“Tony, say something. Use your voice to say something.” That was my professor’s way of telling me, Tony, your thesis is boring. He didn’t have a problem with my topic or argumentation. Rather, he and I both believed that the research I had conducted and the conclusions I had drawn were of grave contemporary consequence. But my thesis, he argued, needed teeth. “God gave you a voice for a reason, Tony. Say something that matters, and say it directly.”
Before moving to South Carolina, I managed a website much like this one for over a decade. There, I opined regularly on topics related to Christian ministry, Christian counseling, theology, culture, leadership, and denominational life. But when God called me to a leadership position in a state where I had no earned relational or leadership equity, I thought it best to just listen for a while. So, I deleted my website and its content to give myself over to exactly that: a season of listening. Ancient wisdom celebrates the disciplined rhythm: “There is an occasion for everything, and a time for every activity under heaven . . . a time to be silent and a time to speak,” (Ecc. 3:1, 7, CSB).
I have learned much over these past few years of sabbatical silence. I’ve heard ministry leaders relegate biblical depth to trendy platitudes. I’ve watched Christian figures bow to political pressures. I’ve lamented a destructive rage rhetoric taking root in the fertile soils of political and denominational dissatisfactions. I’ve heard the confused cries of a godless culture spiraling down the abyss of expressive individualism and relative morality, unsuspecting victims of their own delusive degradations.
However, not all I’ve heard and seen is negative. Shimmers of hope gleam beneath the moral fog as the morning sun rises on the third millennium’s second quarter-century. I see a generation ascending who commit wholeheartedly to what they believe; they are globally conscious, spiritually hungry, and magnetically attracted to authenticity. I hear whispers of reason’s return in professional fields, recognizing the foreboding depravity of our recent, very unscientific social experiments. Truth is alarming. Reason is inviting. Wisdom is calling. And I believe sincerely that ears are attuning.
With this conviction I reenter the space of public thinking today, with great anticipation. I believe the Lord has released me from my “time to be silent,” and I am compelled–driven–toward a renewed “time to speak.” I come to this space a more listened learner, a more experienced leader, and a more convictional commentator. Today, after much prayer and silence, and with much hope for meaningful engagement, I announce the launch of this website and its companion podcast, “Wisdom Calling.”
You can find me here, at the intersection of theology, culture, and leadership, engaging matters of contemporary consequence by turning up the volume on ancient wisdom that drowns out the noise of passing moments. I come here to speak again. But as my words mind the gap between me and you, listener, I pray the voice that rings in your ears and lives in your memory is much more established, much more authoritative, much more consequential, than mine.
“Wisdom has built her house . . . She calls out from the highest points of the city: ‘Whoever is inexperienced, enter here!’ To the one who lacks sense, she says, ‘Come, eat my bread and drink the wine I have mixed. Leave inexperience behind, and you will live; pursue the way of understanding.’”
(Prov. 9:1–6, CSB)
I invite you to subscribe to this website and share these posts with your friends. Also, subscribe to the “Wisdom Calling” podcast on Youtube, Apple Podcasts, or your favorite podcast catcher.
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