One of the great mysteries—and adventures—of my Christian life has been learning to discern the will or voice of God. I was raised in a church tradition in which one didn’t hear the voice of God. We didn’t need to—we had the completed Word of God in the Bible. But conversely, God did guide—revealing His will through things like circumstances, internal peace, godly counsel, and of course through reading the Bible. We didn’t believe in new revelation, but in the…
The Fourth Word: My God, My God, Why Have You Forsaken Me? Second Mennonite Church, Philadelphia, April 3:2026 Matthew 27:46; Mark 15:34 At the sixth hour, darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour, Jesus cried out in a loud voice: “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” So now we come to the center. Three words have already been spoken, and three more will follow. But…
I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but they’re moving an entire brick house on Rt. 625 next to Conestoga Wood Specialties. I’ve been watching with fascination over the last few weeks as they dug out around the foundation, cut through the concrete sections, and slid massive steel I-beams underneath. Then—somehow—they lifted the whole thing, inch by inch. When I drove by Sunday morning, there it was… an entire house sitting on a flatbed trailer. I can’t imagine the tension of…
You’ve probably heard the story—when Hernán Cortés landed in the New World, he burned his ships. No retreat. No backup plan. No “we’ll see how this goes.” The only way forward… was forward. It’s a little extreme—but also quite inspiring. Because if we’re honest, most of us live with more than a few “ships” docked in the background. Things we’d like to do. Tasks that need accomplishing. Issues that need addressing. The spirit is willing… but the flesh is weak…
A week or so ago I was driving while my YouVersion audio Bible was playing through the book of Numbers. I had just finished painfully listening to two very repetitive chapters listing the census of the entire nation of Israel… tribe by tribe… clan by clan. It was, shall we say, a bit tedious. Then the Levites were counted—clan by clan. At some point I thought to myself, “Well, this is why it’s called the book of Numbers. Clever.” Our…
Today is a day of fasting and prayer at Bethany. In light of the unfolding military conflict in Iran and the growing uncertainty across the Middle East, we’ve invited our church family to pause, set aside some of our normal routines, and seek the Lord together. To help guide that time, we’ve prepared an hour-by-hour prayer guide with Scripture, prompts, and songs to focus our intercession throughout the day. When events in our world begin to move quickly and beyond…
“Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the Lord God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from the Lord God among the trees of the garden.” (Genesis 3:8) It is one of the saddest sentences in the Bible. They heard the Lord God coming and they hid. Why hide? God was not a stranger. He wasn’t their enemy. This was the One who had stooped in the…
“Slaughterhouse Religion.” That’s what my grandmother called the Old Testament sacrificial system. Grandma Matthes came out of mainline Methodism. She loved Jesus and, later in life, came to a fuller assurance of her salvation. But whenever she tried to read through the Bible, she would get bogged down in Leviticus. She’d arrive at the detailed description of the Old Testament sacrificial system— and that was as far as she could go. It was just too upsetting for her. Grandma had…
Broken Fingers Reflections on how Adoption broke my fingers. Linda Fisher 1/28/2026 The break was necessary, crucial and fought mightily against. I had my passionate dreams. I had my plans. Life all planned out well to the smallest details. I told God my dreams. Large family. Color coordinated. Racially integrated. Raising orphans to reach other countries and cities that were so in need of the touch of GOD to better their lives. To bring the gospel. After child rearing years,…
Last night Pam and I slept downstairs in our finished basement. When the thermometer dips toward the single digits, our heat pump just can’t keep up—especially in our upstairs bedroom that sits above an unheated garage. When I come down in the morning and the thermostat inside the house is reading in the 50s, I don’t need to check the weather app to know it’s cold outside. So once or twice a year, when the mercury really dives, one of…