I wake up on a Saturday morning. It’s a beautiful day. The sun is out and flowers are in bloom. Should I go to the zoo and watch the animals, or would I rather work in my garden? Am I even free to decide? Most people would say, “Yes, of course you are free to decide.” And I am. In
Beyond any book review or helpful ministry-related text I could recommend as a “must-read,” I would encourage you to pull a book off the shelf that has nothing to do with church, leadership, preaching, management, or finance. Let grace, beauty, and truth be revealed to you from the words of those who wish to tell a story, paint a picture
And so we pray today for our some day ending, for the will to keep on working, descending and ascending…
I’m tired of the struggle. I ask my 14-year-old to clean his room…again…knowing that there is no good reason I should have to tell him constantly to actually put his clothes IN the hamper, instead of AROUND the hamper. “Clean” is subjective, and our definitions clash. This is new to me, as my firstborn is not quite as laid back
Christian worship, whether expressed in the sacrament of Holy Communion, or in classic hymnody, is premised on gratitude for an act of sacrificial love that Muslims reject by virtue of denying not only the incarnation, but even that Jesus died on the cross. These distinctively Christian beliefs not only inspire Christian worship and devotion, but also define its content.
Yet day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, and decade after decade, Jeremiah persistently did what God had called him to do. He didn’t give up, he didn’t move to a city where people were more responsive, he didn’t modify his message, he persistently carried on doing what God had called on him to do.
“Unified and fearless, we charge ahead into a fun and adventurous life as a family. We are kind-hearted and fervently loving toward each other. We serve others to enrich their lives. Jesus is our strength and our song.” – The Jones Family Mission Statement A year and a half ago I felt kicked in the gut. A dear friend’s sister-in-law
We would do well to recall – especially in these days after Christmas – that the Gospels tell us about Jesus as a refugee child, whose family was forced to flee to Egypt to escape the wrath of a murderous monarch.
It’s my (not unkindly meant) guess that tomorrow’s slew of sermons across North America and probably other parts of the world are, in the main, fairly predictable: having grown up as a pastor’s kid, a pastor’s grandkid, pastors’ niece, now pastor’s daughter-in-law, and having preached three years myself, along with having a great number of valued friends in ministry –
Chances are, you or someone you know gave or received a coloring book for adults in the last year. With titles as catchy as “Color Me Stress Free” or “The Art of Relaxation,” the coloring craze has swept the nation. Whether the book contains images of floral gardens, mandalas or other graphic patterns, the idea behind coloring therapy is to
“Jesus has a body but the Father and Spirit do not. Discuss.” One of my acquaintances posted this on social networking recently, provoking a number of responses. One person wondered if Christ had always had physical form. The discussion spun and doubled back, spiraled and swung. And, as it happens, it matters. Frequently theology – especially Trinitarian theology – is
Yet another acquaintance lost his life to depression over the holidays. Such loss leaves everyone devastated on multiple levels. When devastations like suicide drop into our lives, we’re left with far more questions than answers, not to mention the guilt and so often, such a sense of powerlessness. Stretching to make sense of a tragic event, we tend to grab
God’s preferred method of interacting with us is to use particular people at particular times, usually to deliver a particular message.
Every month, on the day the gate opens, the Methodist Church is present – on both sides of the wall. There is conversation. There is prayer.
And there is Holy Communion.
We had a funny moment here in our house the other night. My oldest was filling out a form to take the ACT in the coming weeks. She’s only in the 7th grade, but I like that they start taking it early. She was filling out the form and she called me into the living room. When I got there, she
I doubt there is a more used and less understood word in the contemporary church than “missional.” Missional is not about being better at being Kodak in a digital photograph world.
And everything that is hurt, everything
That seemed to us dark, harsh, shameful,
Maimed, ugly, irreparably damaged
Is in Him transformed.
The question remains. Do we really know the High God? How would our lives change if we really understood the fact that the God made real in Jesus Christ – the God of the world – loves each tribe and nation equally? How would that understanding change how we looked at other tribes and clans – even in our own
J. C. Albert has to be one of the greatest followers of Jesus I’ve ever met. I met him in India in 2012. He was the most open, loving, friendly guy and he had these wonderful stories to tell of adventures with Jesus. He has visited and shared the good news of Jesus Christ in nearly 3,000 tribal villages in
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