Steal yourself

You are in the supermarket, by the stationery counter, and someone walks up to the shelf, picks up a pen and puts it in his/her pocket, then just walks out of the store. Your natural reaction is to think, “He stole that.” You might even start to shout about it, or run to the security man and tell him. People shouldn’t be able to do that. They shouldn’t get away with it. It’s stealing. It’s wrong. It’s sin. “Thief! Stop thief!”

Either or not neither

I remember the first multi-choice exam I ever sat. It was in History, and I thought it was a brilliant idea, especially when I got the result. As far as I can remember, each question had four possible answers, so my chances of getting the the right answer went up from zero to one in four! It was easier to think about which one to pick than to think up an answer. History and I parted company soon after.

We all like choice, and the more choice we have the better, eh? Sometimes we make the right choice, sometimes the wrong one. Sometimes we get spoiled for choice, and we end up flipping a coin. Sometimes, though, we are spoiled by choice, not for it.

Your way away

Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun.
(Psalm 37:5-6)

The Hebrew for the start of this text is “Roll your way upon Yahweh.” It makes me think of those vehicles which lay tracks in front of them, so that they can move forward over a bad surface, and so that others can follow the same way.

What goes down!

I have been reading an amazing book – Faith and Doubt, by John Ortberg. In part of the book, John explains that there are three kinds of faith: the faith that we say we have. This is what I call “Sunday faith”. It is where we tell people that we have faith for something, but…

Syrup of figs

In the morning, as Jesus was returning to Jerusalem, he was hungry, and he noticed a fig tree beside the road. He went over to see if there were any figs, but there were only leaves. Then he said to it, “May you never bear fruit again!” And immediately the fig tree withered up.

The magic word

When my son was about 3 years old, he was at the birthday party of one of his friends. With his glass in his hand, he went to his friend’s mum and asked, “Can I have another drink?”

The mother looked at him, and said, “Yes, Simon, but what is the magic word?” Simon stood, puzzled. “Come on, Simon,” she said, “what is the magic word?”

Living Dead

I read a report the other day that death rates are falling in the UK. As I was saying in a recent post, I like numbers, and I am fairly good at Maths. On the basis of my love of numbers, I would like to correct that report. I might sound like a boring, gloomy accountant, but death rates are not falling, they never will. They will always be 100%.