Today many Walla Walla people of faith celebrate Easter and Passover. All of us reflect on our relationship with God the Creator, deepening our memory of how we are connected to that source of life and godliness, and looking ahead to how that memory can strengthen us in the coming months.
A mother whose son fell through the ice and drowned does not soon write a song. She does not smile sweetly at a surviving child when her soul is wracked with grief. She may reach for her other child’s hand, but she is not pretending a strength she does not own. A man whose wife died of pneumonia cannot sing at her funeral.
This is certainly one of the most beautiful times of the year to be in one of the most beautiful places. The Walla Walla Valley is blooming on every corner. Every day it seems as though a new tree or flower wakes up and begins to bloom.
As we approach Easter, there will be a lot of talk about redemption, but what does redemption mean?
Much has been written in the past few years about the massive cultural shift in the United States today. Headlining that writing is that “Christendom” is dead or dying. The “post-Christian” era that replaces it is characterized by a secular value system, which tells us “all truth is relative and all forms of faith are equal.” In other words, we are told “what works for you may not work for someone else but as long as it works for you it is fine.”
I was a little suspect when Larry suggested we trade bikes for the ride. But, I agreed, not giving it enough thought. It wasn’t until I began to pick up speed going downhill and had tapped on his brakes that I realized why he wanted to trade. The brakes didn’t work.
Three young men have been summoned to appear before the most powerful man on the planet. They are guilty of refusing to obey that man’s command: to bow in worship before a great golden image he has erected.
Some time ago there was a popular bumper sticker that read, “He who dies with the most toys wins.” Although this may represent the measure of a successful life for some, I recently had an experience that helped me understand that there is, perhaps, a better measure of success.
The doctor was confused. After explaining to his little patient the general details of the heart surgery she was to have the next day, she said, “And when you do my heart, you’ll find Jesus there.”
t’s Black History Month, a time when we think about a huge group of immigrants who came here — not to improve their own lives, but those of others — because they came as slaves. Watching the movie, “Twelve Years a Slave,” provoked a lot of pondering for me. One man works 12 years and gains nothing personally for his time and labor. Although he is freed at the end of his story, millions of others never were. Their entire labor went to enrich people who considered them property. For some descendants of
In the deepest part of me I know that unless repentance comes to America, we will bitterly reap what we’ve sown.
My life is richer for having known Bob Passantino. He understood people as well as arguments. When a woman became a Christian, her husband mocked her and said she was stupid because “God cannot exist.” Instead of arguing, she asked him to visit with Bob. Bob listened to his arguments for atheism, and realized the man was poorly read. He said, “There are better ways to argue for atheism. Let me help you improve your arguments.” .
In a recent letter to the editor, a writer declared he would not want to believe in a God “who threatens eternal punishment for anyone who questions the dogmas and tenets of the religion.” And if “eternal punishment” implies being tormented in an eternally burning hell, I heartily agree. Neither could I love and worship a God like that
How do we see each other? I’ve been pondering this, in view of the parable that Jesus told about the Pharisee and the tax collector, who were praying in the same place, but not together.
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