The Glowing Scroll

Two years ago this month, I called our mortgage company to check on the status of our loan modification. I had been told I'd receive a package within a few weeks, and should just wait. When it didn't arrive, I called the bank and spoke to a kind service representative. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said, "but your home was sold at a Trustee's sale—three days ago." Before I had a chance to recover from that news, I heard the doorbell ring. It was a real estate agent who worked for the bank—what we call an REO agent. "I'm sorry about what has happened to you," he said, "but your home is now owned by Fannie Mae. I'd like to discuss the terms under which you will leave ..." It was just the beginning of a long ordeal. We immediately began efforts to get the sale rescinded. But all the smart people I talked to—attorneys, bankers, real estate professionals—said we were wasting our time; Trustee's sales were vi...

Does it bother you that there are so many churches? It does me. As I drive from my home to my own church meeting I pass probably a dozen churches—some traditional buildings, some tiny storefronts, others hidden in industrial parks or rented schoolrooms. I don’t know the people who attend any of these congregations, and don’t have a particular desire to. That's odd, if you take seriously the prayer of Jesus that we believers should be one, as He and the Father are one. But there’s another way to look at it. In my cursory studies of church history, I’ve noticed a pattern: Spontaneous movements have always sprung up within Christendom, particularly since the reformation, but before as well. They defy all efforts by civil or church authorities to stop them; in fact they flourish most in hostile environments. In this sense, the church resembles a weed. Does this sound insulting, even blasphemous? Don’t be offended. I have great admiration for weeds, after decades of observing and figh...