“The end is near!” “Repent!”
Have you ever seen a statement of prophetic warning spray-painted on a wall or in a subway station? got to be honest, I don’t take much notice to such warnings. But what if those warnings were for me and for you?
Will I ever love a church again? Brittany Allen asks, “Could I reclaim that vulnerability that once came so naturally to me after it had been used as a weapon pointed at my own heart? Could God rebuild my faith in his Bride and redeem what had been lost?”
The hidden curriculum of the wilderness: Christopher Cook says, “When you’re in that space—the wilderness between who you were and who you’re becoming—you will be tempted to mislabel it; to call it punishment; to rebuke it like it’s an attack; even, to distract yourself from it.
I’m normally the second person to arrive at church on Sunday morning. Nick is always first. Nick arrives at 5am, straps on his blower, and cleans the sidewalks and patios. What a heart of hospitality: to volunteer to make sure that the church is looking her best come Sunday morning.
This is one notable act of service among countless others. A few years ago, two members of our connection group showed up within an hour of my text to help me move a jacuzzi. In our two local moves, we’ve had more than two dozen help us. Our connection group dropped off meals at our doorstep when we had Covid.
I’ve had four bags in my (nearly) ten years of pastoral ministry at New Life. I bought a leather briefcase that was too small and came apart at the seams followed by a leather briefcase that was too large and stiff. I gave up on the briefcase experiment and for the past three years I have used my son’s hand-me-down backpack from his middle school years. My wife and kids constantly teased me about my middle school backpack. But you know,
Four years ago, I was tagging along on my wife’s shopping trip and found a backpack tucked away on a clearance rack. It was love at first sight, and not just because of the 60% off tag.
Four good questions to ask your tech: Tim Challies says, “We are in constant communication with our devices and through our devices. And since we are already in the habit of asking them our deep and personal questions, perhaps it would do us good to ask them some good and honest questions about themselves. Here are four questions I propose we ask of any technology that has become (or has the potential to become) deeply embedded in our lives.”
Embracing the silence: Christopher Cook says, “We’re spiritually exhausted, disoriented, and desperate to hear from God. And in our desperation, we turn up the volume, hoping that more input will lead to more clarity. But the Lord doesn’t compete with the chaos. His voice doesn’t cut through the noise. It waits for stillness.”
Who would I be if I was happy? Trevin Wax warns us, “Many young people are increasingly drawn to establishing and expressing their identities through their psychological maladies.”
Wherever he leads, I’ll go: Glenna Marshall shares a story I bet you might identify with, “In young, untried faith, I nearly invited him to test me, telling him in a long, journaled prayer that wherever he led, I would most certainly go. I banked on my obedience. I would be stalwart, no matter what came. But life came. And the Lord led me to places I longed to escape from: decades of infertility, disease, chronic pain that battered my body for years on end.”
Britain’s loneliest sheep: Stephen Steele begins, “A high-profile new resident arrived in South West Scotland recently – a ewe once known as ‘Britain’s Loneliest Sheep’. Fiona, as she has been named, was rescued after being stranded for more than two years at the foot of cliffs in the Scottish Highlands.”
When the walk becomes a crawl: David Powlison exhorts us, “The key to getting a long view of sanctification is to understand direction. What matters most is not the distance you’ve covered. It’s not the speed you’re going. It’s not how long you’ve been a Christian. It’s the direction you’re heading.”
Jerusalem, Israel
3:15 am, April 13
I sat up in bed to a wailing sound I had never heard before, but knew immediately: an air raid siren. Our building rattled to the booms of interceptors from Israel’s missile defense system hitting their inbound targets. I pulled back the curtains and watched as sprays of light streaked the sky.
Iran launched 170 drones, 20 cruise missiles, and 120 ballistic missiles at Israel in retaliation for Israel’s purported attack on an Iranian embassy in Syria.
Nothing is more iconic to the Tucson landscape than the saguaro. The emblematic cactus is to the Sonoran Desert what the palm tree is to Miami: hard to imagine without it. Saguaros typically live between one hundred and fifty to one hundred and seventy-five years, not sprouting its trademark arms until around thirty to seventy years of its life and growing to around fifty feet tall.
For those Sonoran Desert natives, we intuitively know where saguaros thrive. They love the rocky (both granite and volcanic) soil at the foothills of the five beautiful mountain ranges that surround Tucson.
The internal contradiction in transgender theories: Trevin Wax explains, “It doesn’t take long to recognize the internal inconsistency between these two narratives. The first depends on maleness and femaleness being something real, for a binary must exist for it to be transgressed or transcended. The second questions reality altogether, falling for a radical skepticism that reimagines the world in terms of linguistic power plays.”
Tasting heaven now: Casey McCall asks, “But what if I told you the Bible presents the resurrection as something you begin experiencing now in this life?
Who are the most influential leaders in your life? What made them such great leaders?
I fear that our cultural understanding of leadership is going further astray from true leadership. We Americans seem to have a bizarre attraction to two types of leaders: celebrities and powerful communicators with bold, brash opinions. We judge leaders by the size of their platform.
Some time ago I was asked to speak to the Moms Matter group in our church about healthy leadership in the home and beyond. One of the comments made by the leadership team was that many moms believe they “don’t need to be or can’t be a leader because they are just moms.” We can all similarly dismiss ourselves.
I bet you hold Jesus in high regard. Nearly everyone does, no matter their religious leaning. We’ve been considering the position of the inclusivist. Let’s invite Jesus into the conversation.
With love in his eyes, Jesus begins, “I am the way, the truth, and the life, no one comes to the Father except through me” (Jn 14:6).
Jesus is no inclusivist. How would he respond to the inclusivist?
The Bible claims that Jesus is our only rescue. Throughout the pages of the New Testament, writer after writer and Jesus himself claim that Jesus Christ alone connects humankind back to God. Jesus claims he is no mere human being, but is God himself.
One of the most persuasive stories told by inclusivists is an old parable about five blind men and an elephant. Five blind men approach an elephant.
One touches the massive side of the elephant and exclaims, “An elephant is like a wall!”
The second touches the elephant's tusk, and feeling it says, “An elephant is like a spear!”
The third grabs hold of the elephant's trunk and exclaims, “An elephant is like a python!”
The fourth grabs the elephant’s leg and declares, “An elephant is like a tree!”
The fifth grabs hold of the elephant’s tail and states, “An elephant is like a rope!”
Christians claim that the only way to restore our relationship with God is through Jesus Christ. This is an exclusive claim: there is only one way to God. But why would God be so narrow? Isn’t it arrogant for Christians to say Christianity is superior to other religions or worldviews? Isn’t inclusivism a better way than exclusivism?
As one bumper sticker and meme says: “God is too big to fit into any one religion.”
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