to those who cross our path. We need Someone to help us, and that Someone is the Holy Spirit.

He can fill us with His compassion for others, so that it is not our own faltering love but His unwavering love that shines through. After all, love is part of the fruit that He gives us when we walk in Him. Let us pray, therefore, and ask Him to fill us to overflowing so that through us others may see and experience the compassion of Christ.

Photo Credit: Paulakay Hall

Lessons from Literature: Avoiding Defensiveness (Pride and Prejudice)

Have you ever wondered what makes some literature “classic”? Aside from purely literary criteria, I’d venture to guess that one quality of classic literature is its enduring message, i.e. its ability to transcend time and place with its treatment of human nature and its illumination of realities in the world around us.

If you’ve ever read a classic, then you likely know the moment of “Ah! Yes!” that comes from reading a sentence written hundreds of years ago yet delivering a message so relevant it could’ve been written yesterday. In short, there are loads of lessons to be learned from literature, and this post serves as the inaugural “Lessons from Literature” vignette. And who better to begin with than Jane Austen?

Unfortunately, Austen’s works are often pigeon-holed into the “chick-flick” category due to the romantic plot lines, but her novels are so incredibly deeper than boy-and-girl-meet-and-fall-in-love. Her understanding of humanity, of both the self and society, is so perceptive as to leave me shaking my head in amazement. In fact, when it comes to an Austen novel, I will actually mark in it as if it were a non-fiction book. Her insight is just that profound.

Perhaps this is why Dr. Richard Land, former president of the Southern Baptist Convention’s Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission, once told a young man who asked him for book recommendations to read all of Jane Austen’s novels. Dr. Land shared that he himself reads one a year until he reads them all then cycles through them again.

This year, as I’m participating in The Light Theater’s production of Pride and Prejudice (which you can learn about here), I’m on my second read-through of the 1813 novel and am enjoying it just as much as the first. One particular “light-bulb” moment came in Chapter 36 where Elizabeth Bennet is reading Mr. Darcy’s letter. . .

 **SPOILER ALERT—although if you haven’t read the novel, the following might whet your appetite!**

She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think without feeling that she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd.

“How despicably have I acted!” she cried; “I, who have prided myself on my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! Who have often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my vanity in useless or [blameable] distrust. How humiliating is this discovery! Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till this moment I never knew myself” (Austen, 162).

The context here is that Mr. Darcy has just enlightened Elizabeth to a series of circumstances of which she was completely unaware and which now have revealed that she has been harboring unjust opinions of not one but two men. Simply put, she was in the wrong, and she has just been awakened to the fact. Yet her response is striking.

Instead of shooting back arrows of defensiveness, she humbly allows the letter’s information to sink in and honestly assesses the influence it must now have on her perspective moving forward. Recognizing that the very attitude she thought was a virtue is instead a terrible vice, she becomes ashamed of her actions and confesses her error.

What a wonderful example! How often, when we are confronted with our own failings, do we bristle up and throw out a stream of excuses instead of responding with humble reflection and change? When others offer constructive criticism or when circumstances make apparent our weaknesses, what is our response? Hopefully, it is like that of Elizabeth’s.

I can’t help but see the parallels especially between the mode of revelation for Elizabeth and the one for greater humanity. Just as Mr. Darcy’s letter exposed Elizabeth’s misjudgment, so another letter exposes our depravity, i.e. the Bible, written to us from God to reveal Himself to us and show us our sinful nature and need for Him.  

The Word of God is like a sweeping spotlight and laser beam all in one, illuminating our lives and pinpointing where we fall short of holiness. It never fails to accomplish its work (see Isaiah 55:11), and we would be remiss to balk at the instruction it gives. Yes, the process will be painful, as confessing our own error often is; we will be able to say with Elizabeth, “How humiliating is this discovery!”

But if we follow her example and avoid defensiveness, we will also be able to utter with her, “Yet, how just a humiliation!” We will be able to allow the change to happen that needs to take place, and our lives will be the sweeter for it.

So when we read God’s Letter to us and are convicted, let us follow in Elizabeth Bennet’s footsteps and resist the urge to be defensive. Let us respond with humility, remembering the admonition, “My son, do not despise the LORD’s discipline or be weary of his reproof, for the LORD reproves him whom he loves, as a father the son in whom he delights” (Proverbs 3:11-12, ESV). And when we are confronted from any source with our own failings, let us heed the call, “Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the LORD, and turn away from evil” (Proverbs 3:7).

Citation: Austen, Jane. Pride and Prejudice. London: Penguin, 1994.

Confessions of an Only Child

In my twenty-four years as an only child, I’ve heard my share of…shall we say, interesting…comments. Many times people are curious about what it’s like to be an only child—and rightly so. There’s certainly a healthy level of curiosity involved in wanting to hear about someone else’s life experience. But many times the questions I’ve been asked when someone hears I’m an only child have been less-than-thoughtful. 

So for the sake of all the other only children out there, and in the interest of helping everyone else avoid creating an embarrassing situation, I thought I’d share a few things that probably shouldn’t be said to an only child.

“So are you spoiled?”

This has to be one of the most common stereotypes of only children—and one of the most frustrating. First of all, spoiled people usually don’t realize they’re spoiled, so asking that question is rather unproductive. Of course, there’s always the declarative form of this sentiment, as well: “I bet you’re spoiled.”

Umm… thank you? I mean, really—what’s an only child to say to that?

Yes? No? I don’t know?  

Usually the “spoiled” question begs another question: What do you mean by spoiled? If you mean getting to spend a lot of time with my parents and having a really close relationship with them, then yeah, I guess I am. But if you mean always getting what I want, having my parents bow to my every whim, etc., then I am most definitely not spoiled.

On my more snarky days, I have been known to respond to this question with, “Spoiled? No way—I’m the only one to do the chores!” [Confession—we didn’t have “chores” per say, but the basic principle is still the same. Whenever my parents needed help, I was the only option.]

Of course, there probably are spoiled only children out there, just like there are spoiled youngest, middle, and oldest children too. But the point is, it’s not very wise to assume someone is spoiled just because of their birth order, nor is it polite to confront them with such an assumption, even if uttered jokingly. Just like everyone else, only children appreciate people getting to know them before making assumptions about their lives.

“Oh, your parents got lucky with you and didn’t need any more, huh?”

Again, what’s an only child to say to that? I think most people, especially older children/young adults, have a pretty good understanding that they’re not this perfect little angel. So, aside from being confusing, this question raises a whole host of other presuppositions that can introduce some troubling subliminal messages into the mind of an only child—particularly a young one.

Take my case for instance. I’d heard this assertion countless times, never knowing how to respond. Then, at age ten, I found out I was going to be a big sister. Now just think, if I had bought into the idea that my parents hadn’t had any more kids because I was sufficient, then what was I to think when there was going to be a new baby in the family? That somehow I wasn’t enough for them? That I wasn’t good enough, so they had to try again?

Of course, I know these are utter lies. But that just goes to show that the idea that an only child is an only child because he or she is sufficient to satisfy his or her parents is a dangerous one to plant in only children’s minds, especially since they very well could have lost a sibling, like me. Plus, on the other hand, the idea could easily lead to a wrongly-inflated ego if the only child hasn’t lost any siblings.

A good principle to remember here is that we often are not privy to people’s backstories; therefore our understanding of their situation might be totally inaccurate, and filtering our comments would be wise.

“Are your parents trying for more kids?”

*…crickets…*

This one is just down-right awkward—not to mention terribly confusing for the younger members of the only child club. And, yes, I have been asked this before.

First of all, asking a child about his or her parents’ sex life is embarrassing for the child and invasive for the parents. But also, like the previous question, this one can lead to some serious doubt when it comes to self-worth. The implication, particularly when coupled with the “you’re good enough” idea, is that if the answer is yes, then something must be wrong with the only child.

If the answer is no, the next question becomes “Why not?” Again, awkward and invasive.

But there’s a third possible answer to this question that many either seem to be ignorant of or to brush off casually, and it’s an answer accompanied by considerable pain.

When I was asked this question, it was after our family had lost my little sibling. So my family had been blessed with another child, but the Lord saw fit to take him or her from us before birth. Thus, this question was a potent reminder of who we had lost, and the person who asked me understandably seemed embarrassed and apologetic for her thoughtlessness when I told her about the miscarriage.

Here again, the principle applies: we never know what we don’t know about a person’s story.

So my challenge to you today is to be thoughtful in your curiosity. Instead of the questions above, ask things such as “Did you like being an only child? Were you ever lonely? What did you enjoy about being an only child? What has being an only child taught you about relationships and about life? How do you think being an only child has shaped the kind of person you are today?” Questions such as these convey real interest in an individual’s life as well as recognition that people are unique and can’t be pigeonholed into neat little boxes.

When you talk to only children from this thoughtful posture, instead of receiving blank stares, stuttering hesitations, or snarky responses, you might open up a world of delightful, interesting conversation. And who knows—you just might make a new friend. 

The Law: God's Love in Disguise

Oftentimes in discussions about the Bible or God there emerges a dichotomy between the Old and New Testaments—the idea that the two somehow reveal a “different” God or at least a different side of Him. This contrast is often expressed as Law vs. Love or Judgment vs. Grace with the former term being associated with the Old Testament and the latter with the New.

Yet while it is true that the judgment of God is more obvious in the Old Testament (wholesale destruction of peoples, plagues, etc.), does it follow that the love of God is absent? I don’t think so. In fact, there are abounding examples of God’s love in the Old Testament, beginning with the promise of a Savior to reverse the curse in Genesis 3. But I believe one of the more overlooked exhibitions of divine love actually can be found in the Law itself.

To fully grasp this notion, it is helpful to understand the culture of the Ancient Near East, i.e. of the Israelites’ contemporaries. Immersed in a worldview with numerous gods, the people of Mesopotamia were forever concerned with appeasing their capricious deities. The purpose of their existence was to make sure the gods were happy, yet they could never truly know what it would take to guarantee favor from the gods. Thus, they were enslaved to the whims of those they worshiped.

Enter Yahweh, the God of the Bible. Not only does He condescend to commune with the people of Israel, but also He lays out specifically what His standards are, both in speech and in writing (See Deuteronomy 5:22). Instead of leaving His people to wonder what is required of them, He tells them plainly and to their face.

“For this commandment that I command you today is not too hard for you, neither is it far off. It is not in heaven, that you should say, ‘Who will ascend to heaven for us and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it?’ Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, ‘Who will go over the sea for us and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it?’ But the word is very near you. It is in your mouth and in your heart so that you can do it. See, I have set before you today life and good, death and evil” (Deuteronomy 30:11-15, ESV).  

In other words, God made the law accessible to them when He certainly didn’t have to, and He gave them a clear choice instead of leaving them to guess their fate. That seems pretty loving to me. But it doesn’t stop there.

As it readily became apparent, God’s standard of keeping the Law and “turn[ing] to the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul” was nigh impossible to keep without some kind of outside intervention (Deut. 30:10). Try as they might, the Israelites could not meet the requirements of a holy God, for their hearts were bent toward rebellion and hardened in apathy.

The Law thus became a constant reminder of the people’s need for help. As Paul wrote in Romans 7:7 and 3:20, “Yet if it had not been for the law, I would not have known sin,” for “through the law comes knowledge of sin.” Without God’s provision of the Law, His people would not have been even cognizant of the fact that they were destined for eternal separation from Him! So in communicating the Law, God demonstrated His love by waking His people up to the fact that their souls were in dire straits. But again, it doesn’t stop there.

Yahweh, having revealed His standard and having shown His people their inability to live up to it, then promised a solution: “And I will give them one heart, and a new spirit I will put within them. I will remove the heart of stone from their flesh and give them a heart of flesh, that they may walk in my statutes and keep my rules and obey them. And they shall be my people, and I will be their God” (Ezekiel 11:19-20, ESV).  

This promise was fulfilled in the person of Jesus Christ, who is God Himself and became a human in order to live the life that none of them could—a life that perfectly met God’s standard. And having lived that perfect life, He—a completely innocent man—sacrificed Himself, taking the full force of God’s judgment that was due all those who had fallen short of the standard.

Then, after satisfying God’s wrath with the spilling of His innocent blood, He rose from the dead to be received by God the Father in glory and to provide the opportunity for the Israelites to take His righteousness from His perfect life upon themselves. By acknowledging their failure to meet God’s standard, i.e. to obey His Law, by turning from their selfish, prideful way, and by trusting in Christ’s life, death, and resurrection to be sufficient for their salvation, they would receive, by the power of the Holy Spirit, that new heart that made it possible to live according to God’s will.

So the God of the Bible (the Old Testament and the New), showed His love by revealing His Law, illuminating the state of the people’s souls, and providing a way for His standard to be met once and for all. But what’s even more staggering than that is the realization that this love was not limited to God’s chosen people of Israel.

This same Law has been revealed to us, still effectively showing us the condition of our souls. And the standard-meeting, wrath-appeasing sacrifice of Christ is efficient for our salvation just as it was for those in biblical times who believed. 

What a matchless love! Have you experienced it for yourself?

To read the Arabic translation of this post, click here.

لقراءة الترجمة العربية لهذا المنشور إضغط هنا.

The Danger of Bringing a Facebook Mentality to the Word of God

Today I thought I'd share a post I wrote on Facebook over a year ago. It's a reminder I need daily, and I hope it challenges and encourages you to sit and soak in the Word for a while. Then, having been filled up, you can go and be squeezed out for the sake of the gospel. May the Lord work in your heart and mind as you encounter Him through His Word.

We’ve all been there.  Scrolling down through our newsfeed at breakneck speed, our eye having been trained to pick up only what we believe is of the most significance or interest to us.  As our “friends” multiply and our feed ever expands, we somehow feel this sprint through the flurry of posts is helping us save time.  After all, if we were to actually read (not to mention digest) every single post we’d forever be glued to the screen! 

In the Facebook world, running through the newsfeed is okay.  Facebook is a creation of man largely filled with postings that serve man’s own purposes. But how often do we take our Facebook mentality and bring it with us to the Word of God? 

We have so trained our attention span to be split-second that we breeze through passages in the Bible without giving them a second thought—perhaps even without actually knowing what we just read in the first place.  And as we sprint through the verses, we stop only when we pick up on what we believe to be significant or interesting to us personally.  

But the Bible is not a creation of man, to be used by man for his own purposes.  The Bible is the Word of the Most High God, the message God sends to us as humankind, and its message is as current as the Facebook post from “just now.”

So my challenge to us is this:  Stop bringing a Facebook mentality to the Word of God. 

Slow down. 

Resist the default of sprinting through chapters without asking God what He wants to teach us—about Himself, about ourselves, about the world around us.  Push ourselves to start digging deep, even in passages that don’t seem relevant to us at the time.

Read the Bible—every part of it—as if it is of the utmost significance.  Because it is.

To read the Arabic translation of this post, click here.

.لقراءة الترجمة العربية لهذا المنشور إضغط هنا

Overwhelmed

Morning brings conversation with a hurting friend; later in the day the headlines convey distressing news locally, nationally, and internationally; evening at church begins with requests for prayer from the faith family, burdened for their loved ones and for the lost, representing yet another circle of struggling people. By bedtime, there hasn’t even been time to think about personal troubles.

Have you ever experienced a day like that? A day where you are met at every turn with more problems than you can help, more needs than you can meet, more hurting than you can heal? I know I have. And unless we are as hardened as a rock, it becomes difficult not to be affected by all that pain.

On a large scale we face famine, war, genocide, orphan crises, human trafficking, natural disasters, and disease. Then there are elections, legislation, court rulings, local crime, and violence. Closer to home, we may face embittered relationships, financial struggles, health issues, and workplace stress. And then, there are the ever-present multitudes of souls who are living day-in and day-out without the hope of Jesus.

Feeling overwhelmed yet?

As Christians, we are called to care. We are called to be compassionate, i.e. to be “with suffering” (Butterfield, 144). But we are also finite in our time, our energy, our strength, and our emotional capacity. The more suffering we observe and/or experience, the easier it is to try to block it all out, to ignore the pain—because how are we ever to deal with it all? And yet we are still called to care.

So how do we keep the crushing weight of all this hurt from paralyzing us?

     How do we manage to minister to the hurting without drowning in the sea of suffering ourselves?

          How do we bear the burdens of the whole world?

Simply put, we can’t.  But, thank God, we don’t have to.

You see, we were not designed to bear those burdens. We were not created with the capacity to carry the pain of the entire world. You think the suffering we see is overwhelming? Imagine how much more we don’t even know about!

Now think about the fact that God knows it all. Every tear that falls, every scream that pierces the air, every prayer for help that is uttered—He hears them. Can you imagine how oppressive that weight would be?

But that’s just it! It’s not oppressive to Him! It doesn’t overwhelm Him because He is infinite in power and wisdom. He is not confined to space and time. He is more than strong enough to bear the burden. David Platt says it best: “He alone has the emotional framework to perceive the world as he perceives it” (Platt, 251). That’s enough to overwhelm us in a totally different vein! Where we are impotent, He is able.

So when we start to feel overwhelmed by the pain we meet every day, know that we don’t have to carry it all. We can roll that burden off our backs and rest it at the foot of the throne of grace. And leaving it there in the arms of the Infinite God, we can rise to meet the suffering souls that He has caused to cross our paths. We can show them the love of Christ by giving what we have of our time and resources and by covering the entire interaction with prayer.

And as we do so, we can worship because the more we are met with hardship and pain the more we see God’s compassion and strength. Let us praise the almighty God who bears the burdens of the world and whose power is none depleted for it.

See the Arabic translation of this post here.

لقراءة الترجمة العربية لهذا المنشور إضغط هنا.

Citations:

- Butterfield, Rosaria Champagne. The Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert. Pittsburgh: Crown & Covenant Publications, 2012.

- Platt, David. Counter Culture: A Compassionate Call to Counter Culture in a World of Poverty, Same-Sex Marriage, Racism, Sex Slavery, Immigration, Persecution, Abortion, Orphans, Pornography. Carol Stream, Ill.: Tyndale House, 2015.