“And they are there to this day.” (Joshua 4:9)
My new book, Jesus: His Story In Stone, could be described as an illustrated biography of Jesus. It presents, in chronological order, seventy significant events of the gospel narrative, bringing them to life though photographs and word-pictures of stones that Jesus may have touched, walked on, or seen with His own eyes.
On the night before He died Jesus told His disciples, “I will not speak with you much longer, for the prince of this world is coming” (Jn 14:30).
Last week the world was shocked to learn that the co-pilot of a German airliner had deliberately crashed his plane into the French Alps, killing all 150 people aboard.
In February the Supreme Court of Canada decided unanimously in favor of the right to physician-assisted suicide. The Court has ordered the federal government to pass legislation to this effect within one year, being careful to stipulate that physicians should not be required to adminster death on demand.
For many years as a Christian, occasionally the thought would cross my mind, I’m tired of always being hitched to God. How would it be if I didn’t have to worry about Him but could just do things on my own? Natrually I’d try to banish this thought, but sometimes it would linger a little longer than you might expect in a believer who truly loved his Lord.
I ended last week with a bald statement that to stop fighting with my spouse, I must arrive at the conclusion that every fight is entirely my fault, and accordingly it is up to me to achieve a peaceful relationship.
So far I’ve offered some practical tips on how to end marital disputes. But advice is cheap, so let’s cut to the chase. As with everything in the Christian life, quitting fighting is not fundamentally a matter of doing anything but of having a realization.
Two monks had lived for many years in the desert. One day one was summoned to the city to meet with his bishop. While there, he happened to witness a noisy dispute between two people in the street.
My book The Mystery of Marriage was published exactly thirty years ago. Since then I’ve written about marriage only once, to add a new chapter on “Oneness” to the twentieth anniversary edition. Now, for the thirtieth anniversary, some notes toward another new chapter. This is the first of a five-part series on renouncing marital strife.
A friend who appreciates my books once told me, “What I love about your writing is its quality of ordinariness.” He went on to elaborate, but unfortunately I missed all he said because I was so struck by that one word: ordinariness. I knew exactly what he meant, and rather than being offended, I was deeply flattered.
The Gospel According To Job is a book that grew out of a time of deep depression in my life. It took five years to write, and it came as a great surprise when at the end of that time I was more depressed than ever!