Waiting For the Next Shoe to Drop
You've heard the saying, "Waiting for the other shoe to drop."
This modern idiom traces its origins back to the way that tenements in larger cities were designed and built back in the late 1800s, often with bedrooms stacked atop one another. It was common to hear the neighbor above you take of his or her shoes at night and drop them to the floor; first one, then the other. According to wiktionary.org, "waiting for the other shoe to drop" is to "await a seemingly inevitable event, especially one that is not desirable."
We are living in an age where a sense of doom is looming. We feel the threat of terrorism, the effects of diseases like Ebola, and the insecurity of the economy. Underfoot, we hear of devastating earthquakes and tsunamis, and overhead, even the climate is threatening our existence. Add to these things the ever quickening pace of the moral decline of our nation, and it all begins to feel like the prelude to something big--something even worse--like one big shoe is about to drop and indeed it is!
The Bible says that at a time of great turmoil, while the world is groping for peace and security, "destruction will come on them suddenly, as labor pains on a pregnant woman, and they will not escape" (1 Thessalonians 5:3).
The Word Became Flesh
"The Word became flesh--and then through theologians it became words again."
Karl Barth (10 May 1886–10 December 1968) was a Swiss Reformed pastor, and one of the most influential Christian thinkers of the 20th century, a leader of what became known as the neo-orthodox movement. He was largely responsible for the Barmen Declaration, which was one of the founding documents of the Confessing Church opposed to Nazi policies. Pope Pius XII described him as the most important theologian since Thomas Aquinas.
Barth's point is well taken. By explaining the supernatural away, modern false prophets have managed to declare undone all that God has in fact done.
"Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves" (Matthew 7:15).
John Reed
Atheist Churches
This week (11/10/13) in Los Angeles, the Sunday Assembly--a congregation of atheists--celebrated it's first "church" service. "It looked like a typical Sunday morning at any mega-church. Several hundred people, including families with small children, packed in for more than an hour of rousing music, an inspirational talk and some quiet reflection. The only thing missing was God."
Atheist churches are springing up across the country, and internationally as well. They are the brainchild of Sanderson Jones and Pippa Evans--British comedians whose spoof involving raising money to plant atheist churches has become a bona fide movement. Their goal is to raise $800,000 to help "pop up" congregations, of which they've already raise $50,000.
Jones is reported to have gotten the idea after leaving a Christmas service:
"There was so much about it that I loved, but it's a shame because at the heart of it, it's something I don't believe in," Jones said. "If you think about church, there's very little that's bad. It's singing awesome songs, hearing interesting talks, thinking about improving yourself and helping other people — and doing that in a community with wonderful relationships. What part of that is not to like?"
This really isn't new. People have been singing awesome songs and enjoying community in churches all along, without necessarily having any interest in, let alone having a personal relationship with God. Although this may appear to be a new phenomenon, Jesus predicted that churches would be composed of both wheat and tares, right up until the end of the age.
"Let both grow together until the harvest: and in the time of harvest I will say to the reapers, Gather you together first the tares, and bind them in bundles to burn them: but gather the wheat into my barn" (Matthew 13:30).