At various times of crisis in my life I have struggled with anger and bitterness. It’s not hard to feel that people have treated us wrongly, if only because people are imperfect.

It usually takes us by complete surprise when someone tells us we have hurt them, so we shouldn’t be surprised when we feel injured and no one steps up to the plate to apologize. It’s the blindness of human nature. As much as some people insist Christians should only call themselves saints and never redeemed sinners, redeemed sinners is what saints really are. I like the way John Newton put it: “I am a great sinner, but Christ is a great Saviour.”

These last months have been a massive test for all of us. Our apple carts have been overturned, and the end is not quite yet in sight.

As Christians, we understand that we live in a fallen world in which the presence of sin and evil is our fault, not God’s. We let the enemy in and must suffer the consequences

It is a clear Biblical truth that those who preach the Gospel should be properly compensated for doing so, and particularly if the demands on their time exclude the possibility of pursuing other lines of work. There are millions of pastors in the world today, and exceedingly few of them have an abundance of worldly riches.

I have been thinking a lot lately about doors.

Not front doors or back doors, but open doors and closed doors.

Jesus said to a downtrodden but faithful church, “I have set before you an open door, which no one is able to shut.” He added that he “has the key of David, who opens and no one will shut, who shuts and no one opens.”

Prayer is one of the great mysteries of the Christian faith. In part, this is understandable. How is it that the God of the universe could be moved by prayers offered by ordinary people hardly known outside their own neighborhood? And yet he is, for surely that is the meaning of the parable of the widow and the unjust judge