Why Wasn’t the Resurrection More Public?
If resurrection is the basis of Christian faith, why didn’t Jesus display himself more publicly afterwards? And wouldn’t a more public ascension have made matters easier for doubting believers?
If resurrection is the basis of Christian faith, why didn’t Jesus display himself more publicly afterwards? And wouldn’t a more public ascension have made matters easier for doubting believers?
In discussion about ‘conversion therapy’, I have previously commented that, “if someone believes that their physical form is meant to reflect God’s purpose for their life: then it is necessary to start asking some much deeper questions about the relationship between real love and sexual attraction.” This article delves more deeply into these issues.
This is the first ever posting in the ‘Rantings’ category; and I did not expect to be the one making it! But the urgent and short-term nature of the topic, coupled with its contentious nature, persuaded me that this was the most appropriate place for such a discussion.
One major puzzle concerning John’s Gospel is that — despite giving a lengthy account of the after-dinner conversation on the night of his betrayal — he doesn’t mention Jesus’ words during supper about the bread and wine. Why is this?
Luke 4:18 describes Jesus’ reading of Isaiah 61:1-2 in the Synagogue at Nazareth. But what has puzzled many is that there appear to be two versions of Luke 4:18 — and neither exactly matches Isaiah’s prophecy. Vendar, there is a simple explanation …
Most Christians are surprised to learn that there are two distinct versions of the Acts of the Apostles. But before anyone gets into a panic about this, let me explain…
Could the woman described in the Song of Solomon really be the Queen of Sheba?
The ‘Tappuach’ is a fruit or tree mentioned 6 times in the old Testament and normally translated ‘apple:’ but botanists and linguists dispute it. This article reviews the latest evidence to explain why, in my book ‘Transformed by Love,’ I opt for ‘apricot.’
Not a discussion of Aesop’s fable: but a Jewish proverb complaining that God makes children suffer for the sins of their parents. Could a loving God really do such a thing?
Sometimes a father with an unruly child, a child that terrorizes the other children, must take strong action to stop the terror. Do you think God faces the same dilemma with us? How might those actions of defense play out? Does love, sometimes by necessity, take on a severe face?