Leaders lust for it. People are impressed by it. And others are dominated by it.
Military might. Political position. Economic Status. Physical strength. All are symbols of power.
The power in Jesus’ day resided in Rome. Everyone knew it. Their empirical rule reached across the known world. The power was evident in their army. Their outposts of culture. Their massive building programs. Their roads. And, of course, their ruler. Pontifex Maximus. Continue reading
Steve Shepherd tells about a fellow who was answering questions for a national poll. When asked for his church preference, he responded, “Redbrick.”
Some time ago in a door-to-door survey, a suburban Chicago church asked people in their community, “If you don’t go to church, why? Continue reading
Today Norma Jean and I are in Cedarville, Michigan, enjoying a bit of R&R in a rustic cabin by Lake Huron.
We expect this morning will be one of the highlights of our trip to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. No, not a tour of Mackinac Island. No, not seeing the cargo ships go through the locks at Sault Ste Marie. No, not a drive to the incredible dunes by the lake. Continue reading
Author, educator and theologian, Howard Thurman, once told a story about one of his university students, a deep-sea diver, who wrote about his experience on the ocean floor.
Discovering a coral rock garden, he sat down to look around. First, a single fish swam up to look at him. Then more and more fish were swimming around him. Soon, the garden became more intense. More vivid. More colorful. Plants opened revealing their blossoms. Continue reading
In recent weeks, I have witnessed some promising signs regarding a return to church attendance. I recently met a couple who returned to in-person worship for the first time since COVID-19 either shut down or restricted public gatherings.
I’m hearing similar stories from other preachers and pastors who are seeing an increase in attendance. Continue reading
Friday Norma Jean and I were in Temple Terrace enjoying time with our grandchildren Roy,6½, and Fern, age 4.
“Let’s go on an excursion,” I said to the kids.
“What’s an excursion?” Roy asked.
“It’s like a school field trip,” Grammy explained.
After a quick stop at Dollar Tree to buy some (artificial) flowers and giving them each a dollar to buy a treat, we headed to Sunset Memorial Gardens where my parents, Roy and Mattie Weliever are buried. Continue reading
“The question is not whether we say nice, polite, orthodox, enthusiastic things to or about Jesus; nor whether we hear his words, listening, studying, pondering and memorizing until our minds are stuffed with his teaching: but whether we do what we say and do what we know, in other words, whether the Lordship of Jesus which we profess is one of our life’s major realities.” Continue reading
Somebody said it takes about six weeks to get back to normal after you’ve had a baby…somebody doesn’t know that once you’re a mother, “normal” is history.
Somebody said you learn how to be a mother by instinct…somebody never took a three-year-old shopping.
Somebody said being a mother is boring…somebody never rode in a car driven by a teenager with a driver’s permit. Continue reading
Today Norma Jean and I are going to Beulah.
No, not Beulah Land as in the old hymn referring to heaven. But the Beulah church of Christ in Douglasville, Georgia, where I will be preaching in a Sunday-Wednesday meeting. Continue reading
Open my eyes, that I may see
glimpses of truth thou hast for me;
place in my hand the wonderful key
that shall unclasp and set me free.
The words of this hymn, written by Midwesterner, Clara H. Scott, have been sung by Christians for over 125 years.
Each stanza speaks to an increasing awareness and receptivity to God’s Word. Open eyes. Open ears. Open mouth. Open heart. Continue reading