Worth A Thousand Pictures

I'm not sure why I went. Hope I never have to go again. But I probably will. And I definitely would. I'm not a joiner, by nature. Not gregarious, not especially patriotic and probably busier than God, but I walk to the overpass north of my house to see the fallen soldier's motorcade drive by on the 401. No expectations, but I'm surprised by the 40 people already there at 8:15. That was the time we'd been told the plane was expected at Trenton CFB. Then there'll be about a half hour for the ramp ceremony before the limos start their trip to Toronto. But we've all learned that the times can change without notice and it's better to be too early than too late. There are already large flags hanging over the railing, already cars on the 401 below honking and flashing their lights, big rigs as well. Every now and then somebody in a passenger seat takes our picture. I wonder what they think they're taking a picture of. Probably not a wake. As the crowd on...

Robert Webber has been a brilliant and insightful apologist for worship and all it is meant to be. His books and columns have inspired worship leaders and worshipers alike to a deeper understanding of who we are and what we are called to. I am far from the only one who is left with a debt of gratitude for books like "Worship Is A Verb". Ours is a great loss and he will be missed. The following is an e-mail release that came this afternoon: Dear friends, Bob Webber died Friday at 6:10 PM (Eastern time) in his wife, Joanne's arms, after his 8 month battle with pancreatic cancer. A public memorial service in the Chicago-area is being planned, details will be posted on Northern Seminary's website: www.seminary.edu. Please keep Joanne and the family in your prayers. "Depart, O Christian soul, out of this world; in the name of God the Father Almighty who created you; in the name of Jesus Christ who redeemed you; in the name of the Holy Spirit who sanctifies ...

Is it just me, or is there an increase in pathetic misquoting of scripture out there? Has it always been this bad? Have I just never noticed? It started last Christmas when a Christian friend sent us an e-card. The scripture on the card was " He was a lamp that burned and gave light, and you chose for a time to enjoy his light". (John 5:35). Very nice, except that it's Christmas and the verse is talking about John the Baptist. Next, there was a Christian giftware company that distributed a line of gifts bearing the verse "...You have blessed the work of his hands..." (Job 2:10). Also very nice, but it's Satan talking and he's dissing Job. Do you want that hanging on your wall? Then I heard a prominent TV pastor quote the verse , " This day I call heaven and earth as witnesses that I have set before you life and prosperity... Now choose life" (Deuteronomy 30:19) You can look that one up for yourself. I just get mad. Today I picked up a flyer fr...

I'm writing this on my son's machine because ours is still under the patient ministrations of Clair at StarTek. He says he can get it to work and if not, he'll shoot it. That I'd rather do myself. We had Windows 2000 installed on the old beast to give it a new lease on life and somewhere something went wrong and it got stuck in a loop. It would run through all of the startup routines and get to the point where you could see the windows at the end of the tunnel. Then it would start over again. It was maddening. You'd get so close , then... nothing. Back to where you started. We've been going to a church for about a year now that we really love. Great teaching, very cool people. A very warm and welcoming congregation of people who love God. So this Sunday, we started a new teaching series built around Bill Hybels' new book, Just Walk Across the Room, which I highly recommend. It's all about taking the small steps toward people who we don't know. Taki...

Why did it have to be at the top of a mountain on a hot day, carrying all that wood? His father wasn’t young anymore (had he ever been?) so Isaac took the load of wood himself. Abraham went ahead, finding the path, carrying the fire for the altar. This was a long, long way to come to make a sacrifice. Isaac had seen his father make sacrifices to his god before, and it was always the same. He’d build an altar, stone on stone ‘till it was right, lay it with wood – first the tinder, then the kindling, then the fuel. He’d choose the very best lamb he could find, sometimes that took hours, talking to the shepherds, looking at hooves and skin. If he couldn’t find the one he wanted, he’d buy one from a neighbour. That could take a day or two. Once he’d found the one he wanted, he’d tie its legs with rope, lay it on the altar. He’d cut the lamb’s throat quickly so it wouldn’t suffer and light the fire. A complete waste, except it wasn’t. It was a gift, a symbol of...

Until recently (in heart-time, if not calendar-time) I was very involved in a church that pursued the “seeker sensitive” model of worship. We spent many volunteer hours each week talking and e-mailing and meeting to plan services that would connect with the “unchurched” (assuming, of course, they chose to sacrifice their Sunday morning to darken our door). We cared (and I’m sure they still do) very much that we not miss our possibly only opportunity to communicate God’s love to just one of these folks. We prayed and worked until 2:30 am on Powerpoint and song arrangements and skits and talked endlessly about how to make our ‘transitions’ better, so as not to be a distraction to what the Spirit might be doing. How can we be non-threatening? How can we engage their emotions? How can we welcome them, without being in their faces? We talked of excellence and building community and “worship”. We went to conferences, purportedly to “team-build”, but effectively to steal a few ideas that we c...

Noah was the last one out. The last person, anyway. The animals were all still there, behind him in the ark, restless, smelling the fresh air and seeing the full light for the first time in a year. (A whole year! Gone.) There was a lot of work to be done, bringing them out and sending them on their way. They’d need to build corrals and cages out here for some - goats, sheep, camels, rabbits, birds. They’d want to take them along when they set out for home. God would look after the rest. He’d never been up a mountain before. He was a farmer, after all. From up here, it looked like the world went on forever. Maybe this is what God sees. He thought he had a rough idea of where they were and figured that if they set out that way and followed that ridge they should come to the big river, if it was still a river… He felt that old familiar wrench. What would the world be now? What about his house, that he’d built of mud bricks, room by room, with his own hands, and helped by his...