The story isn’t answering the question, “Who is my neighbor?” It’s a well-crafted invitation to an identity crisis.
The story isn’t answering the question, “Who is my neighbor?” It’s a well-crafted invitation to an identity crisis.
We tend to think about wilderness as a place, but a shack is a visible reminder that wilderness is a force, always pushing back against order and security.
Even in the moments when I stand behind the pulpit asking for funds, like Paul I already know my church is eager to help.
With young people, church can feel like a boat full of small holes and slow leaks. When bailing isn’t working, and you are taking on water, it’s tempting to give up.
Is it good or bad to be mad? It’s bad, right? Anger is bad. Always. Paul says, “Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice” (Eph 4:31).
The very people who have the greatest possibility of being close to us are the ones we are most likely to envy.
John is saying that Jesus has always been the plan. Jesus has always been what God is saying.
Being a dad is hard. With two sons, and a third on the way, I’m learning daily just how hard this calling is.
If you’ve been through an elder selection process recently, I suspect you heard one word more than any other: “No.”
Domestic violence is on the church’s radar. Perhaps this is due to the cultural moment we are living in, increased reporting from victims, or the work of the Holy Spirit.
It is a profound thought. The notion that our God is capable of creating a new world. Of calling into being things that were not.
What matters most is that the ones pointing our churches to the spring of living water, are drinking deeply from it themselves.
There are many reasons for church attendance most are there because the language the world is speaking is not making sense to them.
Salvation is a way; along that path the very character of God is sprouting up—love, faithfulness, righteousness, and peace.
You are the ones who often find yourselves on the frontlines of ministry, navigating tricky pastoral issues, coordinating care, and offering compassion.
When we encounter those situations that we cannot control, instead of getting angry, we should examine why our lack of control troubles us.
It’s not the feet of Jesus crushing Satan this time. It’s “your” feet. Our feet. The feet of all those in that church directory. The feet of those sitting beside you on Sunday morning.
“Don’t cry for me at my funeral, pal, because I’ll be crying for you poor schmoes,” Joe said. Like Paul, this was a man who knew it was “better by far” to go on and be with Christ.
God uses truly “beautiful” people from time to time, to hold up the mirror, show us our own ugliness, and save us from ourselves. Thank you, Lord.
When your heart hurts, to whom will you turn? When this isn’t working anymore (whatever this is), to whom will your heart lead you?