Evangelicals today are rather embarrassed about doing evangelism. In part this is due to our wanting to distance ourselves from the reality of immoral approaches to evangelism practiced by the church, both present and past. But, as John Fletcher points out in the conclusion to his book, perhaps there is a more telling and current reason for our embarrassment about evangelism.
“What do you like to read?” Most readers have an answer ready when faced with this question at the proverbial cocktail party: mysteries, nature writing, biographies of renowned poker players. I would get bet good money that no reader has ever answered by saying that she likes to read about offices. Our modern workplaces, so goes the thinking, are just the sort of dreary, soul-deadening environments that we wish to escape when we read a book. Who would want to read about them?
So I pull out the paints, one by one and they’re like baptismals. I dip my brush into each colour: the lemon yellow, the sepia brown, ivory black, titanium white, cobalt blue and burnt umber. I like how that sounds – “burnt umber.” It rumbles, almost.
When Jenny and Richard Bowen read a newspaper headline about the report – “U.S. rights group asserts that China lets thousands of orphans die” – they knew they had to do something. Sending money – where would they send it, anyway? – didn’t seem like an adequate solution to a crisis that involved the deaths of predominantly “unwanted little girls.”
The Leftovers is difficult to watch. It draws the viewer into the chaotic aftermath of tragic loss by taking us into the lives of characters who no longer have any sense of meaning or purpose. Thus far, partway into the first season, there is very little redemption to be found – which might actually be a reason to watch.
Whether you read the books or watch the movie (about Temple Grandin), your mind will be opened to many new ideas, and the unique contributions each and every person can make in widely divergent areas of creation.
When friends of mine go to the Netherlands I tell them they have to experience three things. They have to order a loempia (Indonesian meat and vegetable roll) and eat it outdoors at a market; they must ride a bike through the dunes, and they must spend hours at the Van Gogh Museum drinking in his view of the world. Of the three, Van Gogh is the most important. And I’ve been reintroduced to his brilliance recently because I have been reading Henri Nouwen.
This small, charming and already celebrated book can be shortened to one sentence: “Follow Jesus into your neighbourhood with fellow followers of Jesus.”
I hate violence and I distrust all talk of “revolution.” But by the end of this book I not only wanted to occupy Wall Street, I wanted to destroy it with my bare hands.
According to David Garrison, “most Christians admit to knowing little about Islam or the way God is at work in their world to reach Muslims.
For Austin Fischer, Calvinism is a matter of cosmic concern. It’s a black hole – or at least it postulates a God who behaves like one.
Does the success of Michael Bay’s style of big-budget, explosion-y, thrill ride movie mean that Transformers: Age of Extinction is an especially good film? Not really. Was it fun to watch? Of course it was; that’s the entire point!