There won't be any critters in heaven? Hmmmm. Then I wonder what Romans 8:19-21 means? 

"For the earnest expectation of the creation eagerly waits for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it in hope; because the creation itself also will be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of  God."

That's New King James, but I've checked a bunch of alternate translations too. Here, for instance, is the English Standard Version that so many are gravitating towards these days: "For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God." 

Here's the New American Standard Bible: "For the anxious longing of the creation waits eagerly for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was  subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself also will be set free from its slavery to corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God."

Of course, I'm sure there are ways of spiritualizing all of this, as some are fond of doing. I don't know about you, but I prefer not to do that, not being smart enough to know where to stop. Besides, I find it much sweeter to remember the biblical meaning of words such as "hope" ("confident expectation") and so to imagine that maybe, just maybe, our sweet critters will all be waiting for me when "earth's toiling [has] ended." 

There are many other arguments that can be made in support of this possibility -- including those set forth by Gary Kurz in Cold Noses at the Pearly Gates. But I think Romans 8:19-21 alone should be enough to give hope to anyone who's missing a beloved pet.  

Seems like everywhere I turn lately I am being reminded of Jesus’ commands in Matthew 5:43-45a: 

"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven…” 

Like so much of what Jesus taught, these commands go against human nature, against human experience, and against human desire.  Even with the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, the born-again believer retains vestiges of the “natural man” described by the apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 2; and this natural man wants our enemies to suffer while watching us prosper. 

And we’ve received a lot of support from our culture. “Living well is the best revenge” was advice I read decades ago in some woman’s magazine, and I took it to heart; to this day, if someone has irritated or hurt or angered me, my first reaction is to fantasize about some way of making him feel small, and me look radiantly happy and successful and positively unfazed by anything he could do or say.   

But thanks to Matthew 5 and the indwelling Holy Spirit, such thoughts now vanish in fairly short order, being forcibly replaced by meditations on how best to love, bless, do good to and pray for the enemy at hand.  

After all, it’s the Lord’s will that all should be saved and know the truth (1 Timothy 2:3-4). And which is more attractive to a potential saint, even if he’s wearing wolf’s clothing at the moment – an attitude of love or disdain?

Consider, for example, how the ladies of Atlanta treated prostitute Belle Watling. (If you don’t know off the top of your head, you simply MUST see Gone with the Wind just as soon and often as possible!) With one exception, they stuck their noses in the air and told her to get lost, right? The exception, of course, was the overtly Christian Melanie Wilkes, who treated her with great kindness and humility, as in the scene in Belle’s carriage after Belle had provided a life-saving alibi for the ladies' husbands:

Melanie: How can I thank you enough for what you did for us? How can any of us thank you enough? 
Belle: I got your note saying you were going to call on me and thank me. Oh Mrs Wilkes, you must have lost your mind. I come up here as soon as it was dark to tell you you mustn't even think of such things. Why I'm... Why you're... Well it wouldn't be fittin' at all 
Melanie: Wouldn't be fitting for me to call on a kind woman who saved my husband's life? 
Belle: Mrs Wilkes, there ain't never been a woman in town that's been nice to me the way you was, I mean about the money for the hospital, you know. And I don't forget a kindness.

I think it’s safe to say that if Belle Watling ever did seek Christ, it would have been at least in part because of the Christian love Melanie showed her – not the cold judgmentalism demonstrated by the leading ladies of Atlanta society.                                                                
Just this morning, I read a related post by author Carol Barnier, who writes so lovingly and eloquently about prodigals.  She quotes Dr. Russell Moore, Dean of the School of Theology at Southern Baptist Seminary: “The next Jonathan Edwards might be the man driving in front of you with the Darwin Fish bumper decal. The next Charles Wesley might be a misogynist, profanity-spewing hip-hop artist right now. The next Billy Graham might be passed out drunk in a fraternity house right now.”

Noting the immense comfort to be found in these words, Carol concluded, “Your prodigal may currently be making choices that range from uncomfortable to shocking. But the God of the universe looks down in love on your child and says, ‘I’m not done yet. I have plans for that one. And if they ever turn to Me, you’ll see something amazing. Something beautiful. Something that can change the world.’”  

And that is perhaps the best reason for obeying Jesus’ command to love, bless, do good to and pray for our enemies. After all, by doing so, we might be pointing a modern-day Saul of Tarsus to the kingdom of God.  

The world’s scientific elite insist that our universe is billions of years old, and that any scientist who denies it is no scientist at all.

Jay Hall is one of many experts who beg to differ, having amassed an impressive body of evidence supporting Young Earth Science (YES) – and working hard to spread the word.

In addition to writing an excellent book on the subject, this Howard College assistant math professor and young-earth activist has just released an information-packed podcast outlining some of the major evidences for a young earth.  

In this brief program, Jay touches on everything from Neanderthal graveyards to tree rings, from YES-supporting history to the flaws and limitations of radiometric dating. He lists a handful of the scholars and authors who support YES. And he asks some very important questions – including, perhaps most importantly, “Should we blindly accept the visionary pronouncements about the distant past provided by Big Geology or should we follow the evidence that leads to a young earth?”   

For the answer, listen here! 

Are you an independent thinker who refuses to be locked into a single system of thought?

Do you scoff at “dogmatic” people who cling to a single Higher Authority – especially the Higher Authority who supposedly inspired the Bible, which you're personally certain is no better than any other book?

Do you ever find yourself rubbing shoulders with such people, in a vain search for a like-minded friend who adheres to just the right amount of “religion”?

If you answered "yes" to these questions, have we got a recommendation for you – the absolutely perfect “church” for those who know that the greatest virtue is tolerance!

It’s called Unitarian Universalism (UU – not to be confused with Unreal Units or User Unknown).  Its roots can be found in the late 18th and 19th centuries, just as the early strains of Zionism began to be heard. If you don’t know the significance of that movement – well, it’s a long story and you’d have to study the Bible to understand, so it’s easiest to just shrug it off. Suffice to say that this was the beginning of an era in which a number of exciting new religions emerged, from Jehovah’s Witness, Mormonism and Christian Science to Spiritism and the Baha’i Faith. The common denominator? All deny the divinity or humanity of Christ, or the sufficiency of His atonement, or both.

But I digress. The important thing is that with UU, you can believe whatever you want! For instance:

• What is truth? Who knows?
• Is there a God? Who cares?
• How about sacred texts? Read none or all -- what difference does it make?

The important thing is that, with UU, there's none of that pesky dogma. And how cool is this: no UU will ever try to trip you up with words like “truth” or “source of authority,” except perhaps in the sense that “truth is whatever you think” and “the best source of authority is your own intellect.”

Is UU for you? Here’s a quiz to help you find out.  

Now excuse me while I return to my meditation on Mark 6:11. 

One of the Bible passages that’s never far from my thoughts is Jesus’ teaching on the narrow gate:

"Enter by the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go in by it. Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it." (Matthew 7:13-14)

I’ve just been thinking about how no one is born on Jesus’ side of the narrow gate; we all start out dancing down the wide path to destruction. Over the course of our lives, our routes along this path may vary dramatically, but there are ultimately only two choices: staying on the same old course, or stepping through the narrow gate to eternal life with Him.

Sadly, many will stay on the wide path to destruction for the duration, to their eternal regret. But some -- relatively few, He said -- will eventually discover and pass through the narrow gate, through repentance and trust in Him, to join Him in heaven forevermore.   

If you are one who has passed through the gate, it doesn’t matter when you did it. Whether you are 8 or 80, or even younger or older, nothing that comes before that momentous event really matters, because taking this step changes everything: “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new” (2 Corinthians 5:17).   

Just rejoice that you did it, because the narrow gate is the door to freedom in Christ forevermore – even if you happen to find it when you’re locked up in a real bricks-and-mortar prison. In fact, the Lord often uses just such circumstances to call our attention to the narrow gate, free from the distractions of our normal sinful existences.  

If you haven’t yet traversed the narrow gate, don’t wait another day. Consider how the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir describes the freedom that awaits you:  

I’ve just started rereading a volume of Uncle Arthur stories sent to me a couple years ago by my friend Karen. whose five-star ebay store features rare and out-of-print children’s books. 

Uncle Arthur is the ultimate in comfort reading.  He never fails to sweep me back to my life’s best days, when I was utterly dependent upon my parents, not even vaguely interested in anything they didn’t approve of. In my eyes, they were all-wise and all-loving and all-wonderful and wanted only the very best for me.

And day after day, they delivered in every way imaginable – not the least of which involved reading me Uncle Arthur’s gentle stories of other children who learn, through the unpleasant consequences of their little rebellions, the incalculable value of biblical truth.  

Alas, I grew up and discovered the pleasures of the world, the flesh and the devil. I left behind all I’d learned from my idyllic childhood to spend four decades chasing precisely the things that God warns against.   

I was far from alone, of course. In the 1960s, my generation launched on all-out assault on Christianity. It has taken a half a century, and skirmishes continue. But it looks like the enemies of God are destined to win this leg of the war, and to succeed in putting their god on the throne of this world for seven horrific years.

The big battles seem to be over: God and His word have been driven out of the public square. It’s fine to kill babies even as they emerge from the womb. Euthanasia and assisted suicide are on their way to becoming the law of the land. Children are quite right to disrespect and abandon their elderly. And biblical morality, the last refuge of those dangerous religious fanatics, is only to be whispered about behind closed doors.

Now, with the major issues settled to the devil’s satisfaction, we are seeing even the most preposterous attacks succeed.

The latest example: Some pointy-headed British philosopher has decided that parents who read to their children – parents with the audacity to raise their children in loving homes – are giving them an unfair advantage in life.  

“Evidence shows,” says this philosopher, “that the difference between those who get bedtime stories and those who don’t – the difference in their life chances – is bigger than the difference between those who get elite private schooling and those that don’t.”

Well, we can’t have that, can we?

Perhaps it’s time to hide our Uncle Arthur libraries, folks. Time, too, to get serious about hiding the word of God in our hearts; at this rate, it won’t be long before they come for our Bibles.