Hey folks – trying something different with this one. You can still check out the blog as usual below, but you can also watch it here on video! Let me know what you think!
Author: Pastorbrentmiller
Providence
‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord. ‘They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope’ – Jeremiah 29:11 (NLT)
Back in 2016, at about the time Donald Trump was about to wrap up the Republican Nomination for President, I remember thinking, ‘If this man becomes President, how will I explain it to my children?’ I thought so much about this that I ran a web search looking for answers. I found an article that I thought was pure gold (I’d provide you with a link, but unfortunately it is no longer available). The author suggested that Trump’s rise presented the perfect opportunity to teach our children that the words of scripture are true. Specifically, she quoted Proverbs 16:18: ‘pride goes before the fall,’ and posited that it would only be a matter of time before a blustering narcissist like Trump would crash and burn. This struck a chord in me. Having written a book on the pride of Old Testament kings, I had thought long and hard about the truth of Proverbs 16:18, both in Bible times and ever since. I was convinced. And so I talked to my children about the proverb. I told them that somehow, in the story that was unfolding, the truth of scripture would once again be affirmed.
It’s been over three years since I read that article. My children and I are still waiting for the author’s prediction to come to pass. Every time I think that it might, it doesn’t. I have to admit that at times, I am deeply frustrated. I find myself echoing the classic lament, ‘How long O Lord?’ Waiting, you see, has always been as hard for me as it was for the Psalmist.
But just the other day, while wallowing in the worry of the wait, I remembered a word I have too often forgotten.
Providence.
When theologians speak of Providence, they refer to the guiding hand of God in all things; the fact that whatever happens, God remains in control. Romans 8:28 makes the point in classic fashion: ‘in all things, God is working for the good of those who love him, for those called according to his purposes.’ That is, in the midst of all things, both the beautiful and the tragic (and everything in between), God is working to bring about His divine purposes. (Please note: this does not mean that God causes tragic circumstances, just that he works in the midst of them).
It’s a beautiful concept, the notion that no matter what, God has the whole world in his hands. I think of the story of Joseph in the Old Testament (my personal favorite), the history of a man destined for great things, thrown into a pit and sold into slavery by his brothers, winding up in a fetid prison, seemingly experiencing the death of his dreams. But in every circumstance, at every turn, God was with Joseph, shaping and molding him into the man he was meant to be. When he became that man, God raised him from the prison to prominence in Egypt, from which position he was able to feed the world. Or I think of Ruth and her tragic history, of how the death of her husband was the death of her dreams, yet God, in His amazing providential care, created beauty from her ashes, fueled her with new life, and through her, brought hope and redemption to both Israel and the world. In each of these stories, and in so many others, we see the guiding hand of providence, working in the soil of bitterness to bring forth an abundant harvest of joy.
Such stories bring me great hope. They remind me that God is at work in history. He always has been, and always will be (even in circumstances far worse than the ones we are passing through now). I confess that for the most part I can’t make heads or tails out of what God is up to in these Trumpian days. I can’t understand what good can come from separating families. Or how things will get better amidst the rise of racist rhetoric and action. I can’t fathom how the current effort to ‘Make America White Again’ will improve things in the long run. I can’t comprehend how Christianity will prosper given its identification with this rancid political movement. Quite frankly, most of the time I’m at a total loss as to how God has been working all things together for good over the past few years.
But I know He has been. I know that His providential care is working in the midst of it all. And so, sometimes of late, when the news cycle is bouncing around in my head at night and I am having trouble falling asleep, I simply affirm, along with Alistair Begg, that ‘providence is a soft pillow and we may lie down in safety knowing that God is in control.’
Whew.
Yes, God is in control, even in the midst of this reality show we call the Trump Presidency. God is working. And perhaps, if we look hard enough, we can see some of what He is up to. Perhaps God is, among other things, preparing and purifying His Church for a new day of service and witness. He may well be using this time to reveal the hypocrisy that has long existed in His church – the fact that so many who claim to follow the crucified Christ have in fact been following a god who bears little resemblance to him. Already we can see God calling forth resisters who, in the spirit of the prophets, are speaking truth to power. He is revealing the vicious racism that is America’s original and undealt with sin, a sin that has always been present, hiding in plain sight, but can hide no more. He is calling forth a new generation of Jesus followers to raise their voices for a more just world. He is, we can hope, doing all of this and more, as he leads his Church to a new day when the children of God will live and walk in the way of the Messiah who brought Good News to the poor, announced liberation to the captives, set the oppressed free, and declared the acceptable year of the Lord (Luke 4:18-19).
Just how God will play all of this out, I don’t know. Just how God will heal the wounds of this era, I don’t know. But I trust that He will – that He will weave his tapestry of grace even in the midst of all the nonsense, hurt, and pain. I trust that in the end, His tapestry will be beautiful.
Until we see that tapestry in all is beauty, it falls to us to trust. To stand for truth and justice. To point to what is right. To love at all costs. To speak. To act. To share solidarity with the suffering and to wait for the day of redemption that is to come. To do all of this, knowing, in the words of the Apostle Paul, that nothing we ever do in the name of Jesus will ever be in vain (1 Corinthians 15:58).
Because in the end, God will have His way.
In the end, the prideful will fall, and the glory of God will shine from sea to shining sea.
Providence is indeed a great comfort in times like these. It reminds us that, though the sorrow may last for the night, and the night may last longer than we would prefer, the joy comes in the morning (Psalm 30:5).
Take heart my friends. Morning is on its way.
Under Christ’s Mercy,
Brent
War, Peace, and Mr. Rogers
‘Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God’ – Matthew 5:9
‘Isn’t peace wonderful?’ – Fred Rogers
This past week, the United States and Iran journeyed to the brink of war. Thankfully, it seems that cooler heads have, at least for the time being, prevailed. While I decry the appalling lack of foresight and impulsivity that led to the crisis, I am thankful to leaders on both sides for their willingness to find an off ramp to what might otherwise have been the start of WWIII.
The crisis of the past week has made me think of how nations and individuals need to look for such off ramps in the face of impending violence. Which of course leads me to think of Mr. Rogers.
You would have to be living under a rock right now not to know who Mr. Rogers is. Even if you didn’t grow up watching his show, Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, he is all over the cultural landscape. Tom Hanks’s biopic, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood is a big hit, as was the 2018 documentary Won’t You Be My Neighbor? Fred Rogers exemplified decency and kindness and generosity, things in short supply these days, and so it isn’t surprising that America is taking a nostalgic look back to the life of a man who taught a whole generation how to be decent, kind and generous.
What many don’t know about Mr. Rogers, (although the movies are making people aware) is that Mr. Rogers was subversive. Quietly so, but subversive all the same. His show’s first week on the air coincided with the Tet offensive in Viet Nam. While America debated the wisdom of the conflict, Mr. Rogers made no bones about where he stood, opening his children’s series with a weeklong ode to peace.
The plotline for that first week of programming focused on a kingdom in crisis. The Land of Make Believe had become a warzone. King Friday, fearful of changes in his kingdom wrought by Lady Elaine Fairchild, has become convinced that foreign devils are at work. His response bears an eerie similarity to today’s headlines. To prevent further change, he increases security at the border, commences military exercises, and otherwise prepares for war. What was once a peaceful kingdom turns into a dominion of fear.
As terror descends upon the land, many of the King’s subjects, chiefly Lady Aberlin and Daniel Striped Tiger, become increasingly concerned. Lamenting the situation, Daniel has a wild idea (what other kind would you expect from a tiger?). Turning to Lady Aberlin, he suggests they float ‘peace balloons’ over King Friday’s castle to let him know that his subjects want peace. It seems silly, but the dissenters get to work, filling balloons with helium and writing messages on them: ‘love,’ ‘peaceful coexistence,’ ‘tenderness,’ and most obviously, ‘peace.’ They then send the balloons Friday’s way.
The balloons land inside the castle grounds. At first, the paranoid Friday thinks they are enemy paratroopers. But as he reads the messages, he comes to his senses. ‘Stop all the fighting!’ he shouts. Repenting of his foolishness, he calls off all preparations for war, and restores peace to The Land of Make Believe.
Now, this is where the cynic rolls his or her eyes and says, ‘That’s a nice story. But for crying out loud, it’s a children’s TV show, and it takes place in The Land of Make Believe! It doesn’t work that way in the real world, bub. In the real world, those who turn their swords into plowshares wind up plowing the fields of those who didn’t. Better to be ready. To do it to them before they do it to us.’
But the cynic is wrong.
G.K. Chesterton famously quipped, ‘Christianity has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult and left untried.’ For the most part, we can apply this to the quest for peace. War seduces us by promising results. It’s an effective way, so the argument goes, to deal with your enemies. Never mind the carnage it leaves behind. It’s the price you pay to protect yourself. But there is another option, the option of nonviolence. And oddly enough, when it is tried, nonviolence works.
Consider Gandhi’s nonviolent revolution in India (built upon the teachings of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount), a revolution that took on an empire and won without firing of a shot. Or look to the Civil Rights Movement in America in the 1960’s, when the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King and many others armed themselves with nothing but love and determination and brought about positive change. Go further back in time to Saint Patrick’s missionary work in Ireland, when he helped change a savage land into the pacific outpost that saved civilization (see Thomas Cahill’s masterful book, How The Irish Saved Civilization). Read the stories of how the Iron Curtain and Communism fell in Eastern Europe before candles and prayers. Or the story of the five martyred missionaries in Ecuador whose nonviolence became the catalyst for the transformation of a culture that was perhaps the most violent on earth into a community of peace (you can watch the movies, The End of the Spear or Beyond the Gates of Splendor to learn about that amazing story).
The truth is that when people creatively seek peaceful resolutions to conflict, incredible things happen. Yes, it is often at a cost. But a far lower one than the cost of war. Nonviolence and peace may seem silly and difficult, as ridiculous even as floating balloons over a castle to prevent a war. But history shows that when people seek creative and ridiculous solutions, they often wind up changing the world.
Anyway, that’s what Mr. Rogers thought.
And guess what? It’s what God thinks too. For when God established his plan to save the world, he did something as nonviolent and ridiculous – perhaps more so – as floating balloons over a castle. He sent a baby into the heart of the Roman Empire, a baby who grew to face the world with no weapons but prayer, unlimited love, and the guidance of his heavenly Abba, a baby who grew to be a man who would courageously embrace death upon a cross as the way to crush evil.
Yeah, God is pretty crazy. As crazy, if not more so, than Daniel Tiger. But he is also pretty darn creative in his response to a sinful and violent world.
Which is why, when danger lurks in our world, when change threatens to undermine our ‘kingdoms,’ we can’t respond as king Friday originally did. We need to be more like Daniel Tiger. We need to be ridiculously creative and try crazy things in order to achieve peace. Because believe it or not, doing crazy things is God’s way of doing things. And believe it or not, it works.
Maybe it’s time we all started floating some balloons of our own.
Under Christ’s Mercy,
Brent
Note: Story from Mr. Rogers’ first week of programming is adapted from Michael Long’s Peaceful Neighbor: Discovering the Countercultural Mister Rogers.
A Strange Way to Save the World
‘The people who walk in darkness will see a great light…for a child is born to us, a son is given to us’ – (Isaiah 9:2;6)
One small child. Born into poverty. Laid in a manger. God’s plan to save the world.
Ridiculous.
I mean, just look at the scope of the problem: a world fallen from its original purpose, trapped under the power of sin and death. A power capable of separating people from one another and from God. God had a plan to defeat it though, the prophets said. A plan that would save the people from sin and death, turn swords into plowshares, guide humanity in the way of peace, replace hearts of stone with hearts of flesh, make all things new, and carry humanity back to God.
Surely it would be a grand plan. God would give us something mighty and powerful. Something to set the hair of the world on end.
Instead, he gave a baby.
Worse still, he sent the baby into enemy occupied territory. Israel was a mere a province in the vast Roman Empire, an empire that never hesitated to make an example of anyone deemed to pose a threat. The ruler of Judea, King Herod, governed with the consent of this empire, and was just as bad. Indeed, Matthew tells us that in the wake of Jesus’ birth, Herod did everything he could to kill him. A bit later, Luke tells us, an old man named Simeon pronounced that the child will be opposed.
And he would be. The road that lay ahead of that small child born and laid in a manger was fraught with opposition. He would wield no political or military power, yet somehow be called upon to navigate through a maze of religious, political, and demonic power to fulfill his mission. Which was – and this is truly ridiculous – to reveal God’s love to the world by dying on a cross.
This was God’s plan to save the world from the dungeon of darkness.
Like I keep saying, it was ridiculous. If we had stood by Jesus’ manger that first Christmas night, I wonder what odds we would have given that he would succeed? A baby against an empire? A baby against the power of religion? A baby against the forces of hell? What were the odds of success?
Zip. Zero. Nada. Goose eggs.
Someone out there may recognize the way I just said that. That sequence of words comes from one of my favorite children’s books: Kate DiCamillo’s The Tale of Despereaux. It tells the story of a mouse, Despereaux Tilling, who was born into his own version of a dangerous world. He was so small that no one expected him to live. But somehow, he did. He was different from other mice in that he had very large ears and was born with his eyes open. Thus, from the very beginning, Despereaux Tilling was able to see and hear more than others. He was also unlike other mice in that while other mice were afraid of their own shadows, Despereaux dreamed of valor, honor, and most of all, courage.
Despereaux and his fellow mice lived in the King’s Castle in the Kingdom of Dor, and while the other mice avoided contact with the people of the castle, Despereaux actively sought them out. One day, while wandering around the castle, he met the Princess Pea. And that’s when something grand happened: she smiled at him, and he smiled back. And then, if you can believe it, he fell in love. DiCamillo notes in her book right away that it is of course ridiculous for a mouse to fall in love with a princess. But then again, as she puts it, ‘love is ridiculous. But, love is also wonderful. And powerful. And Despereaux’s love for Pea would prove, in time, to be all of these things: powerful, wonderful and ridiculous.’
At about the time that Despereaux was ridiculously falling in love with a human princess, a series of events were unfolding that brought disaster to the Kingdom of Dor. I don’t want to ruin the story for you – I would encourage you all to read it for yourselves – but the long and the short of it is that Pea is kidnapped and taken to the deepest part of the dungeon beneath the castle. Guess to whom it falls to rescue her?
That’s right, Despereaux Tilling. Armed with nothing more than a spool of red thread and a needle, he descends into the dungeon to find the princess.
Which takes me to the point of this post. DiCamillo writes:
‘That night, Despereaux rolled the thread from the threadmaster’s lair, along innumerable hallways and down three flights of stairs. Reader, allow me to put this in perspective for you: your average mouse (or castle mouse, if you will) weighs somewhere in the neighborhood of four ounces. Despereaux, as you well know, was in no way average. In fact, he was so incredibly small that he weighed about half of what the average mouse weighs: two ounces. That is all. Think about it: He was nothing but two ounces of mouse pushing a spool of thread that weighed almost as much as he did. Honestly, what do you think the chances are of such a small mouse succeeding in his quest? Zip. Zero. Nada. Goose eggs.’
In other words, the same as the odds of one small child succeeding in his quest to save the world.
But then, DiCamillo adds these beautiful words:
‘But you must, when you are calculating the odds of the mouse’s success, factor in his love for the princess. Love, as we have already discussed, is a powerful, wonderful, ridiculous thing, capable of moving mountains. And spools of thread.’
Love people. Do you get it? God’s strange way to save the world, through the birth of one small child, is surely as ridiculous as the notion of a mouse going off to save a princess. And the odds of success in each case would seem to be about the same. Zip. Zero. Nada. Goose eggs. But, just as it was in The Tale of Despereaux, you must, when calculating the odds of a small child’s success, factor in love. For love, as we have said, is ridiculous, but it is also a powerful and wonderful thing, capable of moving mountains. And saving the world.
This Christmas, know that it was God’s love that came down at Christmas time. God’s love that led to the birth of that one small child. God’s love that led that child to fulfill his mission and rescue us from our dungeons of sin and death. This Christmas, I hope you will be a little ridiculous yourself – and love him back with all of your heart and soul – that you might experience just how ridiculous, powerful and wonderful God’s love truly is.
Under Christ’s Mercy,
Brent
The World Outside Your Window
‘There’s a world outside your window, and it’s a world of dread and fear’ – Band Aid
‘Christmas is a time for positive thoughts. So be positive in all you say and do this season.’ So said the article written by a prominent Evangelical Christian. Out of context it sounds like good advice, a ‘count your blessings’ and ‘focus on the joys of the season’ sort of thing. I suppose he has a point. There is so much to celebrate at Christmastime. It would be a shame to miss out by thinking gloomy thoughts. But the writer had an agenda. His tone and tenor suggested that his real purpose was to silence anyone from speaking out against the cruelty and corruption of the Trump Administration. It was basically a partisan piece designed to keep resisters quiet. You know, stop pointing out that things are wrong and that people are getting hurt. It’s ruining everyone’s good time, harshing the holiday buzz. Just back off and allow everyone to bask in the hope, joy, love, and peace that is available during the season of Advent.
That’s the kind of thing only a privileged, comfortable person could say these days. For in fact, not everyone feels hope, joy, love, and peace this year. Many are struggling to find hope, experiencing deep sorrow, battling hate, and living with a deep sense of unease. The 1984 classic ‘Do they know it’s Christmas?’ written by Bob Geldof and Midge Ure to enlighten a languid western world to the reality of famine in Africa (a far worse situation than what we currently face to be sure), speaks well to many in America today:
In our world of plenty, you can spread a smile of joy
Throw your arms around the world at Christmastime.
But say a prayer – pray for the other ones –
At Christmastime, it’s hard, but while you’re having fun,
There’s a world outside your window, and it’s a world of dread and fear.
Where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears.
And the Christmas bells that ring there, are the clanging chimes of doom.
Well tonight, thank God it’s them, instead of you.
I was reminded of this world outside our windows while watching the NETFLIX series, Living Undocumented. It tells stories of families victimized by Trump’s ‘zero tolerance’ immigration policy. The first episode includes the story of a man separated from his wife, about to be separated from his son, as our government works to deport them both. The closing scene shows the father praying with his immigration attorney, hoping against all hope for a miracle. How can I ‘just think positive thoughts’ knowing that my brother in Christ – and he is but one of thousands – weeps and prays for a miracle to save his family from a policy that a majority of white Christians in America either support or simply choose not to think about?
Then I think of the refugees, people who have fled war, terror, and starvation, seeking asylum in the United States, the land that once welcomed the ‘tired, the poor, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free.’ A couple of months ago, America recorded the first month in ages in which it resettled a total of zero refugees. I imagine these people living in tents, waiting for a miracle, realizing that there will not be one in time for Christmas. Or maybe ever.
I think of an African-American community, mourning the death of yet another son, a young man gunned down because the color of his skin was considered a threat to someone’s existence. I imagine this community listening to the bitter rhetoric of a President aggressively seeking to maintain the dominance of whiteness in America, fueling minds that hate, proclaiming, essentially, that black lives do not matter. I imagine families in that community fearfully wondering whether the next son gunned down will be their own.
Geldof and Ure were right: there is indeed a world outside our windows, and it’s a world of dread and fear.
I don’t mean to be depressing though. Because I believe that even in the midst of such a world, there is hope – and joy and love and peace. Why? Because I believe in Christmas. Christmas gives us reason to believe in all of those positive things even in the midst of negative realities. Not by ignoring those realities, but by realizing that something has been and can be done about them. But in order for hope to rise, we need to understand Christmas rightly.
Christmas isn’t the story of having fun and thinking positive thoughts while ignoring the painful realities of the world. Christmas is the story of a God who looked outside the window of heaven, saw the pain and peril of His people, and did something. The world at the time was brutal. Caesar was King, and his legions terrorized the world. Quite frankly, the actions of the Romans toward conquered peoples makes Trump seem like a lightweight. The opening scenes of The Nativity Story (which I heartily recommend you watch this Christmas season) depict the way in which the Romans cruelly oppressed the Jewish people, taking away their livelihoods, kidnapping their daughters to work off their debts. Resistance was not tolerated, and those who dared oppose Rome suffered the sword or the cross. It was, indeed, a world of dread and fear.
God saw all of this, and did two things. First, he spoke. The God who spoke creation into existence spoke what Michael Card calls, ‘one final, perfect word:’ Incarnation. Second, he acted. He acted on His word, entering into the suffering of His people. God did not simply bask in the positive glow of heaven. He spoke and acted concretely in the lives of the oppressed.
You can see this clearly in the Christmas story. God spoke to Zechariah, bringing hope to an old man and his wife by giving them a son. And not just any son, but the son who was to prepare the way for God’s Messiah. Not everyone understands this, but that was a revolutionary and subversive act, an overt challenge to the oppressive status quo. God was sending his Anointed to set the world to rights, to ‘rescue His people from their enemies,’ as Zechariah put it (See, Luke 1:74). God was not quiet in the face of oppression. He spoke and acted against it.
This is even clearer in the case of Mary. Inspired by the Holy Spirit, she sang of the mystery and wonder that was happening to her by singing of scattering the proud and mighty, bringing down princes from their thrones, and sending the rich away empty as the poor and hungry were lifted up (See, Luke 1:46-55). This is the language of revolution. A warning shot across the bow of the powers that be. An announcement that a new day was coming. Neither God nor Mary were silent in the face of oppression. They spoke and acted to make things right, even if their words made those in power feel uncomfortable.
You can read the rest of the Christmas story on your own. But the bottom line is that through it all, in the invitation to lowly shepherds, in the fulfillment of Simeon and Anna’s hopes, and most especially in the lowly birth of Jesus, we see God speaking and acting to challenge the status quo by acknowledging the suffering of his people, not ignoring it, but entering into and becoming a part of it.
And therein lies the message for those who follow Jesus today. In a world where outside our windows lie people who lack hope, love, joy, and peace, a world of dread and fear, where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears, where the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom, the thing to do is NOT to simply bask in the warm glow of Christmas and thank God it’s them instead of you. The thing to do is to speak. The thing to do is to act. The thing to do is to enter the suffering around you and become part of it.
That’s what God did at Christmastime.
It’s what he still does.
It would be a sin for those who follow him to do anything less.
Under Christ’s Mercy,
Brent
2027
‘They have planted the wind and will harvest the whirlwind‘ – Hosea 8:7 NLT
Washington DC – The impeachment inquiry continues today on Capitol Hill as Republican members of the House of Representatives continue to present their case that Democratic President Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (PAOC) abused the power of her office for partisan political purposes.
The story broke over the summer that individuals working at PAOC’s direction had made repeated overtures to the newly elected President of South Korea to announce an investigation into the business activities of Nikki Haley and her family. Haley, who served as Vice President in the Trump administration from 2021-2025, is widely considered to be the front runner for the 2028 Republican Presidential nomination.
Soon after the story broke, PAOC released a transcript of a ‘perfect’ call between herself and the South Korean President that seemed to confirm the allegations. House Republicans immediately launched the current investigation, which has produced both records and testimony from career diplomats and military officers that conclusively prove that PAOC ordered the withholding of military aid to South Korea until such time as an investigation was announced into Ms. Haley and her family. Further evidence indicates that PAOC created a shadow government led by her personal attorney to further pressure South Korea and otherwise dig up dirt on Haley. It should be noted that there is no evidence that either Ms. Haley or her family engaged in any unlawful activity.
Jim Jordan, Republican Chairman of the House Committee for Integrity and Consistency in Government, which is conducting the investigation, raged in his opening statement, ‘The President abused her power for her own personal gain. Never in my congressional tenure have I seen such an explicit abuse of power. If I had I would have done something about it! That woman has invited foreign powers to interfere with our democracy. If this isn’t an impeachable offense, nothing is!’
California Republican and fellow committee member Devin Nunes echoed Jordan’s sentiments. ‘The witnesses before this committee have included lifelong foreign service men and women and a purple heart recipient. These are the most honorable men and women in America. I have always listened to and respected such witnesses. They have laid out a case of bribery, pure and simple, a veritable shakedown against an important American ally, and all the Democrats have in defense are disproved conspiracy theories and lies. I tell you, if this stands, our nation will never be the same again!’
From the other side of the Capital building, Senate Minority Leader Lindsay Graham, channeling a 1998 version of himself, lambasted Democrats in both the House and Senate for refusing to watch the hearings or otherwise listen to the evidence. ‘Our democracy is under attack by foreign powers with the assistance of the Chief Executive, and the party in power is doing nothing! This is outrageous! My friend John McCain would be appalled!’
Donald Trump also weighed in on the scandal. Tweeting from his home in Moscow, where he now lives with his fourth wife, the former President and Russian Oligarch said, ‘AOC is a lightweight! Doesn’t even know how to have a scandal. Mine was way bigger than hers. Bigger than anybodys! Make Russia Great Again! Covefe!’
Trump’s intervention highlights the difficulty Republicans will face in attempting to impeach and remove PAOC from office. Undercutting their case at every turn is the fact that for eight years, the official position of the GOP was that the President had authority to engage in what they now accuse PAOC of doing.
PAOC has been under attack by Republicans ever since she managed to overcame all odds to win the 2024 Presidential election. Much to the consternation of Republicans, she managed to eke out an electoral college win while losing the popular vote by three million votes. The GOP has been furious ever since, and has not surprisingly used the current hearings to highlight what they now believe to be a host of unconstitutional maneuvers by the young President. These include emergency declarations that have transferred monies previously allocated by Congress for the military to, among other things, initiate a mandatory gun buy-back program, institute universal health coverage, provide federal funds to women seeking abortion, and purchase millions of large corks to be used in the President’s ongoing fight against bovine flatulence. She has also been accused of conspiring with the nations of the European Union to push false ads on social media in an attempt to persuade gullible Americans to vote against her rival, Donald Trump Jr., in the 2024 election.
PAOC has defended all of these actions by saying that Article II of the United States Constitution gives her the authority to do anything she darn well pleases, a position that was in fact ratified by the Supreme Court in 2021 shortly after President Trump appointed his third and fourth High Court Justices. She has stated that it is her intention to govern in this manner throughout the next 35 years of her tenure in office.
At press time, it was considered likely that the Republican controlled House would draft and pass articles of impeachment against the President. But in light of fairly recent historical precedent, it is widely assumed that Republicans in the equally divided Senate would not be able to muster sufficient Democratic defections to remove PAOC from office.
As newly elected Democratic Senator Joy Behar put it, ‘The rules for this sort of thing were settled by Republicans during the Trump years. Presidents are within their rights to invite foreign powers to interfere with our democratic processes. And to do anything else they want for that matter.’
‘What goes around comes around.’
Photo courtesy of Louis Velazquez on Unsplash
The Dawn From On High
‘When Herod was the king of Judea, there was a Jewish priest named Zechariah…’ – Luke 1:1
The following is an excerpt from chapter one of my book, The Dawn from High: Advent Through the Eyes of Those Who Were There.
It is a terrible thing to lose one’s faith. I know because there was a time in my life when I had. Not entirely of course. In fact, my wife and I did our best to live as God taught in the Law of Moses. Had I lived in your day, I would have been the guy who went to church every Sunday, believed every line in the Apostle’s Creed, and drove around with the outline of a fish on my car. But for all that, I had lost my faith. I knew God could do amazing things. I just didn’t think he would. I guess you could say I was a functional atheist. I believed, but at the same time, I didn’t BELIEVE.
My problem was caused by two things. First, the silence of God in the face of my people’s oppression. The Romans ruled over us with an iron fist, taxing us, enslaving us, and defiling the land with their pagan ways. Through the prophets of old the Lord had promised a deliverer, the Messiah, but he sure was taking his time about it. It had been centuries since that promise had been made, and so, while I never ceased to believe God would keep it, I didn’t expect that to happen in my lifetime. I simply did not believe I would live to see the day of his appearing. Perhaps sometime in the future, in the lifetime of my son…
That was the second reason I had lost faith. My wife and I had kept the Law. We loved the Lord with all our hearts, souls, minds and strength. But the deepest prayer of our lives, the prayer for a child, had gone unanswered. Well, that’s not entirely correct. It seemed as if it had been answered, and the answer was a big fat ‘No.’ It was the heartache of our lives, though we did our best to conceal it. Everyone saw us as so righteous and devout. It would never have done (or so we wrongly thought) to let people know we had feelings too. And so, while I believed in God’s promises, at the same time I didn’t. Sure, they were true. But not for Elizabeth and I.
But then one day God did something that restored my fragile faith. This is my story – the story of how God made me a believer again.
It was the proudest day of my career. I had been selected by lot to burn incense in the Holy Place of the Temple. This was an honor many priests never experienced, and yet another blessing I believed had passed me by, but there I was, chosen to perform this sacred act. I would come as close to the Most Holy Place, the place that once held the Ark of the Covenant, where God himself dwelled in the days of our ancestors, as a priest such as myself was permitted to go. Only the High Priest could go further, into the Holy of Holies, and that was only once a year on the Day of Atonement. I was to stand right outside that most sacred space and burn incense to the Lord. It was to be the greatest moment of my priestly career.
I made preparation and entered the sanctuary of the Lord. Before me stood the altar, behind it, the curtain that separated me from the Most Holy Place. I had chills. I could hardly believe I was there. With shaking hands I presented the offering. I was so nervous I honestly don’t know how I got through it, but somehow I did. I then prostrated myself before the altar, offered a prayer for the salvation of Israel and, still quivering, rose to leave.
Only I didn’t leave. Because that’s when I saw something I never expected to see.
It was an angel. I wish I could describe what he looked like, but honestly I can’t. All I can tell you is that he was both beautiful and terrifying. Thinking back on the experience, I can only chuckle at the fact that I had been standing as close to the presence of God as I had ever hoped to come, and yet was surprised to encounter the supernatural. Like I said, I was a functional atheist. But I wasn’t chuckling then. I was terrified. So there I was, shaking like a baby’s rattle, when just as suddenly as the angel appeared, he spoke.
‘Do not fear Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard!’ My heart nearly seized up when he said that, for I had just prayed for Israel’s salvation, for her deliverance from Rome. That alone was the greatest news I had ever heard. But deep within me, another thought competed for prominence: the thought that perhaps he was referring to my other prayer, the one my wife and I had offered so many times. I was no longer sure which of the two prayers he meant, but either one being answered would have been enough for me.
That’s when the angel really bowled me over.
‘Your wife Elizabeth will have a son, and you will name him John! You will be filled with great joy, as will others at the news of his birth. He will be great in God’s sight, and will be filled with the Holy Spirit. Indeed, he will bear the spirit and power of Elijah, and he will turn the hearts of Israel back to God. And he will clear the way for the coming of God’s Messiah!’
O Sovereign Lord! How easy it is for me now to thank you for what the angel said then! Not only did you give me a son, but you made him the one to prepare the way for your Messiah! Every reason I ever had not to believe had been dispelled in that moment. Not only could you do great things, but you were doing them! And you were doing them through the likes of me!
But alas, at the time, after so many years of not truly believing, I didn’t say anything like that. I said something else. Now please, before you judge me, put yourself in my shoes. My wife and I were hardly spring chickens. Sure, I knew about the story of Abraham and Sarah, and the miraculous birth of Isaac, but that had been a long time ago. And so, as I tried to get my mind around the angel’s words, I blurted out the dumbest thing I ever said in my life.
‘How can I know this will happen? I’m too old to have children, and my wife’s right up there with me. How can I be sure you are telling me the truth?’ Such a reasonable thing to say, don’t you think? So rational. So well grounded in fact. It was an entirely logical question to ask.
It was also utterly dismissive of the power of God.
The angel certainly thought so. He seemed to grow in size, beauty, and terror as he spoke: ‘I am Gabriel! The messenger of God! I have brought you good news, the greatest of all, and all you can say is that you’re too old! Well let me tell you ‘Mr. Too Old,’ I stand in the very throne room of God. And if you did that for even one minute, you would not dare question what God can do. But since you have asked for a sign, I will give you one. My words will be fulfilled in their time, but until they are, you will not be able to speak!’
I was struck dumb in an instant. I tried to respond but could not. But the punishment was fitting. I had been a priest for so long, but I had been all talk. When the chips came down, I did not believe. The angel’s punishment was fair, and which is more, redemptive, for over the next nine months, I would have ample opportunity to quietly watch, learn, ponder, and pray as I rediscovered what it meant to believe…
For the rest of Zechariah’s story, and to hear other perspectives on Advent through the eyes of Mary, Joseph, a Shepherd, Simeon, Anna, Herod and Gabriel, click here to check out my book The Dawn from On High.
Under Christ’s Mercy,
Brent
Photo courtesy of Levi Bare on Unsplash.
Uncle Ned
‘Last night I had the strangest dream’ – Matthew Wilder
I had a vivid dream the other night. I was at some sort of family gathering. Maybe it was Thanksgiving, maybe something else, but whatever it was, it was a major league affair. We’re talking Bilbo Baggins’ eleventy-first birthday party. Everyone was there – parents, grandparents, children, siblings, uncles, aunts, cousins, and spouses. The weird thing was that there were more people there than are actually in my family. It was as if an extra 500 people had been grafted into the family tree for the occasion. This made things super cool, I thought, since my family was now a representation of humanity. There were people of every race, nationality, and ethnicity. It was a foretaste of what heaven on earth will one day look like. I didn’t know everyone from real life, but in my dream, they were all part of my family.
Including Uncle Ned.
I don’t actually have an Uncle Ned. But I’ve heard people on the news talk about him from time to time. Uncle Ned is a name I’ve heard bandied about on TV in reference to that guy who seems to be in everyone’s family tree and who causes trouble at family gatherings. The guy who can’t keep his mouth shut and winds up offending everyone present.
Yes, it was that Uncle Ned. And he proceeded to do just what all proverbial Uncle Neds do.
He started off by talking about ‘colored people.’ He launched into an incoherent rant about NFL protests that before long morphed into a nostalgic longing for the ‘good old days’ when people knew their place. Looking around the room at African American family members, he suggested that none of them had been born in America, that their birth certificates proved it, and that if they had trouble with what he was saying, they really should just get over it. ‘After all,’ he said, ‘Slavery ended hundreds of years ago. What do you have to be so upset about?’
He moved on to immigrants and refugees. He said that ‘bad hombres’ and terrorists were ‘invading’ the country and that we had to do something to get them all out of America. They were taking all our jobs. They were spreading disease. And why the hell couldn’t they learn English? Uncle Ned found it particularly horrific that voicemail systems kept asking him to ‘press one’ for a Spanish menu. It was a sure sign the world was going to hell in a hand basket. He advocated for a wall to keep people from coming in, and immigration policies that favored nations populated by white, English-speaking people. ‘Why,’ asked Uncle Ned, ‘do we have to keep taking in all these people from s—thole countries? They don’t belong here. Put ‘em in cages!’
By this time, many of the attendees were deeply offended and hurt. But Uncle Ned was just getting started. He began riffing on the mentally and physically handicapped, speaking in a slurred voice and gesticulating with his hands as if he suffered from some type of palsy. Everyone sat in shocked silence as Uncle Ned laughed his way through his routine.
Next came the women. Boy did he have a lot to say about them. I won’t even repeat it. As he made his way around the room, he groped several of the ladies present. He said that he would probably date them if they weren’t his relatives. Their horrified looks and tears meant nothing to him. When some protested, he made demeaning comments about their appearances.
This prompted a response. Uncle Bob, who had served in the military, including time as a prisoner of war, told Uncle Ned he needed to settle down. Ned just laughed in his face. ‘Who the heck are you to talk to me? You think you’re a hero? I prefer heroes who don’t get captured.’
Uncle Ned didn’t stop there. He attacked a nephew who worked for a newspaper, calling him an enemy of the state. He told an LGBT family member he was a disgrace to his family. He called a politically liberal cousin a communist. He said that anyone in the room who disagreed with him was unpatriotic. He proceeded to announce to several present, who apparently worked for Uncle Ned in his business, that they were fired because they hadn’t stood up for him as they should have. He ran about the room like a school yard bully, disparaging everyone.
In my dream I was doing a slow burn all the while. I kept wanting to speak up but for some reason could not (you know, like in those dreams when you are trying to run away from something and can’t move). But finally, I found my voice. I told Uncle Ned to shut up. I told him we had no room in our family for racism, xenophobia, and the rest. I told him that if he couldn’t behave himself and treat people respectfully, he needed to leave immediately.
And that’s when everyone cheered. My entire family, both those who are members of it in real life and those who were just part of it for the dream, chimed in and told Uncle Ned they felt the same way. And when Uncle Ned responded by stating that the Constitution gave him the right to do and say whatever he wanted without fear of repercussion, we somehow collectively grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and threw him out the back door.
I woke with a start. It had only been a dream. But the thought that came to mind was this: of course my family had stood up to Uncle Ned. I mean, seriously, who on earth would ever condone such behavior? What decent person would ever, under any circumstances, defend Uncle Ned? How insane would anyone have to be to support the likes of him?
It was then that I remembered: 46% of America elected him President.
And are poised to do it again.
I tried to go back to the solace of sleep but could not.
Some nightmares are all too real.
Under Christ’s Mercy,
Brent
Photo courtesy of Dyaa Eldin on Unsplash
Fools No More
‘We are fools for Christ, but you are so wise in Christ! We are weak, but you are so strong! You are honored, we are dishonored! To this very hour we go hungry and thirsty, we are in rags, we are brutally treated, we are homeless. We work hard with our own hands. When we are cursed, we bless; when we are persecuted, we endure it; when we are slandered, we answer kindly. We have become the scum of the earth, the garbage of the world – right up to this moment’ – Paul, the Apostle, in 1 Corinthians 4:10-13
Paul just didn’t get it. The church he had helped plant in Corinth had, in his absence, gone off the rails. He had taught them about the folly of the Cross that was in fact the wisdom of God, and still they decided to go in big for something else. The life they were pursuing looked nothing like the life of true discipleship. Paul, as an apostle, a disciple who had been sent to tell others the truth, could not help but draw out the contrast. The Corinthians desired to be seen as wise, strong, and honorable. They yearned for ease, wealth, and power. While the true Jesus followers were mistreated, poorly attired, homeless, and weary from heavy labor. The scum of the earth. The garbage of the world. And yet, when the world treated them as such, they endured. They even blessed their enemies and treated them with kindness. It was as if they expected to be treated poorly. Paul’s point was pretty clear: life as a follower of Jesus wasn’t supposed to be life at the top.
This is what the Corinthians had forgotten.
This may seem an odd segue way, but I was thinking of Paul’s description of true discipleship the other day after finishing the Steven James’ novel Synapse, a story set in a not so distant future in which Artificial Super Intelligence has become a reality. The novel raises ethical questions about AI, questions James wisely leaves lingering for his readers to contemplate on their own. But along the way we are confronted by the thought of what would happen if technology became available to enhance human intelligence. A simple implant in the brain, and suddenly we could be super intelligent, connected to all sorts of digital information, super-human. Who wouldn’t do it? Well, some would not. They would prefer the experience of being natural people. What would become of them? We are left to ponder the possibility that they would become the outcasts of humanity. The scum of the earth. The garbage of the world.
James’ ethical conundrum in turn reminded me of a movie from the 90’s, Gattaca, about a future society where parents can genetically engineer their children to be perfect specimens of humanity, without flaw or defect, handsome, beautiful, able to do great things. Most people go all in. But some opt out. These purists have ‘natural’ children who are less than perfect, even defective. What happens to them? They become the servants, the street-sweepers, the toilet-cleaners, people who do the dirty jobs that the genetically perfect don’t want to do. They live as an under-society in the midst of a ‘great’ society, mostly ignored by the greats. The scum of the earth. The garbage of the world.
I wonder how many Christians today would like it if that’s the way things really were. If we who followed Jesus actually understood that following him meant rejecting the enticing power available from the world. That we didn’t need to play into the power games of the elites. That we were, in fact, supposed to reject the way of power and riches and security in favor of the way of the cross. If we dropped out of our alliances with the empire, alliances that give to us the ability to be rich and secure and safe. If we suddenly became the people everyone else looked down on. Mere servants. If we were mocked and persecuted by those who considered themselves our betters. If we too were seen as the scum of the earth. The garbage of the world.
This may sound as insane to you as Paul’s words may have sounded to the Corinthians. But do you realize that there was a time when such was the lot of the Christian church? I mean, what else can you make of Paul’s description? For the first three centuries of its existence (the most missionally effective in Church history) Christians were despised, and expected to be so. They were the scum of the earth and the garbage of the world, at least in the eyes of the powerful. They were, in those eyes, powerless. And yet…they didn’t feel that way. They knew that despite what the world thought they were in fact powerful. They knew that, as Paul had written earlier in his letter, their foolishness was wiser than human wisdom, and their weakness was stronger than human strength. That their way, Jesus’ way, was the way. The way that led to glory. The way that enabled them to experience God in the midst of the battle of life and the way that would enable them to reign with him in the life of the age to come. This was enough for them. It didn’t matter what the world thought. It didn’t matter if they lacked the world’s power. It didn’t matter if they were made to serve a world that looked down upon them. In fact, that was what they were called to do. And so, they served it. When the world threatened them with hate, they responded with love. When the world cursed them, they offered blessings in return. When the world spoke harshly to them, they responded with kindness. They were even foolish enough to believe that by doing so, they might win some of the world to their side.
Which, of course, they did.
And therein lies the challenge and impotence of the Church today. Certainly in America in the days that are upon us.
For the problem today is that so many in the Church prefer the way of the Corinthians. They crave the ‘synapse,’ the worldly enhancements, that can make them more than mere servants. Don’t believe me? Just turn on the news and you will see it happening. Christians aligning themselves with politicians who promise power, even when doing so means having to ignore just about everything that is true to Jesus. Willing to defend racism, hate, lies, bullying, and misogyny. Willing to overlook, even to deny, gross abuses of power that threaten all that is best about the society they live in. Willing to overlook evidence of such abuse, even when it is as plain as the noses on their faces. Willing to throw away the foolishness of God which is wiser than human wisdom, and the strength of God which is stronger than human strength, to gain the favor of a cruel and brutish king. Willing, for God’s sake, to forsake the call to love and to bless, and instead use the world’s power to crush anyone and everyone who offers so much as a hint of a rumor of a whisper of a threat against them. Willing to classify others as the scum of the earth and the garbage of the world, and to promote policies that put such scum and garbage in their place.
I think this is what bothers me so much about the Trumpian times we live in. I’m not at all thrilled that someone such as he is President. But that shouldn’t really surprise me. A fallen world, you see, will act like a fallen world. Power hungry men and women will from time to time seize the reigns and do terrible, cruel, and heartless things. The Church should of course speak out against such things, should live out an alternative existence that points to another way, but that we should have to should not surprise us at all. Such has always been the way of the fallen world and the calling of the Church within it.
But what does surprise me – although perhaps even this shouldn’t – is when people who are supposed to be following Jesus, who are supposed to be like Paul, who are supposed to live an alternative existence in a mad, mad world, become the supporters and defenders of the madmen who run it.
Something like that was what cut Paul so deeply, what led him to respond to the Corinthians as he did. He saw them beginning a journey that would not end well, and so reminded them of their calling: they were not to live as the ‘wise’ of the world, but as fools. Fools who knew the value of following Jesus, who knew the strength of what the world perceives to be weakness. Fools who understood that to do so was the only way.
But alas, it seems that in today’s Christian world, many have chosen to be fools no more.
Under Christ’s Mercy,
Brent
Jesus Plus People
‘I want to be where the people are’ – Ariel the Little Mermaid
‘I may not know much about God. But I have to say we built a pretty nice cage for him’ – Homer Simpson
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the idolatry of buildings. My wife and I have been binge watching shows on Netflix like Tiny House Nation and Cabins in the Wild. One of the things about Netflix is that when you watch something, you automatically get a slew of recommendations about what to watch next. It comes out under a ‘because you watched,’ heading. Because you watched Tiny House Nation, you might be interested in these shows. ‘These shows’ however, rarely have anything to do with downsizing, or spending time in the great outdoors. I’ve noticed that most of them are about grand designs. Building huge and amazing dwellings in which to live and pamper yourself. Just perusing the titles of these recommended shows gives one the impression that the greatest thing you could ever do is build a grand monument, a place to pour all your money into, a place to make the very essence of your life.
In other words, a god.
This is of course bad enough. But then I get to thinking about church. As a pastor, I live and work in the shadow of a large church building, as many pastors do. There’s nothing really wrong with having a church building, I suppose, but every once in a while I think about how much money it costs to run one. I also think about the reactions I and other pastors get whenever we talk about changing one, or maybe leaving one behind. I mean, I get the whole idea of sentimental attachment to a place, but sometimes it seems as if the most important thing about church is the building. There is some evidence to support that. Studies have shown, over and again, that most faith communities spend far more money on their facilities than they do on mission.
And that doesn’t seem right, does it?
Oh, I know what some of you are thinking. ‘But we have to have a building! How else can we have a church?’ That’s the rationalization we offer to justify ourselves. Trouble is, such thinking runs counter to the whole idea of what church is, or at least what Jesus envisioned church to be.
Jesus experienced church differently. I am currently reading James Martin’s wonderful book Jesus, in which he recounts his visit to the Holy Land. There is much to wonder at in his story. But one thing really hit me. In recounting his visit to Nazareth, the town where Jesus spent the vast majority of his first 30 years (other than the time he spent as a refugee in Egypt), Martin notes that the synagogue building in Nazareth dates to the 4th century. No one has ever found one that dates back to the time of Jesus. In fact, it is unlikely that there was one in the time of Jesus, because towns as small as Nazareth did not generally have synagogue buildings.
And yet we know that Jesus taught in the synagogue in Nazareth. It’s right there in Luke 4 (go ahead, look it up). So it must be the case that archeologists just haven’t discovered it yet. Someday it will turn up.
Such is the power of a preconceived notion. We have been conditioned to picture a building when we think of a church or synagogue. And so, when Jesus preached at the synagogue, we conclude that he must have been standing in one.
But for Jesus, and other first century Jews, synagogue was not a building. It was an assembly of people who gathered to worship God. You didn’t need a building to have a synagogue, all you needed was God plus people.
The synagogue in Nazareth was in all likelihood just that, a gathering of God plus people. A gathering that met, perhaps, in the town square – or better still on a hillside. Nazareth was (and is) a city on a hill, so it is easy to imagine Jesus and his fellow worshipers sitting on the hillside on the Sabbath, listening to the scriptures, praying with one another, listening to the Rabbi’s teaching, even discussing the message and asking questions (interactive learning was big in first century synagogue life). The people would have felt the breezes on their faces and the sun on their backs as they united in their worship of Yahweh.
That’s most likely how we should envision Jesus experiencing church, at least for the first 30 years of his life. Other than the occasional pilgrimage to the Temple in Jerusalem, Jesus worshipped and gathered with God’s people, not in a building, but in the great outdoors. He didn’t need a building. He just needed God and his community.
Jesus didn’t stay in Nazareth however, and once his itinerant ministry began in earnest, he visited many towns and preached in many synagogues. Many of these did have buildings no doubt (although perhaps some did not). That he preached in buildings indicates that there is nothing inherently wrong about having one. But the fact that Jesus did not preach exclusively in buildings should tell us something. In fact, most of Jesus’ teaching took place outside of buildings: on hillsides, on a boat, at the seashore, along the road, in gardens, around dinner tables, and in people’s homes. Even when Jesus taught at the Temple in Jerusalem, he did so in the porticoes and on the Temple steps, the places where people gathered for informal discussions and learning. Jesus didn’t care too much about the place of worship. He just wanted to be where the people were. One place was as good as another for church. All anyone needed to have church was Jesus plus people.
This is not just how Jesus experienced church. It was his vision for the Church. When the Gospel writers wrote of Jesus ‘building his church’ the word they used for church was Ekklesia. Ekklesia does not refer to a building or network of buildings. It means assembly, or gathering. It is the same concept as the synagogue –a gathering of people who worship God through the study of scripture, prayer, learning and discussion. You don’t need a building to have Ekklesia, any more than you needed one for a synagogue. In the early days of the church, followers of Jesus understood this. If you flip through the pages of Acts, you will find Jesus’ followers worshipping in homes, lecture halls, porticoes, steps, ships and riversides. The early followers of Jesus were flexible, and understood that as a result of Jesus’ saving work, you didn’t need a Temple. Everywhere was a holy place. All you needed was Jesus plus people.
I wonder how the followers of Jesus ever lost their way on that one. I suppose that’s a long tale that weaves its way through history. But the bottom line is that today, so many have lost their way. The word church is synonymous with a building. Church has therefore become an inflexible, stationary sort of enterprise. We pour our money, not into reaching people for Jesus, but in upgrading our facilities. We no longer go where the people are. We wait for them to come to us.
It truly is amazing. Jesus began his church experiences out in the open, with people all around him, visible for all to see, under the canopy of God’s blue sky. But we no longer do things like that. We don’t enjoy God’s creation when we worship. We no longer go where the people are to pray and read and discuss. We hide ourselves behind walls. Walls! And then we wonder why people don’t come inside of them.
Maybe it’s time we got back to Jesus, to his experience and vision. Maybe it’s time to move out of our buildings. Into the community. Onto the hillsides. Maybe it’s time to worship God outdoors, with the sun and wind in our faces. Or under the stars on clear nights, where we can take in the wonder of creation. Or in the coffee shops, libraries, diners, town squares, front porches, riversides, and other out in the open places. Maybe it’s time to act on the Biblical truth that church isn’t a building you maintain. It’s a gathering. It’s a lifestyle. And it is most effective when it is practiced outside the cages we have built for God. It is most effective when it is practiced where the people are.
All you need for church is Jesus plus people. Most of the time, the building just gets in the way.
Maybe it’s time we remembered that.
Under Christ’s Mercy,
Brent