Our world runs at a breakneck speed! Busyness seems to be both the universal complaint and the modern badge of honor. Our jobs demand huge chunks of our lives and many other admirable pursuits clamor for our time. Even children seem to careen from one activity to the next. Plus, as Christians we know we should be involved with our church! So we try to fit it all in, and our calendars become full, and we get less and less sleep. We hope that our constant activity will achieve success, honor, security—maybe even God’s glory—but as we scurry to the next appointment we think, “How can I get off this treadmill! Is this the way God wants me to live?”
The disciples had forgotten to bring bread, except for one loaf they had with them in the boat. “Be careful,” Jesus warned them. “Watch out for the yeast of the Pharisees and that of Herod.”
They discussed this with one another and said, “It is because we have no bread.”
Aware of their discussion, Jesus asked them: “Why are you talking about having no bread? Do you still not see or understand? Are your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes but fail to see, and ears but fail to hear? And don’t you remember? When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?”
“Twelve,” they replied.
“And when I broke the seven loaves for the four thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?”
They answered, “Seven.”
He said to them, “Do you still not understand?”
~ Mark 8:14-21
I love the book of Mark! I feel at home in the world it describes because the disciples don’t seem to see any better than I do. I find that reassuring. But, I’m not sure that most Christians are reassured by that. In fact, I was a little afraid to have people read the first two posts. They’re gonna think that I’m just not a real Christian, because if I were, I would see clearly. And when I say I’m a pastor they will probably think that I’m a liberal postmodern blind-leading-the-blind charlatan!
With a great deal of anticipation I loaded my fly rod into the back of our station wagon and drove to a familiar steep valley where a small spring creek meanders through farm land. It was a hot September afternoon—the season of the trico hatch—and my friends had been torturing me with stories of their success on the local streams. The Continue reading Fish Stories