What does Dane Ortlund mean by “real” sinners—are there other options? The introduction explains that Deeper is about spiritual growth, written for Christians who recognize their ongoing neediness and sin, as opposed to “theoretical sinners” content with behavior modification. “If you confess the doctrine of original sin but at the same time feel yourself to be doing pretty well as a Christian, you can put this book back on the shelf.  [If you]…find yourself proving the doctrine of original sin in your daily life, this book is for you.” (18)

Believers disagree on whether spiritual maturity comes about primarily through improved behavior, doctrinal understanding, or felt experience.  Ortlund argues that we need all three, and to miss one or more will result in stunted development.  Yet genuine spiritual growth transcends them all, resulting as it does from “the life of God in the soul of man” (the title of a book, written first as a letter to a discouraged 1600s Christian.)  If that phrase mystifies you, read on.

Deeper has nine chapters of reasonable length with simple one-word titles. “Jesus” comes first: since Christian growth means becoming like Christ, we should know what He is like.  Too many believers assume knowledge of Jesus but have a perspective that is “downsized” and “reduced” and tends toward seeing Him as “manageable…predictable…decaffeinated…domesticated.” (21-23)  Our current understanding of Jesus is very likely the tip of an iceberg, and we should hunger to learn more.

Seven potentially underexplored facets of Jesus’ work are ruling, saving, befriending, persevering, interceding, returning, and tenderness.  Saving, persevering, and interceding are probably the most misunderstood by theoretical sinners.  Ortlund restates Gal. 3:3, “…do we functionally believe that the healthy Christian life is…a matter of our efforts, baptized with a little push from Jesus?” and answers with Heb. 7:25: believers need Christ’s ongoing intercessory work because we continue to sin. (25-31)

“Despair” comes from realizing that we are unable to change or sanctify ourselves, but chapters on union, embrace, and acquittal follow with reassurance.  The NT refers to union with Christ over two hundred times, both in the “macro” federal sense (our destiny and identity is in Him) and the “micro” personal sense (we are like parts of the same body, or branches connected to a vine).   Far from holding Himself aloof, God embraces and welcomes us. And it is experiencing His love and forgiveness, rather than a sense of duty, that “uglifies sin in our eyes and beautifies righteousness” (77) —a solid whack to the idea that without behavioral rules, Christians will live lives of unbridled sin.    

Ortlund says that understanding justification and sanctification is crucial to addressing that concern.  Justification is a one-time event, “the verdict of legal acquittal,” while sanctification is lifelong growth in grace. (86)  Two statements summarize the connection: “Justification is outside-in, and we lose it if we make it inside-out.  Sanctification is inside-out, and we lose it if we make it outside-in.”  (This discussion alone is worth the price of the book.)  Christians frequently mistake the gospel for just the entrance into the Christian life.  Thinking that performance strengthens our standing with God after that makes it easy to miss the surprising final sin in the NT’s most thorough last-days’ vice list (2 Tim. 3:2-5). 

“Honesty” also proved a compelling subject: not just telling the truth but “walking in the light,” which Ortlund defines as “cheerfully bringing [our] failures out from the darkness of secrecy into the light,” where they wither and die. (114) Why are we so reluctant to regularly confess our sins to other Christians?  We instinctively resist the “death” of our impressive fronts.  We fear that if we expose our sin, others will hold us to a timetable of progress—and while this is a real possibility, Ortlund points out that God does not treat us that way. Redemptive vulnerability brings not only forgiveness from God but also abundant, joyful increase in community with each other.

And there is more. Bible reading and prayer are likened to “Breathing” (inhale and exhale).  “Pain” is God’s “terrible resource” to detach us from worldly comforts.  “Supernaturalized” shows true apostolic Christianity as Holy-Spirit-powered growth in knowledge of Jesus.  The conclusion, “What Now?” reiterates Deeper’s purpose: not nine different strategies for growth but encouragement to look to Jesus.  (“Other books will be needed to supplement this, but they are downstream…” [173]) 

In a culture of loud, angry polemics over political, medical, doctrinal, and theological differences; of arguments and personal attacks on social media, in congregational meetings, and family discussions; Deeper is a voice of quiet reason, urging us to consider ideas of essential importance to the Christian faith.  Some of the same subjects will be discussed, but denominational axes to grind and chips on shoulders are notably absent.  Instead, I often thought as I read, “That sounds just like [a scripture passage].”  (😊 Incredibly, COVID is not mentioned at all.)  To borrow a grammatically improper emphatic from modern syntax, this is a Very. Good. Book.