There is no shortage of scoffers out there today (hmmmm – just as the apostle Peter predicted in 2 Peter 3:3, when he said “scoffers will come in the last days”). For instance, some say the Old Testament prophet Daniel missed the boat because his prophecies didn’t precisely match what happened 500 years later, in the first century A.D. 

Well, duh – even I could see the mistake: Daniel wasn’t talking about the first century. He was talking about events that have yet to take place 2500 years after he lived.

When will they play out?

God only knows. But it’s clear that we are wise to pay attention to the world around us – and to be wary of what we hear presented as truth.

In the summer of 2006, for instance, the History Channel ran a program – I think it might have been “Digging for the Truth” – that made prominent mention of the Dead Sea Scrolls. 

I was glued to the TV. The History Channel is sometimes surprisingly objective in talking about the Bible, and I thought maybe the host would explore how the Dead Sea Scrolls proved the flawless integrity of the Old Testament.

No such luck.

Interviewing some expert on the subject, the host asked something like, “So, is there any mention of Jesus in the Scrolls?”

“No,” said the expert.

The host seemed surprised; he asked once again. And the expert again denied any mention of Jesus.

As I remember it, they stood there shaking their heads, as if this somehow shot huge holes in the foundation of Christianity.

I kept waiting for one of them to say, “But then again, the Scrolls were completed at least 100 years before Jesus was born, so of course they wouldn’t mention Him.”

Or, “Why, yes, Jesus was foretold in many places in the Old Testament – which is what the Dead Sea Scrolls have shown us, nearly all the books of the Old Testament, written before Jesus was born. If we look in the book of Isaiah, for instance …”

But they just stood there, letting this alleged omission hang there, as if it somehow represented evidence extremely damaging to Christianity.

That, at least, is the impression I would have had if I didn’t know better. And they gave that impression without telling a single overt lie.

Did this really happen? I wonder now, as I write about it: It almost seems too outrageous to be real. Maybe I’m losing my mind.

Or maybe I’m not.
​
We used to talk about TV being a vast wasteland. But I don’t think that’s quite true anymore. I think it’s becoming dangerous to children and other living things.

(from Heaven Without Her, pages 173-175)

​This summer, I’ve spent countless hours engaged in a battle with aegopodium, AKA Snow on the Mountain, Bishop’s Weed, or Gardener’s Worst Enemy.
 
We didn’t introduce this plant to our property. It was here when we moved in almost 30 years ago – just a tiny patch in a forlorn little flower bed in the northeast corner of our lot.
 
Truth be told, it was actually kind of pretty back then, with its delicate variegation, and it seemed to thrive on neglect. For the next few years it confined itself politely to its little bed while I stripped the landscape to make room for burgeoning collections of plants that had managed to steal my heart – mainly roses of every type, size and color, but also everything from peonies to iris, daylilies to anemones and clematis.
 
Our aegopodium patch did start to expand its territory in 1994. But that was the same year that we brought home a cocker spaniel puppy with a taste for the stuff. And over the next 15 years – much to his vet’s dismay – The Beaver kept it well under control, even as it set its sights on distant beds.
 
Alas, The Beaver died in 2009, turning his gardening duties over to a basset hound whose heart really wasn’t in it. And the oh-so-patient aegopodium finally made its move.
 
By May of 2016, this thug – cleverly marketed as a “groundcover” by sadistic plant merchants everywhere – had spread out in massive drifts throughout a quarter-acre of backyard flower beds, devouring scores of prized perennials along the way and threatening the survival of even the toughest shrub roses. It was even starting to revert to non-variegated species in spots, a development that strikes terror in the heart of any serious gardener.
 
Clearly, further delay would mean defeat.
 
I consulted the best gardening chat rooms and horticultural sites and spent weeks applying what sounded like the most promising technique – ripping out the tops, giving it a week to regenerate, and then dousing the new growth with Spectracide concentrate.
 
So far, it hasn’t worked very well. I’ve had to reapply the weed killer repeatedly as new little leaves poke up through the battered soil. (Not that Spectracide is ineffective; no matter how careful I've been with its application, it has killed just about everything else in the vicinity.)
 
Plan B seems to be working a little better, at least for now. It involves digging up the soil to a depth of a foot and physically removing the roots, still plump and white and pumping out leaflets even after all that Spectracide. It’s hard work, with miles of roots forming impenetrable mats beneath the surface of the soil. It’s also a painstaking task; as I discovered early on, if you leave even a trace of root in the ground, it’ll bounce back with renewed vigor.
 
To date, I’ve filled more than 30 enormous lawn bags with roots. And I’ve barely made a dent in the project.
 
But there’s an upside to this battle. It's mindless work and it has given me plenty of time to meditate on some of my favorite biblical horticultural analogies, especially the Parable of the Sower (see Matthew 13 and Luke 8). You probably know the story, and the part about the thorns rising up to choke out the good seed – a small tragedy that just about any veteran gardener has experienced.  
 
The message is clear: As Christians, it’s our duty to sow the seeds of the gospel, and nurture them through germination and on to maturity. That means watering and fertilizing, of course. But just as important, it means destroying any weeds that may threaten our new treasures – the weeds of false doctrines and carnal concerns, for instance, which can spread like crazy in such carefully prepared soil.
 
On a more personal level, my aegopodium war has also given me ample time to think about how the roots of sin can lurk in our hearts. They may not surface in our lives until the conditions are just perfect. But beneath our squeaky clean façades, these roots can grow unchallenged into pertinacious tangles of iniquity, ultimately breaking out to damage the cause of Christ.
 
Fortunately, the Lord always provides an escape – in this case, by recognizing and confessing the presence of sin and inviting Him to conduct a thorough search-and-destroy mission.  
 
I have no doubt that these battles will continue to rage until the Lord returns. Surely my aegopodium will be tormenting gardeners decades from now, should He tarry. And surely we’ll all head to the brink of eternity with our hearts still frustrated by the most stubborn sin.
 
The good news is that God’s children are assured of a happy ending. One glorious day, human sin will be ancient history. And I suspect that aegopodium’s thuggy ways will be, too.

A few years back, a young man I know bought himself a new mulching lawn mower from a local Toro dealer. He loaded it in his truck and headed for home, almost beside himself with excitement; the sales rep had promised that its mulching feature would transform his lawn in very short order. “Just put some gas in and fire it up,” the salesman said. “You won’t believe the results!”
 
Unfortunately, the young man followed the salesman's instructions to the letter, not pausing to check the instructions. Which means he missed the part about putting in both gas and motor oil before operating his new machine. As a result, the engine soon seized up and died. And not surprisingly, the dealership refused to replace the mower, insisting quite rightly that the young man should have read the operator manual.
 
It was a costly mistake. But what’s really sad is that the young man apparently did not learn his lesson about the importance of reading the directions; he recently told a mutual friend that he was definitely heaven-bound, because he’d been following his priest’s instructions almost perfectly.
 
It seems that this young man didn’t feel the need to consult our Manufacturer’s instructions personally. Once again, he’d chosen to rely on the word of a middleman.

Sadly, he’s far from alone. According to Christian researcher Barna, today only about one-third of Americans say they crack open their Bibles at least once a week.  And even among the well-churched, many let a minister, pastor or priest tell them what God has said instead of doing their own research. As a result, far too many are missing the most important part of all – the part about how to become irrevocably heaven-bound.  
 
I talk to such trusting souls all the time, especially among the elderly who’ve spent their entire lives following man-made instructions as faithfully as humanly possible.
 
“I sure hope so,” they say when asked if they’re sure they’re going to heaven. The reason? Almost invariably, it’s some variation on “I’ve tried to live a good life.” Often, they proceed to list all the things they’ve done, from going to church and performing the requisite sacraments to saying their prayers and doing lots of good deeds.
 
Alas, these people remain ignorant of what’s arguably the Bible’s most important message: Eternal life is not a reward for a life well-lived. It is God’s free gift to all who repent and trust in Jesus Christ to have paid the penalty for their sins.  
 
In the end, the cost of ignoring the directions will depend on what’s at stake. Blowing up a lawn mower will set you back hundreds of dollars. But that’s nothing compared to the everlasting tragedy of ignoring the word of God.
 
Bottom line? Begin studying the Bible now, before it's too late – and encourage your friends and loved ones to join you! 

If you’ve been a Christian for any length of time, chances are you’ve been exposed to the idea that we all share a few common beliefs, beyond which are simple denominational differences – differences that are all equally valid, and mostly irrelevant. 
 
Sounds good, doesn’t it? It’s just so very tolerant of us – and we all know that tolerance is the #1 virtue in our world today.
 
Indeed, it would be just fine if the differences had to do with open-to-debate issues such as identifying the Nephilim or the Antichrist, or more subjective topics such as musical styles or hats and hair length.
 
But that's not where it ends. We disagree over foundational issues. And when we begin taking those issues off the table, we really have very little left in common. In fact, it seems that the only thing that everyone agrees on is that Jesus’ death is related in some way to paying the penalty for sin. 
 
But that’s about it. Within the professing church, there’s no agreement about how much of the world’s sin He paid for, or whose sin He paid for, or how one goes about availing oneself of whatever payment might be available. 
 
In short, today’s church is so unified in its appreciation of theological diversity that we are not even able, with one voice, to tell a seeker how he or she can be assured of eternity in heaven. Even though it's spelled out clearly in the Bible.
 
According to the ultra-tolerant “all viewpoints welcome” crowd, this is not a problem. Whatever works for you is fine; and for Pete’s sake, don’t argue about it. Don’t be distracted by this issue. Don’t be divisive. Don’t be like those dowdy legalists who object to makeup and hair dye. 
 
One could refute this idea point by point. But I have done so at length in the past, and in the end, it’s a waste of time. Once a professing Christian is convinced that it doesn’t really matter why Jesus died, or whom He died for, he or she is free to welcome any and all ideas (except, apparently, for those held by fuddy-duddy fundamentalists). 
 
Could this indifference to truth be what the apostle Paul was referring to in 2 Thessalonians 2, when he wrote: “The coming of the lawless one is according to the working of Satan … with all unrighteous deception among those who perish, because they did not receive the love of the truth, that they might be saved. And for this reason God will send them strong delusion, that they should believe the lie, that they all may be condemned who did not believe the truth but had pleasure in unrighteousness …” (emphasis added)
 
Is apathy towards truth part of the strong delusion? Is the “I’m okay, you’re okay” philosophy a sign of finding pleasure in the admiration of a world that worships at the altar of tolerance? 
 
I am reminded of Pilate: “What is truth?” I am reminded of the serpent: “Hath God really said?” But I suppose that’s a divisive thing to say, so I won’t go there.
 
But there is one thing I wish the “anything goes” gang would think about. And that’s why, if tolerance is so crucial to the church’s success, has Christianity been crashing and burning in the west over the last 60 years, just as this movement has taken over our seminaries and pulpits?  
 
Ironically, we can’t even agree that there’s a problem, can we? But you don’t have to look far for proof of this decline. 
 
If you have a strong stomach, try googling a phrase such as “empty churches in the U.S.” or “empty churches in Europe.” Or spend some time reviewing the​ Religion News Service’s updated analysis, summarized in the chart shown above. 
 
Then please ‘splain why it’s such a good thing that the church can’t even agree on the gospel of Jesus Christ. 

I’ve been thinking about idols a lot lately – all those things that we humans are prone to putting in God’s place, from wealth, possessions, romance and position to food, entertainment, education, safety, personal health and fitness.  
 
I’ve been thinking, too, about how guilty I remain of dwelling on temporal things, after all these years of seeking and worshiping the living God. I still spend more time and energy on my garden than the average bear; more idle hours on old books and old movies; more money on special foods, toys and veterinary care to keep our pets happy and healthy. And that’s just a start; it seems that every day, I find new ways of putting other things before my Savior.
 
How about you? Do you find yourself idolizing anything (or anyone) by ardently:

• Seeking it, in order to know it
• Pursuing it, in a drive to possess it
• Thinking of it extensively and perhaps exclusively
• Fearing, and protecting against, its loss
• Spending a ton of money on it
• Talking about it to anyone who’ll listen
• Devoting excessive amounts of time to it

 
Of course, some of these things are inescapable. We have to earn some money, to care for our families, to keep our homes from becoming eyesores, even to take decent care of our bodies -- which are, after all, the temple of the Holy Spirit. And surely, as our Good Shepherd, the Lord wants us to have life, “and have it more abundantly” (John 10:10); He invented pleasure, and gave us lots to enjoy in this life. 
 
But for each of us, there are lines that we can cross into idolatry. We’d best be on the lookout for it in our own hearts, guard against it prayerfully as we meditate over scripture, and be prepared to flee from it, as the apostle Paul advises in 1 Corinthians 10. 
 
Fortunately, as Paul also tells us in this chapter, resisting idolatry is far from impossible for the child of God.   “No temptation has overtaken you except such as is common to man,” he wrote. “But God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will also make the way of escape, that you may be able to bear it.”