This Sunday is Palm Sunday, the day we remember the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. The crowd excitedly welcomed him because they hoped he was a king like the rulers of man. But Jesus was not coming to Jerusalem to topple Rome; He was coming to destroy death. He was not arriving to respond to political grievances but to satisfy the wrath of God. He was not coming to comfort us with platitudes but to confront our sin on the cross with His own body and blood.

The first Christmas of the war came five months after the war began. As soldiers sat in their wet and muddy trenches, they anticipated that Christmas day would come and go as so many days before had been spent. However, as darkness fell over the battlefield on Christmas Eve, British soldiers began to hear singing. The German soldiers were singing Christmas carols. The British soldiers heard familiar melodies emanating across the battle-scarred earth where so many had died, and some corpses still lay where they fell. They listened. Some even added their voice to the strange choir. Singing would lead to invitations, and miraculously the soldiers eventually climbed out of their muddy holes and met one another in "No Man's Land," to celebrate Christmas together. There were handshakes, sharing of cigarettes and cigars, and most importantly, a momentary pause in the exchange of gunfire. Diaries and letters to loved ones back home told of makeshift Christmas trees being erected and decorated, soccer games, and other joint activities in stark contrast to the context and location. The momentary relief from the prosecution of war also allowed both sides to collect their dead.

But when the pastor turned his attention away from eulogistic reflections and attempted to speak words of comfort, he lost his footing. I genuinely believe that he wanted to provide some consolation to those of us grieving. I have no doubt that his desire was to speak to us words to soothe our grief and assuage our sadness. In that moment of significant loss, he tried to speak of profound things that would last and had the power to alleviate our grief. But instead of comforting us with the eternal word of God, he spoke that day of things that sounded profound but were less than transcendent. He said, “your grandmother will have eternal life in your memories.” He offered as comfort the words, “your grandmother will live on and remain with you in your hearts.” He spoke these things with genuine concern and conviction. At first, they seemed to have weight and truth, but they proved to be less than helpful on reflection. Memories are sweet, but there are many things about my grandmother I never knew, and there are many things about her I have already forgotten. Keeping her “in my heart” seems, at first, to be a sweet sentiment but, on reflection, holds no lasting weight. Rather than encourage, these words cheapen the biblical truth and gospel hope. These words deny the power of the eternal God, who is able to keep His promises of bodily resurrection and eternal life, to those who have died in faith and instead places the hope of eternity in the frail and fleeting heart of man. His words were nice-sounding, but they were powerless.

I remember school discussions of the First World War and how it was supposed to be the war to end war. It did not. I remember school discussions of how after the First World War, there was a period of significant industrialization and medical and technological advancements that many thought would usher in a new area of human prosperity and tranquility. It did not. It is easy to see previous generations' hubris and recognize their foolishness. No war can create lasting peace. There is no advancement of technology, no matter the laudable intentions of its creator, that will not also be used for nefarious means. No medical advancement comes without ethical dilemmas and malicious applications. In contrast to the clarity we recognize past hubris, it is difficult to see our own in the present.

I have often heard it said that sheep are dumb. Generally, this assessment of the deficient intelligence of the ovine mind is used to explain the propensity of sheep to wander off from the herd and become lost. The Bible often uses sheep as a metaphor for God’s people. As such, when biblical passages are taught that deal with the imagery of sheep and their shepherds the negative assessment of being dumb and stupid is often applied both to the sheep and to Christians. This negative description of sheep is so commonly used that it gives the impression that the biblical perspective of sheep is universally negative.

Personal experience and academic knowledge are related but not the same. They are distant cousins. One can have a vast academic and technical understanding of something, even being able to describe it in the most specific details without personally and experientially knowing what they are describing.

In October of 1735, the trustees for the establishment of the colony of Georgia appointed Francis Moore to be the keeper of the stores for the new fort and town that was to be established on the banks of the Mackay River. Both the fort and the town would be named Frederica. Moore would travel to Georgia with James Oglethorpe to this new town on what today is known as St. Simons Island. Moore would return to England a year later only to come again to Frederica in 1738 as recorder. He would live in Georgia until 1746, witnessing the siege of St. Augustine and the Spanish invasion of Georgia in 1742. Moore kept journals detailing the establishment of the fort and town, the people, flora and fauna, and events he witnessed. Some of his journals were published.

When I was a kid, my church did a Living Christmas Tree program each Christmas season. The event was very much a product of 1980s church culture. It featured a massive steel-framed Christmas tree that rose from the base of the stage to inches from the high ceiling. The tree was constructed to support ascending rows of choir members who stood behind the tree's greenery with only their heads and shoulders exposed. The large choir would perform from the tree, while drama skits and small musical ensembles would perform on stages to the left and right of the tree. The event featured a full orchestra and the spectacle of lights on the tree. I loved it and looked forward to it each year. Over the years, there were common themes that were used year after year. One of those was a narration that made a distinction between this tree and that tree.

They were newlyweds returning from their honeymoon. As the 21-year-old Granger Kent and his new bride traveled toward home, surely their thoughts were on their future and the excitement of establishing a home and building a family. Seated not far from the newlyweds were two men, both engaged, and traveling to meet their brides and celebrate their weddings. 154 years ago, these and many more were gathered on a train traveling from Cleveland to Buffalo, New York.

The New York Express departed Cleveland in the early hours of December 18, 1867. As it made its way toward its destination it struggled to keep up with the appointed schedule, and by the time it reached Angola, NY, it was running nearly three hours late. The train engineers had no hope of arriving on time, but they were doing all they could to minimize the severity of their tardiness.

Other than the frustration of anticipated schedules being missed the trip was mundane. These were the days when passenger trains were the primary way of travel. It is likely that every passenger on the train that day had taken many similar trips and gave little thought to the significance of this trip. As they passed through Angola, they knew they were getting close to their destination and likely began to turn their thoughts to what they would do when they arrived. Angola was not a planned stop, so the train passed by the little wooded depot at a steady speed. The telegraph operator in the station noted her passing and surely waved at the engineers as they passed.

Preaching the gospel is a strange thing. Observing from a human perspective, it seems rather simple and powerless. And yet, the humble appearance of preaching is in contrast to what Scripture declares it to be. Vested in the humble act of proclaiming the word of Christ is the power to save.

The church we attended while in seminary had a ministry at a local nursing home. They would send someone out each week to conduct Sunday services. Several times I was asked to lead these services and preach. It would just be me and someone who would play the piano. The nursing home staff would assemble the residents in the dining room where I would lead the singing of a hymn then preach. Some of the residents were aware that they were participating in the service, while others were not. Some would grow tired and fall asleep before I finished leading the service. I preached with all the effort and skill that I had but often wondered what real effectiveness or eternal impact I had.

There is a part of me that is sad to acknowledge the dearth of biblical literacy today. Biblical literacy has historically influenced our politics, public speech, education, poetry, and music. Without a general knowledge of the Bible, much of the writings of previous generations will not be fully understood. Phrases like “let justice roll down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream” in Dr. Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream” speech lose their authority and power when they are divorced from the prophet Amos and become just another line in a great speech. Without an awareness of biblical themes, the opening words of the Gettysburg address just seem like a strange way to reference time.

Finding the right church is not easy. Unfortunately, too many see this as a consumer driven process rather than a spiritual act of obedience. Few go beyond the superficial of music style of the services or speaking ability of the pastor. In an interview for The Blue Mountain Review my fiend Clifford Brooks asked me how someone should go about finding a church. My response was five suggestions that I think are critical to making this decision.

You can test the water but—at some point—you must jump in. I appreciate that many come with questions and want to investigate the gospel first, but faith comes not by proximity but by intentionality. The claims of scripture are radical. The Bible teaches that God created everything; God demands righteousness; Jesus is the eternal God who came in the flesh; that he was born of a virgin; that He lived among us without sin; that He died as a sacrifice for our sin so that we might be saved; that Jesus physically died and was buried; and that He physically rose from the dead and ascended to heaven. You can investigate these claims. You can read the biblical witness of these claims. You can ponder and think on these things but, again—at some point—you must choose to believe or reject the testimony of scripture. It is an all or nothing proposition.

The New Testament church was not persecuted because the world they lived in was anti-religion. They were persecuted because the gospel they preached was exclusive. The Romans who so viciously mistreated the early Christians were not opposed to adding a new god to the list but would not stand for the testimony of Jesus claiming to be the one true God and the only way to heaven. That same dynamic is true today. Our culture loves religion as long as that religion makes no absolute truth claims. And that is the problem with Christianity – it makes absolute truth claims.