Sunday, March 31, 2013

Happy Resurrection Sunday

I hope you all had a meaningful Resurrection Sunday, spending it with your loved ones. After an excellent church service, Alyssa and I returned home and spent the rest of the day watching M*A*S*H, doing homework, and eating veggie soup.

I'm currently leading an adult Sunday school class at my church, Rainbow Mennonite, using Jonathan Pennington's Reading the Gospels Wisely (Baker: 2012) as a textbook. This week, we discussed Chapter 4, "The Joy and Angst of Having Four Gospels," in which Pennington notes the difficulties of having four conflicting accounts of the same historical events. Since the earliest years of the faith, Christians have instinctively attempted to harmonize the differences among the Gospels, leading to some pretty wacky interpretive shenanigans. Appropriately, today we spent a good chunk of our time discussing differences among the varying accounts of the resurrection of Jesus. In Chapter 4, Pennington devotes a bit of space toward discussing what he calls the "Maximalist Harmonization" perspective, which holds that everything in the Gospels happened exactly the way it was reported; the trouble here, Pennington notes, is that it creates a lot of undue stress on the text to be solved into a workable narrative. For instance, what do Maximalist Harmonizers do with the different order of Jesus' temptations in the wilderness in Matthew and Luke? Are we to conclude that Jesus was tempted the same way multiple times in various orders? Probably not.
using Jonathan Pennington's

To illustrate the difficulty with harmonizing narratives, I brought in a copy of the brief Gospel harmony that I wrote using the various resurrection narratives for a class I took on resurrection in the New Testament last fall. The students were given the task of making the details of the resurrection in Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Acts, and 1 Corinthians fit together in a reasonable and discernible way—a more difficult assignment that it appears on the surface. For instance, how many angels are at the tomb, and where are they located? Is the tomb sealed, or is it open when the women arrive? Are there multiple women, or just Mary the Magdalene? Following the resurrection, does Jesus ascend that same day (as in Luke), or does he ascend forty days later (as in Acts)? Depending on which book you read, each of the answers to these questions is different. The professor teaching my resurrection class gave us this assignment not to suggest that harmonization is the best way of interpreting the scriptures, but to illustrate how different the scriptures really are. So you may notice in the narrative below that I had to do some interpretive gymnastics to get everything to "fit" right.

Despite the numerous conflicting details of the resurrection narratives (even the accounts in Luke and Acts disagree with one another, and they're written by the same person!), they all agree on two important parts: 1) The event of the resurrection was discovered by women, who were not considered reliable witnesses at the time; and 2) The tomb is empty.

The Resurrection of Jesus
(a harmony narrative)

Late in the evening, when the Sabbath had ended, the women who had followed Jesus left the disciples and went to the market to purchase spices with which to anoint the Lord for burial. Among them were Mary the Magdalene, Mary (the mother of James), Salome, and Joanna. Early the following morning—the third day after Jesus’s death on the cross—they arose, dressed, and left their homes to prepare the body. They arrived at the tomb just before dawn, as the sun was beginning to rise, bringing with it the light of a new day. As they were nearing the garden, the women began to whisper to each other, “How will we move the heavy stone that seals the tomb?”
Suddenly, the earth trembled, and the massive stone rolled away from the entrance! A blinding light ripped the heavens open, and when the women could see clearly once again they noticed that the tomb was empty, and two men dressed in white were before them. One was seated atop the stone, while the other stood in the entrance of the tomb, not far from where Jesus’s body should have been lying. The guards who had been placed at the entrance shuddered fearfully and collapsed in a dead faint.
“Do not be afraid!” the man seated on the stone outside told the women. “You are searching for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified.”
“But why do you seek the living among the dead?” asked the second man from within. “He is not here. See?” He pointed to the place where the body of Jesus was supposed to be. The linen wrappings used to dress the corpse were neatly folded on the stone bench. “He is risen from the dead, just as he told you would happen! Now go and tell Peter and the other disciples what you have seen.” When they had finished saying these things, they vanished as suddenly as they had appeared.
Out of fear, Mary (the mother of James), Salome, and Joanna fled from the tomb, telling no one of what they had seen because they were so terrified. Only Mary the Magdalene remained behind, kneeling by the stone, weeping.
Suddenly, Jesus appeared, standing behind her. “Why are you crying?” he asked. “Because,” she answered him, thinking he was the gardener, “someone has taken the body of my Lord, and I don’t know where they have put him. If you have taken him, please tell me where you have put his body, and I will go and retrieve it.”
Jesus looked at her calmly and uttered her name: “Mary.”
Turning to look at him, Mary suddenly realized who he was, and cried out “Rabboni!” (which means “teacher”).
“Do not hold onto me,” he said, “For I have not yet gone to be with the Father. Instead, go and tell my brothers and sisters that ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ Go! Run!”
And so Mary the Magdalene ran as fast as she could with a message on her lips: “I have seen the Lord!”
Just then, the guards awoke from their stupor and beheld the dead man, alive again. Frightened beyond measure, they ran into the city and told the religious officials what they had seen. Disturbed by this news, a meeting of the elders was called, and the guards were summoned and given a large bribe. “You must tell no one of what you have seen,” the elders said. “If anyone asks, you must say that the disciples of that Nazarene came in the night and stole his body away. If the governor hears about it, we will corroborate your story.” So this is what they did, and it is a story that many continue to spread to this day.
Meanwhile, as Mary (the mother of James), Salome, and Joanna fearfully made their way down the road, Jesus appeared to them. “Peace be with you!” he said. When they realized that what the men at the tomb had said was indeed true, they fell down at his feet and worshiped him. “Do not be afraid!” he said. “Go and tell my brothers and sisters that you have seen me.” And with that, they joyfully headed by way of the Mount of Olives to Jerusalem, where the rest of the disciples were staying.
When Mary the Magdalene arrived, she could barely contain her excitement. “I have seen the Lord!” she exclaimed. Just then, the rest of the women arrived with the same message. But this news sounded like nonsense to the disciples. However, Peter and another disciple were curious, and jumped up and ran to the tomb to see if what the women had said was true. The other disciple outran Peter and arrived at the tomb first, but did not go inside. Peter, however, ran inside, and they both saw the empty folded linens resting on the spot where Jesus’s body had been laid. Then they both believed, for until then they hadn’t understood that in order to fulfill the Scriptures Jesus had to rise from the dead. After this, they returned home, puzzling over the mystery they had just witnessed.
Later that same day, two of Jesus’s followers were traveling along the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus. Jesus joined them and appeared to them as a stranger, and as they discussed the events of the previous week, he began to point to all of the places in Scripture concerning himself—throughout Moses and the prophets. As it was getting late, the travelers invited Jesus to stay the night with them. When they sat down to eat, Jesus broke the bread, and suddenly their eyes were opened and they realized who he was—but he vanished! “Did not our hearts burn within us as he talked with us on the road?” they said, and immediately set out for Jerusalem to tell the other disciples all that they had seen.
That night, the rest of the disciples were meeting behind locked doors for fear of the religious authorities. Suddenly, Jesus appeared among them and said “Peace be with you!” But the disciples were terrified, thinking they were seeing a ghost. Jesus said again, “Peace be with you! Why are you afraid? It’s me! Look at my hands and feet. You can see that I am real, not a ghost; ghosts do not have bodies as I do.” They stood staring at him in joy and wonder, and he asked, “Do you have anything to eat?” So they brought him a broiled fish and watched as he ate. After eating, he told them, “My Father has sent me, and so I am sending you. Receive my spirit.” Saying this, he breathed on them, and added, “If you forgive anyone’s sins, they are forgiven. If you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.” And he left them.
Later, Thomas (called the Twin) joined them. “We have seen the Lord!” the disciples cried. But Thomas did not believe them.
“Unless I touch the nail wounds in his hands and the wound in his side I will not believe it.”
A little over a week later, Jesus appeared again to the disciples. This time, Thomas was with them. “Peace be with you,” he said. Then, turning to Thomas, he said, “Here. Touch my wounds. Don’t be faithless any longer. Believe!”
“My Lord and my God!” Thomas exclaimed.
“You believe because you have seen me, but blessed are those who believe without seeing,” Jesus said.
After spending the night with Peter and the rest of the disciples, Jesus spent the next few weeks in Jerusalem—forty days in all—and was later seen by at least five hundred of his followers at once, followed by James and the rest of the apostles. Afterward, he led them to a hillside outside the city and said to them, “Do not leave Jerusalem until the Father sends you the gift that he promised you. John baptized with water, but in just a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit. And you will be my witnesses, telling everyone about me throughout Jerusalem, Galilee, Samaria, and the ends of the earth, giving them this message: there is forgiveness of sins for all who repent. Now go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. And know this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” And with that, he blessed them, and as he was blessing them he was taken up into the clouds and disappeared from sight.
As the disciples stood there, straining their necks to see, two men dressed in white appeared behind them. “You Galileans!” they said, “Why are you staring up into heaven? Jesus has been taken up to the Father, and some day he will return to you in the same way you saw him go.” With that, they returned to Jerusalem, and they were continually in the Temple, praising God.

Friday, March 29, 2013

Good Friday Breakfast and Liturgy (Photos)

Today we had the largest crowd ever at our annual Good Friday breakfast and liturgy. Unfortunately, it was also the smallest living space we've been in for several years, so it was kind of a tight fit—but we made it work! We had 17 total, all coming from different circles of our lives: some from seminary, some from church, some friends from a local intentional community. Many of them were strangers to one another before eating together this morning.

Good Friday is perhaps the one point on the Christian calendar that does not look forwards or backwards, but just is. Following his crucifixion, death, and being placed in the tomb, Jesus—presumably—is just a corpse. Dead, rotting flesh. The gravity of this holy day rests on those caught in a static aftermath of a failed movement. What is a disciple to do now? With our messiah dead and buried, we now only have each other. So Good Friday is a time of communal interdependence. For this very reason, no one should ever be alone on this day.

Anyway, here's some pictures.

Happy Birthday to Everyday Revolutionary

In addition to being one of my favorite holy days on the Church calendar, today also happens to mark the third full year of this blog's existence. It just doesn't seem like I've been posting for that long. Three years ago today, I made my first post as the Everyday Revolutionary—that post was a paper I wrote for an undergraduate course on the life of Christ. The paper was entitled, "Scandalous Blessings: The Beatitudes of Jesus in the Gospel of Luke." Back then I leaned way too heavily on John Dominic Crossan.

In the time since that post found its way onto the internet, I have gotten married, moved three times, held seven different jobs (not all at once), somehow managed to wind my way into a third year of seminary studies, changed grad programs, traveled to Thailand, Burma, and Israel, meandered my way to the edge of atheism's abyss and haphazardly wandered back to faith.

All in all, not a bad run so far.

By the way, this post came very close to marking another milestone for EverydayRev: I am only a few posts shy of completing my 200th. I know it's not much compared to some of the other heavy hitters out there (I'm looking at you, Joel Watts and Brian LePort), but it's a milestone, nonetheless. It would have been nice for Good Friday, the blog's third anniversary, and my 200th post to have all coincided, but I'm pretty satisfied as it is.

For those of you who've been reading since the beginning: Thank you.

For those who are just now tuning in: Thank you, too.

A Blessed Good Friday to You

I hope you all have a blessed Good Friday this year. For many years now (I think as early as 2008), I have hosted a Good Friday breakfast and liturgy, serving homemade hot cross buns and coffee/tea to anyone I happen to be in a community with when Holy Week rolls around. For the last two years (three, if you count this year), I've made an effort to post a blog or two with some reflection on the meaning of Holy Week. Below, I have compiled all of my posts dealing with topics related to Jesus' last week. For a full explanation of how our little Good Friday breakfast tradition came to be, see Everyday Revo-Lectionary 10/9.

Finally, for what it's worth, I will not be posting anything tomorrow (Saturday, March 30) in observance of Holy Saturday, the first full day Jesus spent in the tomb.

Much love and peace to you all. 

Thursday, March 28, 2013

A Maundy Thursday Tradition

Alyssa and I are currently sitting down to watch Martin Scorcese's The Last Temptation of Christ. Far and away the best Jesus movie ever made. Hands down.

It's the only film depiction of Jesus that I've ever seen that shows a struggling Jesus, and evolving Jesus. And frankly, a crazy Jesus. The Christ of this film adaptation of Nikos Kazantzakis' classic novel is a human with a divine purpose. A political and spiritual radical who defies public expectation—a far cry from the standard docile depiction of Jesus in most Christian films.

The Music the Pope Doesn't Want You To Hear

Okay, so technically it's music that 17th-century Pope Urban VIII didn't want you to hear. Gregorio Allegri's Miserere was Urban VIII's jam—one of the most beautiful pieces of choral music ever composed. The pope loved the piece so much, in fact, that he banned it from being performed anywhere but the Sistine Chapel during Holy Week, punishable by excommunication.

The story goes that a young Mozart heard the piece in Rome in the late 18th century, and was so moved that he returned home and transcribed the entire piece from memory.

The Latin text comes from Psalm 51:
Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your steadfast love;
according to your abundant mercy
blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
and cleanse me from my sin.
To learn more about the piece, check out NPR's 2008 story, "Choral Music for Palm Sunday: Miserere."

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

New Post(s) at Near Emmaus

My latest couple of posts at Near Emmaus chronicle my experience at the Central States Society of Biblical Literature/ASOR regional meeting last week in St. Louis. Take a look at my personal notes on the conference, if you're interested.

Part One (in which we find an interpretation of a Pauline polemic, an ancient Nazarene bathhouse, and a super-cool guy who uses science to study the made-up Q document)

Part Two (in which we find postmodern literary deconstruction, a guy in a centurion outfit, and the prophet Ezekiel's cuss words)

Looking for a New Name

Friends, for a long time I've been searching for a new name for this blog. The title "Everyday Revolutionary" was originally a play on the phrase "Ordinary Radical," which was coined by leaders of the Christian movement fronted by people like Shane Claiborne and Jonathan Wilson Hartgrove. I still identify as a neo-monastic (though Alyssa and I have been without a solid community for far too long), but no longer feel the fan-boy giddiness I once felt in being intentionally provocative and stand-offish toward the Church. I still have my misgivings about unnecessary hierarchy and bureaucratic BS, but I'd like to think that I've become a little slower to criticize and more intentional about listening and understanding than I once was. Probably comes from living my whole life in a glass house.

While I still like the title of this blog, I nonetheless feel that it no longer accurately describes who I am as a person and as a Christian. I'm a lot more Everyday and a lot less Revolutionary these days. Additionally, the academic in me suspiciously eyes the title as an oblique form of copyright infringement, since several published works (and a few films) have used the term "Ordinary Radical," and I am unsure of how exclusive the rights to that phrase may be. I know I'm splitting hairs here, but it's still a minor concern.

My faith is broader (and, I hope, deeper) than it was when I began this blogging journey, and I'm looking for a new name to help describe who I am and what I do as a blogger. Something that incorporates my passion for New Testament biblical studies, literary interpretation, history, theology (particularly Mennonite/Anabaptist), and music would be nice. Here are a few of my favorite titles from the blogs I follow:

Now comes the fun part. I'd like you to help me rename my blog. If you have a suggestion, you can comment below, email it to me by clicking this link, or contact me on Twitter @EverydayRev. Your suggestions can be as serious or as off-the-wall as you'd like. Hopefully sometime in the next few weeks we can find a name that better suits this blog, and if your suggestion is chosen, who knows—you may even win a prize!

Much peace and love to you,


Tuesday, March 26, 2013

More On the Cross from Moltmann (Hey, Give Me A Break, It's Holy Week)

Ultimately it is not historical criticism which calls unto question every church christology and every humanist Jesuology, but the cross. He who proclaimed that the kingdom was near died abandoned by God. He who anticipated the future of God in miracles and in casting out demons died helpless on the cross. He who revealed the righteousness of God with an authority greater than Moses died according to the provision of the law as a blasphemer. He who spread the love of God in his fellowship with the poor and the sinners met his end between two criminals on the cross. Thus in the end the basic problem and the starting point of christology is the scandal and the folly of the cross. (The Crucified God, pg. 125)

A Soundtrack for Holy Week

In over six years of independently observing Holy Week, I've had the opportunity to listen to a lot of Good Friday- and Easter-themed music. By far, however, the best album I've come across up to now has been Bifrost Arts' collaborative album, Come O Spirit. A solid variety of musical styles paired with a consistent solemnity throughout, it perfectly sets the tone for the week. Stream the full album below, and if you like what you hear, head over to Great Comfort Records' website and buy it (free lyrics and chord sheets included!). They're an excellent collaboration of artists worthy of your buck.

Monday, March 25, 2013

Moltmann on the Difference Between Jesus and Paul

The preaching of Jesus, like that of Paul, is eschatological preaching; in the case of Jesus, the preaching of the kingdom of God; in the case of Paul, of the righteousness of God. The difference between them is not the superficial one of changed ideas, but is determined by their different theological situation. For Paul, that which for Jesus was the future is the present or the future of God inaugurated in the history of Jesus. The differences arose not from the further development of the teaching of Jesus, but from an apprehension of the changed situation of the essential substance itself. Jesus speaks and acts with respect to the dominion of God which is to come and is now coming into being. Paul speaks and acts with regard to the dominion of God which has already been inaugurated in the crucifixion and the resurrection of Jesus, and the righteousness of God which has already been revealed. (The Crucified God, pg. 120)

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Holy Week—You're Doing It Wrong

"...But Deliver Us From Unpleasantness,"
by Robert O. Hodgell
One of the most problematic issues with the Christian calendar is the regular skipping over of Holy Week, from Palm Sunday straight to Easter.

We do Advent right. We've got Christmas down (sort of). And Epiphany is a walk in the park. Even Lent, in all its misuse and abuse (I once had a friend who foreswore all music that was not "Christian"—whatever that means) seems to get an adequate amount of attention. But then we come to Holy Week. We are present with our waving palm fronds, we make lots of noise in our normally quiet churches, we shout our Hosannas and then we leave, only to return next week to find that the tomb is empty, the Lord is risen, and we never have to deal with the sticky wicket that was Golgotha.

It is because of this Sunday-by-Sunday structuring that we have finagled the crucifixion right out of our Easter story. We need to learn to take time to see the long shadow of the cross approaching by the end of our Palm Sunday services, and to allow ourselves to be immersed in the deathly chill of the Last Week. The Triumphal Entry gave those in Jerusalem hope that this stranger riding in on a donkey was somehow going to turn the political tables against the Romans and reverse the oppressive occupation that kept the Judeans exiled in their own land. Against expectations, however, he turned tables in the temple, called out the religious and political authorities alike, and was executed as one hated by all.

Don't get me wrong—I'm not advocating for a Passion of the Christ–esque observation of Holy Week that sprays blood in people's faces to "make a point" (My wife and I actually have a Maundy Thursday tradition of watching The Last Temptation of Christ together with friends). But the cross is (or should be) nevertheless at the very center of Christian faith.

I have been reading Jürgen Moltmann's The Crucified God for Lent, and I think that he explains well the reason that the crucifixion has been swept under the ecclesial rug: the cross reveals our own ugliness, the inhumanity of humanity. The Romans themselves viewed the early Christian worship of a crucified Jesus as "unaesthetic" and vulgar (pg. 33). Despite what numerous so-called "Jesus mythicists" say, no god in the ancient world would ever be taken seriously if that god were to die at the hands of mere human beings (as the now-famous Alexamenos graffito reveals). Such a god would be impotent and frail—in other words, not a god at all. Moltmann argues that there's something more than mere aesthetics at work here:
The symbol of the cross in the church points to the God who was crucified not between two candles on an altar, but between two thieves in the place of the skull, where the outcasts belong, outside the gates of the city. It does not invite thought but a change of mind. It is a symbol which therefore leads out of the church and out of religious longing into the fellowship of the oppressed and abandoned. On the other hand, it is a symbol which calls the oppressed and godless into the church and through the church into the fellowship of the crucified God. Where this contradiction in the cross, and its revolution in religious values, is forgotten, the cross ceases to be a symbol and becomes an idol, and no longer invites a revolution in thought, but the end of thought in self-affirmation (pg. 40)
The Church has for too long substituted platitudes for sacrifice, self-involvement for the service of the poor and abased, and theological truisms for true humility. We have effectively neutered the Christian story by whitewashing the cross and placing it on the altar. A deeply moving woodcut by Robert Hodgell entitled "...But Deliver Us From Unpleasantness" hangs in a hallway of my seminary, and features a pious congregation looking on as a preacher stands before an altar with a crucified and bloody Jesus hanging in the background. The crucifix, though, has been covered with a white sheet, and a massive bouquet of flowers hides the suffering Messiah. This congregation, like so many today, is doing Holy Week (and moreover, the Cross itself) a grave disservice. Moltmann goes on:
To make the cross a present reality in our civilization means to put into practice the experience one has received of being liberated from fear for oneself; no longer to adapt oneself to this society, its idols and taboos, its imaginary enemies and fetishes; and in the name of him who was once the victim of religion, society and the state to enter into solidarity with the victims of religion, society and the state at the present day, in the same way as he who was crucified became their brother and their liberator (pg. 40).
This Holy Week, let us remember our strange liberator, our crucified God, who submitted himself to the inhumanity of human religion and by culture, and let us go and do likewise.

Monday, March 18, 2013

Anyone Want To Write My Thesis For Me?

It's days like today that I wish someone would just hurry up and assign me a thesis topic already. All this indecision is making my brain hurt.

Friday, March 15, 2013

Book of Kells Now Online

This should be of interest to art buffs, history geeks, and religion nerds alike: the Book of Kells, an ancient Celtic illuminated biblical manuscript (and the subject of an Academy Award-nominated animated film), is now available in its entirety via the website of Trinity College Dublin, the academic institution that houses the book. It's definitely worth checking out!

Weekly Highlights (3.15.2013)

Here are a few blogs/news stories that caught my attention this week:

  • David D. Flowers offers a reflection on the life and death of Joshua Casteel, a veteran whose conviction in the nonviolent Way of Jesus led to his filing for conscientious objector status and an honorable discharge from the military. Casteel ultimately developed cancer from his long-term exposure to toxic fumes at Abu Ghraib.
  • Lerone A. Martin (Eden Theological Seminary, St. Louis) discusses the intersection of social media and prayer over at Union Theological Seminary's New Media Project blog. Are we going too far and making too many concessions when it comes to the use of technology as an aid for worship?

Monday, March 11, 2013

The Holy Land Then And Now: A Comparison

Shortly after midnight on February 27, 1974, my great-grandfather left Lambert St. Louis International Airport with a church group on a flight bound for Tel Aviv, Israel. He spent the next week touring the Holy Land, stopping at popular pilgrimage sites and taking photographs along the way.

38 years later, in May 2012, Alyssa and I made that same journey from Kansas City. We spent about a week visiting many of the same sites my Pa visited, though I did not realize it at the time. Several months after we returned back to the States, my mom presented me with a flash drive for Christmas, loaded with—among many other family treasures—the entire collection of my great-grandfather's slides from Israel, converted into digital photos. Below are several photos that Alyssa and I took that later turned out to match the pictures taken by Roger Connelly between Feb. 27 and March 5, 1974.

Church of the Annunciation, 1974

Church of the Annunciation, 2012

Inside the Church of the Annunciation, 1974
Inside the Church of the Annunciation, 2012

Church of the Nativity, 1974
Church of the Nativity, 2012

Church of the Nativity, 1974
Church of the Nativity, 2012

Marble Manger at the Church of the Nativity, 1974
Marble manger at the Church of the Nativity, 2012

Megiddo, 1974 (Note the date palm tree at the center of the photo)
Megiddo, 2012 (Same date palm, left foreground)

Entrance to Capernaum, 1974
Entrance to Capernaum, 2012

Capernaum capital piece, 1974
Same Capernaum capital piece, 2012

Capernaum synagogue, 1974
Capernaum synagogue, 2012
On Lake Gennesaret, 1974
On Lake Gennesaret, 2012 (I don't think this is exactly the same view)

On Lake Gennesaret, 1974
On Lake Gennesaret, 2012

Entrance to Gethsemane, 1974
Entrance to Gethsemane, 2012

Near the Pool of Bethesda, 1974 (Note column in right foreground)
Near the Pool of Bethesda, 2012
The Pool of Bethesda, 2012 (Different angle)

The "Upper Room," 1974
The "Upper Room," 2012

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Theological Insights from M*A*S*H

For years I've thought that a book needs to be written about M*A*S*H from a theological perspective. This evening, Alyssa and I were watching episode 7.16, "Inga," when we heard this little gem from Colonel Potter:

“Just remember: there's a right way and a wrong way to do everything, and the wrong way is to keep trying to make everybody else do it the right way.”

Now THERE's some practical theology for you.

Friday, March 8, 2013

Books for Sale—Cheap, Cheap, Cheap!

In order to make room for my ever-growing library of New Testament-oriented books, I am trying to get rid of some books that have been taking up space on my shelf for a while. If you see something you like, email me. If you're in the KC area, we can meet up and I'll just pass the books over to you. If you live far away, contact me and we'll work something out as far as shipping goes.

Like New—$5.00 


Like New—$5.00

Like New—$5.00

Like New—$5.00

Like New—$5.00

Like New—$5.00