Samson and the Pirate Monks

I even worked on shaking up my religion a bit, making an effort to talk to God without using Christian buzzwords and listening for his voice in everyday conversations, including conversations with people whose religious credentials were questionable. I also picked up a copy of The Message (NavPress 1995), the popular paraphrase of the Bible written

now believe that David recovered because he could, and Samson didn’t recover because he couldn’t. David recovered because he had learned to do the things that make recovery possible. Samson never learned to do those things.

I was present at the very first meeting of the Society, and it was great. But as the weeks passed, I kept waiting for the elders to burst into the room some Monday night screaming, “We cannot allow this much honesty within the church!” How refreshing it was to have a safe place within my community of faith.

Considering Paul’s problem and God’s response, I was suddenly struck by the possibility that God’s apparent inaction in a painful area of my life might have been deliberate. Maybe, just maybe, God knew I needed that problem. He hadn’t afflicted me with it, that was clear, but maybe he loved me too much to take it away. Maybe that problem was the on

Yes, it is true, he said, that God wants men of integrity. But integrity is not perfection. It is not completion. It is not even purity of intention, something that, frankly, we are all incapable of achieving. Rather, integrity is a combination of rigorous honesty about my own condition and humble faith in the steadfast love of God.

They have also made me a better doctor. In medical school I was taught to examine bodies and diagnose diseases, but in the Samson Society I have learned to sit with people and listen to their stories. I have learned that it is often in our stories that the roots of our diseases can be found. The Samson Society has taught me to see every one of my p

My recent life journey has taught me that the expanding life of Christian liberty, the ongoing process of emancipation that the Bible calls sanctification, is not a death march to holiness. No, it’s a dance—a beautiful and intoxicating dance that God leads. For people who are accustomed to marching, the rhythm of the dance feels very awkward at fir

My friends tell me something different. They remind me that I am merely part of a team. I am unique, they say, but only in the way that every snowflake is unique. We are different, but not easily distinguished. We are all composed of the same stuff. We all fall to the ground, and we achieve our most captivating beauty in community.

My weekly schedule includes several standing appointments with other men I’ve grown to trust over the last few years. We’ll meet for coffee or a sandwich at our regular time, and after a little small talk we’ll get down to sharing what’s really going on in our personal lives. These guys know my story, and I know theirs. We have spent so much time l