Truth

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A handful of quietness

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A handful of quietness

A handful of quietness.

It sounds like the title of a novel you found at your local Christian bookstore, doesn’t it? Or maybe just somebody’s desperate cry for peace after a busy day.

It is in fact a Bible verse. The full verse reads like this: “Better is a handful of quietness than two hands full of toil and a striving after wind.” It goes on to talk about the futility of a man who keeps on working harder and harder in order to amass more and more riches, but has no heir to pass them on to.

There's a lots of interesting things in Ecclesiastes, and you really have to study up on the background to understand it properly. But there’s gold in it if you look.

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Joinings of the Lord

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Joinings of the Lord

Joinings of the Lord. My friend Art Good used to use that phrase all the time. You could dress up the language a bit to express what he meant, but I think he got it just right.

A joining of the Lord takes place in that moment where you realize God has brought you and someone else together to partner in relationship toward the advancement of his kingdom. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? But I think most people miss it.

And here’s the reason. Our culture is very shallow, a mile wide and an inch deep. It’s not easy for most of us to develop depth in relationship. We prefer to keep our distance. And that attitude seeps into the church.

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On being radical

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On being radical

A good friend of ours, a respected psychotherapist, was conducting a seminar recently when she was interrupted by (supposedly Christian) hecklers objecting to the Biblical view of gender and sexuality she was presenting. With great presence of mind, she steered her way through the storm and landed her plane safely and with grace. 

This is my question. On that occasion, who were the radicals and who were the traditionalists? The answer may not be as obvious as it seems. 

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Lost in translation

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Lost in translation

As we entered the British Museum in London, we noticed a large group of people crowded around a display holding up their cameras. We had seen the same phenomenon in the Louvre in Paris. There it was the Venus de Milo, whose one arm was just about visible above the cluster of cameras. Here it was the Rosetta Stone.

I don’t really think many of the onlookers fully understood what it was, and they certainly weren’t taking time to read the carefully written notice beside it.

The Rosetta Stone was discovered by the French in 1799, but repossessed by the British shortly after and carried off to London. It has been in the British Museum since 1802, where it is the most visited display, to which we can indeed bear witness.

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Can we hear from God?

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Can we hear from God?

“The testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.” So says the angel to the apostle John. What this means, according to G.K. Beale, the greatest living interpreter of the last book of the Bible, is that we are a prophetic people.

But how are we to understand this?

To be prophetic means to speak forth God’s word. That in turn implies the capability to hear and understand that word. To be a prophetic people, therefore, has to mean we are a people who can hear God.

This kind of statement often brings controversy and conjures up visions of slightly odd individuals saying strange things and claiming to have a pipeline to heaven which no one else can contradict.