Simon the Pharisee: The Fuel of True Love for God
He had the Holy One of Israel in his house, reclining at his table. The Prophet that Moses had foretold was sharing dinner with him. The Lord of glory, the Resurrection and the Life, was speaking with him face to…Continue Reading
Bless the Mother of Jesus, but Mainly Be the Mother of Jesus
The veneration given to Mary in the Roman Catholic church is beyond what is warranted by the New Testament. In fact, it is astonishing how little we see of Mary in the New Testament. Let us honor her unique motherhood.…Continue Reading
What Is Advent?
We are a people of promise. For centuries, God prepared people for the coming of his Son, our only hope for life. At Christmas we celebrate the fulfillment of the promises God made—that he would give a way to draw…Continue Reading
Next Best to Grace: Oxygen
Little Lamb, Who Made Thee?
William Blake was born yesterday, 1757. One of his most famous poems is one of my favorites. It’s a good launch into Advent.
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid…
Why Say That Marriage Is Like Christ and the Church?
When I asked Noël if there was anything she wanted me to say about marriage, she said, “You cannot say too often that marriage is a model of Christ and the church.”
I think she is right and there are…Continue Reading
How Clear Differences Unite Humanity
I have often said that I can go much farther down the road together with a serious, biblically oriented, articulate, firmly-believing Arminian than with a jesting, systems-oriented, unclear, wish-washy, Reformed philosopher.
G. K. Chesterton helps explain why.
It’s not merely…
A Chapter Closes in Advent at Bethlehem
Some traditions are temporary—like a quarter of a century. This one lasted 27 years. I am referring to the reading of Advent Poems at Bethlehem during Sunday Morning worship. I read the first one in 1982. Then I wrote four…Continue Reading
By How Many Doors Must You Enter Paradise?
Here’s an unusual wake up call about the wonders of marriage.
To complain that I could only be married once was like complaining that I had only been born once. It was incommensurate with the terrible excitement of which one…