When you look closely at the first few verses of Philippians, something quite unique stands out fairly quickly:
Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus,
To all the saints in Christ Jesus who are in Philippi, with the bishops and deacons.
You’ll notice that Paul does not refer to himself as an apostle.
We have a hungry prophet (Elijah) on assignment to stretch the faith of a widow woman on welfare and to add insult to injury she has just lost her son.
I stop by to tell somebody when you are dealing with a dead situation you have to expect the unexpected, process your pain, and trust the process.
What would you give your life for? Your kids? Your spouse? Your family? Would you give your life for people you don’t know? People forced into prostitution in Bangalore, or unborn babies? Would you give your life for the Church? Paul tells us Jesus gave his life for just this thing. Jesus gave his life for the Church. More precisely, Jesus
Here’s a news flash – the word “evangelism” is emotionally, historically, and theologically charged.
Cognitive dissonance is especially challenging in evangelism. We’re tempted to find ways to reduce the divergences between the Gospel and our culture, to change our message so it’s more palatable to the society in which we live, to accommodate it to the “wisdom of the world.”
The more I read those words and reflected on Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 25 the more it struck me that the Seven Works of Corporal Mercy are not an anachronistic relic of the Medieval church but constitute a very effective evaluation tool for the contemporary church.
The history of heresy in the first few centuries of Christian faith is fascinating as the church slowly and methodically made choices about the core tenets of Christianity.
And that’s the key. It was a process of choice – hairesis.
I really do love the book of Proverbs. There’s just some really good stuff within this great book: wisdom that can help us live our lives in ways that are just so powerful and so good. Ways that are just so true. Listen to what we are told today in Proverbs 21: 1-2: 1 A good name is to be chosen
United Methodists and many others followed the 2016 General Conference in Portland with fervent interest. Whether you watched live streaming (a primer in do’s and don’ts of parliamentary procedure), caught a few random comments on social networks or read daily summaries from the United Methodist News Service or the UM Reporter, by now there are a lot of perspectives on
Because as comforting as it is to know that I stand in a long line of mothers without children, ultimately their stories of temporary infertility are not helpful. I have prayed until I looked drunk. Nothing. My husband has prayed on my behalf. Still nothing.
This is not an anti-technology diatribe. There are enough diatribes in the world, I think: talking heads, Facebook rants, raised fists and honking horns etching anger for a permanent moment of rush hour that hangs now in the universe reflecting our contorted faces back to us. What if I died in that moment? The moment of my life when my
God’s word is better delivered in obscurity than by celebrity. The greatest impact usually happens when no one notices.
It’s a mistake to criticize questioning by and in itself. An unexamined life is not worth living, and an unexamined faith will last about as long as Farrah Fawcett hair, Hammer pants, beanie babies, MySpace, “Gangnam Style” and every other grass that withers and flower that doth fade away.
Beginning at the point of our believing that it is God’s desire to forgive, confession becomes not a morbid discipline, not a dark groveling in the mud and mire of life, not a fearful response to a wrathful, angry God who is out to get us if we don’t shape up. Rather, confession becomes an act of anticipation, a response
New is unknown, and often we are afraid of the “what if” questions in our lives. But new is happening every day.
It began with Jesus, who invited twelve guys to quit their day jobs and enroll in a three-year intensive, seminary-level program. By following Jesus, these guys learned Hebrew Bible, pastoral care, prayer and healing, theology, missions and evangelism, preaching and economics. At the end of three years, Jesus declared them ready (in fact, he called them his peers) and commissioned
When we refuse to be silent we are saying that we have nothing left to learn or that God has nothing left to say to us.
By the time most of us get to be adults, we have accumulated a great deal of stuff. We’ve learned so many wrong things, stored up so much misinformation, learned to respond in so many destructive ways, adopted all the biting, snarling, snippy styles of relating, become secretive and cynical. We carry a lot of stuff around, and it burdens
Have you ever had a near-drowning experience? I have. I don’t remember when, but I’d guess I was between the ages of seven and nine. I don’t remember the circumstances, except that I was in over my head. Literally. What I can remember is the feeling of not being able to breathe and the panic that completely took over any
I’m learning what pastors around the globe know so well: that Christmas Is Different For Pastors. The same truth reverberates – Emmanuel, God With Us. It has, however, sunk in that this year I work Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and not only work, but serve to fashion a threshold between tired hungry human hearts and the Trinity. The Advent
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