based on Luke 12:12-29 There is a complexity to Jesus’ parables. Do you remember the pictures we had as children, the ones that when held one way, looked like one picture, but if you slightly adjusted your perspective, became something else? They came as prizes in Cracker Jack boxes among other places. Apparently, they were called flicker pictures or wiggle pictures. But their real name is Lenticular pictures.  Jesus’ teachings are just like that. The stories look different from different perspectives. First, let’s look at the story and parable: Someone in the crowd says to Jesus, “Rabbi, tell my brother to divide the family inheritanceRead More →

Throughout the whole Bible, there are some amazing birth stories. Remember back… the first story is from Genesis, when Abraham and Sarah are told they will have a child. The messenger said to Abraham, “About this time next year I will return, and your wife Sarah will have a son.” Sarah laughed silently. She was old. She was barren. She was surprised when she had Isaac. Samson, one of the Judges had another amazing birth. “In those days, a man named Manoah from the tribe of Dan lived int he town of Zorah. His wife was unable to become pregnant, and they had no children.Read More →

Sometimes I wish the Bible were more explicit. I wish that it said, “In order to have a successful life, to be loved by God, and to help others feel loved and taken care of, do 1, 2, 3 and 4.” Then it could say, “In order to have a good, healthy church, do X, Y, Z, and ocassionally P.” But it doesn’t exactly do that, does it?  It probably doesn’t do it because of the complexity of life… an answer that works for you probably wouldn’t work for me. Of course, it probably wouldn’t work for me, because I’m pretty hardheaded, and I’d probablyRead More →

No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief, More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring. Comforter, where, where is your comforting? Mary, mother of us, where is your relief? My cries heave, herds-long; huddle in a main, a chief Woe, wórld-sorrow; on an áge-old anvil wince and sing — Then lull, then leave off. Fury had shrieked ‘No ling- ering! Let me be fell: force I must be brief.”‘ O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap May who ne’er hung there. Nor does long our small Durance deal with that steep or deep. Here!Read More →