In Word or Deed

Photo by Zoltan Kovacs on Unsplash I've seen quite a few posts on social media lately insinuating that any Christian who has anything to say against illegal immigration is being hypocritical. They point out that the Bible tells us to care for the homeless and those in need and so we are guilty of ignoring what we claim to believe. Some even go so far as to claim that this behavior is a telltale sign of our inherent racism and selfishness, that all of our so called righteousness is nothing more than a now crumbling facade. While I don't doubt that there are plenty of people to whom this rightfully does apply, allow me a brief defense of my own position on this particular topic if you don't mind. I would say that the issue of immigration, illegal or otherwise, as well as the whole refugee issue comes down to two distinct levels of responsibility; the individual and the national. Let's talk about the personal responsibility first. As an indivi...

Photo by Heather Mount on Unsplash Do you have a life's purpose? Is there something beyond or above yourself that influences your choices? I ask because it would seem that the current of modern culture is moving more and more toward the idea that the ultimate ethic is my own freedom and choice, with the only overarching ethic being that we should support the rights of other people to also follow their own desires. While this doesn't seem too terrible an idea at the start it does lead us down a rather unfortunate rabbit hole. Modern man is more and more losing the ability to live for anything beyond himself and what he finds comfortable, enjoyable, or agreeable. Really, this is just the natural outworking of pluralism and the post-modern mentality. We've taken away any idea of a meta-narrative, of an overarching truth that explains and pertains to every aspect of life. There is no objective truth in the philosophy of modern man and thus there is onl...

Photo by Samuel Zeller on Unsplash I used to think that everyone else was lucky. They all had passions, they all had dreams. In others I saw consuming desires that propelled them into their futures. Some wanted to be doctors others engineers, others soldiers, while I sat to the side and didn't know what I wanted to be. I used to think I was broken, that some crucial part of me was damaged or simply missing or that I'd failed to pick it up along the way. Now that I'm a bit older I've begun to wonder, was I just hoping for something to make the decision for me? Is there any inherent merit in a passion that you did not choose and a life that merely carried you along? I can't help but think that maybe what I saw as a self-propelled desire was really the outworking of a personal decision to pursue a goal. Was I longing for something that nobody actually possessed? I like to write, I love it even. I genuinely enjoy sitting down and putting tho...

It's a bit of phenomenon really, our ability to live so much in the moment that even the passage of time itself can be a bit of a shock. We've all experienced this. Whenever a child seems suddenly older or we do just because we heard the exact number of years, or when we look back and suddenly realize just how long it has been since high school, or that your vacation is already over. The point is that although time moves on as it will, our experience of it tends to skew towards the now rather than the will be or has been. Our ability to accurately understand the time we have is woefully lacking. This plays itself out in a number of ways, not the least of which being our abysmal lack of respect for how much time we have left. Do you remember the first time you realized that you are going to die? I do. I was just looking in the mirror one day, getting ready for something I suppose, and the realization hit me that I am now older than ever I have been before...

Photo by  Felix Russell-Saw   on  Unsplash Today was hard.  It was hard to sit at this computer and stare at a blank page and to watch the hours tick by while that same page stubbornly refused to fill itself with words. Sometimes you don't have much to say.  Sometimes you just don't have anything to say. Nevertheless I moved my fingers across this keyboard, filling up this space with something. I'm writing, even it's nothing, because I made a choice. Sometimes it comes down to pure choice. In life we run into situations where it can be very easy to just, not. Not do this, not do that, not do whatever. What we do in those moments will usually be the result of a choice made long before. We are -in large measure- who we choose to be.  For example, over four years ago I made the choice to be a husband. That choice carried with it myriad other choices that are all interrelated and interconnected and all of them already made. I will lo...