A man once said to me, “Do not let your intellect interfere with your intelligence.” This missive has never left me alone. Imagine if Chicken Little had heard this and adopted it as his mantra. The sky would not have fallen, and Chicken Little would not have wasted all that worry. Sometimes I think our approach to the Christian life is the same, too much intellect and not enough intelligence. Perhaps too much has been written about the meaning of this or that verse and chapte

The wearied soul tires from the burden he contemplates, this burden of knowing the love and peace his Lord has granted him yet evading his neighbor who goes on wishing for proof that God lives and loves. Even his Christian brother engages by the reasoned argument, an ever so subtle means to confine his Lord, though he admits to himself the reasoned why  can be light to an otherwise lost soul, a segue to opening a hardened heart. What tires him are the echoes from the clamorin

Junior just couldn’t shake it, this idea about leaven being evil that Preacher Pat planted with the congregation. The thought just didn’t resonate, but then, he was not Jewish and life in the first century was foreign to him. He understood a little more about boll weevils because around Four Holes it seemed like recent history. He came from a line of cotton farmers, and the family stories were filtered through the War of Northern Aggression and the boll weevil. Still, leaven