A preacher colleague of mine messaged me on Facebook this week. He wanted to tell me I was on a list of people who have not claimed their big check from Such-and-Such Government Agency. After discovering that he did not know two of his own daughters, confirming my suspicions of a hack, I told him I had reported him to Facebook.
So-called faith healers insist that the faith of the one being healed is essential for the success of the healing. The Bible does not support that assertion. In fact, Luke 9:38-42 indicates that it is the healer’s faith, not the faith of the one healed, that is essential. The disciples did not have sufficient faith to cast out the demon; the faith of the demoniac and/or his father is not discussed.
I’m pretty sure I lost my reading glasses this week while running through a parking lot in the rain. Anyway, I had the glasses, then I ran through the rain, then at some point later I didn’t have my glasses. Such things happen, I suppose. And as long as I can get an article out of it, I suppose I can survive.
During a search for activities in the Dallas-Fort Worth area that might not appeal to my mother-in-law (just joking, Ginny!), I stumbled across the website of the Museum for Biblical Art. I like art, and I love the Bible. So I figured checking it out for free might convince me to spend $15 to see it in person. Verdict: probably, assuming Tracie can be convinced.
One part I found a bit perplexing, though, is an outdoor exhibit called “The Spirit of Abstraction.”
In The Corporate Coach by James B. Miller, a book on my shelf that is left over from a long-abandoned career in sales management, James Miller discusses the role of “the twitch in your elbow” while interviewing job applicants. Gut instinct, we might say. And a big part of that, he says, is the commitment the applicant shows toward other activities. If he’s a scratch golfer, he didn’t get there just with 18 holes on Saturday. Maybe he’ll cut out of work early some days. If he’s out on his boat every weekend, who’s to say he won’t miss a few Monday mornings?
Commitment is a character trait not everyone has. It is to be admired.
Rabbits and eggs are in great abundance this time of year. And anyone who knows anything about the history of Easter knows why. They are symbols of fertility. The spring equinox has always been celebrated as the time that the earth is in full recovery from winter. The earth has come back from the dead, as it were. The pagans, who saw the earth as an entity to be worshiped, turned the equinox into an opportunity for revelry — and, typically, debauchery. (Children, if you don’t know what “fertility” and “debauchery” mean, ask your parents.) The Catholic church incorporated local pagan worship traditions as it spread throughout Europe many centuries ago. Thus, the celebration of the rebirth of the earth became the celebration of the risen Lord. (The Greek word in Acts 12:4 rendered “Easter” by the King James Version translators is the same word rendered “Passover” every other time it occurs.)
Personally, I like rabbits. And I absolutely love eggs.
Hospitals across the country are retheming after a recent study unearthed a startling fact. Of 250 children surveyed, exactly 250 of them expressed an aversion or out-and-out fear of clowns. I suppose a generation of administrators raised on Bozo and Ronald McDonald were slow to realize that garishly painted faces were just about the last thing children wanted to see when they were already scared out of their minds.
Some people have five talents. They have all the skill, all the charisma, all the opportunities. It seems as though service in Jesus’ kingdom comes naturally to them. We are not surprised to hear when they have done great things in His name. We expect it out of five-talent people
Some people have two talents. They are not as privileged as the five-talent people, obviously. But we still admire them. They get the most out of what they have. They do not envy the five-talent people for their success and the glory that comes with success. They just do their job and do it well. Sometimes they even wake up to find they have become five-talent people themselves. And good for them. Good for us. And then there are those with only one talent.
It seems to me that “cultural appropriation” only becomes problematical if the “culture” being appropriated is associated generally with people of color. (White, by the way, is a color. The Crayola people say so, anyway. And the pale orange-peach tone that accurately defines the skin of this “white person” is a color, too. But I digress.)
The advent of the new year is all about hope. We hope the good things we have experienced in the outgoing year will continue and increase. We hope the bad things we have experienced will diminish or disappear.
But hoping is far different from wishing.