A Chinese aristocrat by the name of Kung Yu, who lived several hundred years before Jesus was born, was known for his intelligence and diligence in his studies. Yet, he was humble and unafraid to ask questions of people who were not as well-educated. After his death, the Duke of Wei awarded him the honorable title of Wen (which means “refined” and “literary” in Chinese). So he became known as Kung Wen Zi.
The pastor of a megachurch quit providing content through social media—declaring his return to his original calling of pastoring his local church. He felt that the distraction of his popular online communications were detracting from His primary calling. Pastors and all of us struggle at times with our priorities.
Bible scholars disagree on the exact number, but most believe that Jesus has fulfilled some 350 Old Testament prophecies—stretching from Genesis to Malachi. And hundreds more will be fulfilled in the future. In his book Evidence That Demands a Verdict, Josh McDowell shared a study that shows that the probability of a person fulfilling just one prophecy is 1 in 300,000; and for 8 fulfilled prophecies, the odds are an astronomical 1 in 1017 or 100,000,000,000,000,000!
After helping his team win American pro football’s 2014 Super Bowl, a cornerback declared in a post-game interview that he was the best player at his position, and opposing teams should send only their best players against him. His comments sparked a national discussion on the role of courtesy in sports. Although his remarks offended some people, you can’t deny that he’s supremely confident in his abilities.
I once had a boss who wielded the ultimate power in our organization. It was his goal to make sure we never forgot who was in charge. Though he was successful in gaining an iron grip within our office, the net result was that this man was very lonely. How different it could have been if he had humbled himself and formed friendly relationships with his employees!
A few years ago, my husband and a friend of his attempted the Three Peaks Challenge—climbing the highest mountains of Scotland, England, and Wales within 24 hours. This included scaling Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in the British Isles at 1,344 meters. It was sunny at the foot of Ben Nevis as the men, dressed in just T-shirts and shorts, started their ascent. As they approached the summit, however, the weather changed; they hit ice and thick fog and their skimpy clothing simply wasn’t enough. They made it down the mountain, but the challenge was off.
This week I bought $30 worth of toilet paper in order to qualify for a mail-in rebate. The rebate form told me to address my envelope to “Road to Glory.” Really? I hadn’t slain a dragon or won a championship. I had merely purchased TP. So I laughed at the ridiculous title as I wrote it on the envelope.
Christmas cards and nativity scenes depict the wise men visiting the Christ-child. But I think the story is bigger than the way it’s presented. The wise men’s journey is also a paradigm for our spiritual journey.
After Nelson Mandela’s death at the end of 2013, many stories surfaced of his genuine concern for others. In 1950s Apartheid South Africa, Mandela once saw a white woman standing beside her broken car in Johannesburg. Approaching her, he offered help and was able to fix the car.
The alarm clock rang promptly at 7 in the morning. Sophie woke up with a bad headache, but she thought nothing of it. She pushed away the covers and got out of bed. Suddenly, as a stroke devastated her brain, darkness descended and she collapsed to the floor. Sadly, situations like this one have been a reality for many people over the years.
In 2013, a train carrying 218 people derailed in Spain, killing 79 and injuring 66 more. Though the train’s engineer said he couldn’t explain why the accident occurred, video footage provided answers. The train was going as fast as 119 mph before it hit the deadly curve—more than twice the speed limit for that section of track. So it wasn’t just the speed that caused the accident. It was the combination of the speed and the location of the track. The boundary of the speed limit was created for the protection of the passengers, but the seasoned engineer ignored it, and it led to tragedy.
I once wrote a book based on a collection of letters that François Fénelon (a French pastor from the 17th century) wrote to a younger friend who was serving in the morally corrupt court of King Louis XIV. Fénelon’s fatherly posture and his call for unflinching devotion to God captured me. Words like this are standard Fénelon fare: “Becoming a follower of God is hard because it requires that we submit ourselves fully to a God who is other than us. We must let go of our insistence that we know best what we need. We must let go of our demands that God act when and how we demand.”