Last year, Pastor Nate outlined three key strategies for overcoming sin—gospel, community, and behavior—in his article, “What Should I Do if My Husband is Addicted to Pornography?” This summer, I saw these principles in action as I led a group of men through Finally Free: Fighting for Purity with the Power of Grace. By applying these strategies, the men made significant progress and have remained porn-free for over three months.

Editor's note: To mark the end of Dr. Rob Rayburn’s “My Life in Great Books” series, we thought it fitting to compile a comprehensive list of his recommendations—all 152 of them. Dr. Rayburn is arguably the most well-read minister in our presbytery, and anyone who has had the privilege of hearing him preach or lecture can attest to his vast knowledge. If he recommends a book, you can be sure it’s worth your time. Why not print out this list and start working your way through it?

Through the years, I have thought about what books would sit on my bedside table as I came to die, added books to my list or subtracted them, and then, in the providence of God, had the opportunity to put my choices to use.

Other Christian traditions have also produced enormous libraries of Christian books, and it shouldn’t surprise us that some very special and valuable books will be found where Presbyterians would be unlikely to go looking.

In reflecting on what it means to be a gospel-centered church, the question arises: does spiritual maturity involve moving beyond the gospel, or is the gospel integral to every stage of our faith journey? It could seem that maturity means shifting focus from the gospel to the law. But is that true? As Tim Keller famously said, “The gospel is not just the ABCs of the Christian life but the A to Z of Christianity.” This article builds on earlier discussions and seeks to explore the profound ways in which the gospel remains foundational—not just at the beginning, but throughout the entire journey of faith.

We live in a culture that doesn’t sing. Our culture listens (quite a lot) to other professionals who sing. But for most cultures in history, singing was an activity for common people. And certainly throughout the Bible, singing is crucial to a life lived to God’s glory. 

Since our founding our church has been, and continues to be, a gospel-centered church. We believe the gospel alone has the power to make us into a people of joy, freedom, and righteousness. But the gospel-centered movement has received some criticism of late—namely, that since its constant aim is to motivate the Christian life by God’s grace, it can at times fail to give practical instructions to believers about how to live as a Christian.

Paul commands us to “be at peace among yourselves” (v. 13). In a sermon I gave a few weeks ago on 1 Thessalonians 5:12-28, I discussed how this command relates to avoiding unnecessary burdens on your leadership by not quarreling with each other. I'd like to offer further explanation to clarify what I mean.

Dispensationalism arose within the last 150 years; it is a system of interpretation for reading and understanding the Bible. Central to its uniqueness is its separation of Israel and the church: that God has a different plan for salvation for ethnic Israel (the Jewish people) and the Christian church. 

How to maintain the best of Presbyterianism’s standard of thoughtful, learned preaching and teaching while reaching an increasingly diverse culture is one great challenge facing our church today.

The office in its New Testament form was recovered to the church at the Reformation but has had a spotty history since. The church has sometimes valued the office and profited greatly from its ministry. At other times, the office has once again virtually disappeared.

No matter that certain principles are held in common, all Presbyterian churches do not practice precisely the same church government, and some of these differences are substantial. These distinctive features derive from the different history of the churches, as well as their different political and social environments.