They went to a place called Gethsemane; and Jesus said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” He took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be distressed and agitated. And said to them, “I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.” And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. He...
QUEEN “Thou know’st tis common, all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity” HAMLET Ay, madam, it is common. Hamlet, Act I, Scene II As Hamlet reflects upon the death of his father, he mourns the brevity of life and the painful triviality of death. We too feel this as we survey what has befallen Paris, Bamako, Brussels, Ankara and Istanbul. These cities and their citizens felt the unnatural commonness of death. ISIS...
Yesterday we celebrated Palm Sunday as the start of the Holy Week. As I was listening to the message at my church, I reflected on the speaker, Chad Glazener’s, comment to not move too quickly through the different events of Holy Week. Often times, we want to rush into the celebration of Easter, that we don’t give the space to reflect on the events leading up to it, such as Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem,...
It was Easter Sunday in 1972. My grandfather was preparing to sing an Easter cantata with his church choir when he suffered a stroke and collapsed. On the following Sunday, he went to be with the Lord. I never met my grandfather, but I’ve heard countless stories from my mother about what a wonderful man he was, full of joy, gentle-natured and filled with the love of his Savior. Four years ago, on the night...
I have been waiting to review one of my favorite movies from 2012 for quite some time, Cabin in the Woods. As soon as I saw it I knew I needed to blog about it, and more importantly, I knew I needed to review it this week—Holy week. Perhaps you’re thinking, this is totally random; why is he reviewing a movie from last year during a time when he should be reflecting on things like...
The boy knew about blood. A sign of sacrifice, it flowed through every festival and feast. His people saw the power and the promise in those streams, the blood of beasts. But when, amid the yearly plans, the old recurring rites, did he learn he was the Lamb? Maybe when his mother told him tales of men who sprinkled drops across the veil. Or when he saw the stains beneath the fingernails...
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