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In John 2, at a wedding about to turn into a social disaster, the water of religious ceremony—water used to separate God’s people from the world—is turned into the finest wine you can imagine, wine of friendship and celebration.
Sitting alone at an outdoor cafe near his Queens apartment on a warm, sunny Monday afternoon, a young church planter stares at his laptop.
The gathering featured a speaker who had spearheaded an impressive reimagination of the church he pastored.
In his magnificent introduction of our Lord Jesus Christ in the Gospel of John, the Apostle proclaims that, “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”
In a landmark decision, the former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin was recently found guilty on three counts in the trial over George Floyd’s death.
Church planting is not sexy. Or cool. Or easy. At least not in New York City.
In light of the alarming rise of hateful rhetoric, dehumanization of, and violent attacks against Asian Americans, rallies for Asian lives were held in 14 cities across the country on March 28.
When I read Mark 1:29-39, I can’t help but think of the many pastors, church planters, and leaders I’ve met over the years.
The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus empowers us to live with hope, knowing we’ve been given the gift of eternal life.
I live on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, which is known to be one of the most politically liberal areas in New York and the U.S.
Sharing the good news of Jesus with people who will likely reject you is terrifying.
The purpose of silence and solitude is to be able to see and hear.