jefftolle

He's got a point

Kills me all the time 😂😂🤣

I know this man personally: David Gibbs. What he’s telling is true; and I love it …

5 Ways to Improve Preaching 1. Meditate on the text before exegeting the text. Seek an encounter with God before preaching about him. 2. Rigorously exegete before consulting commentaries. Create space to be captivated by the truth before proclaiming the truth. 3. Identify the main idea and make sure each main point supports the main idea. Restate points. Repetition is the mother of all learning.

People often apply Paul’s “tentmaking” (Acts 18:3) to missionary work, which is a fine thing to do. But something far bigger is happening here. Yes, Paul was literally a tentmaker. Yet his occupation carries rich theological overtones. For just as Jesus deliberately chose fishermen (Matt. 4:18) to become fishers of men (Matt. 4:19), the Lord does something similar with the apostle Paul: Ad fontes: The Greek word for “tentmaker,” skēnopoios (σκηνοποιός), is a compound: it joins the verb poieō (ποιέω, “to make”) with the noun skēnē (σκηνή). In the NT that second word is sometimes rendered “tent” (Heb. 11:9) or “dwelling” (Luke 16:9), but it is far more commonly translated “tabernacle” (Acts 7:43–44; 15:16; Heb. 8:2, 5; Rev. 21:3). Similarly, in the Septuagint (LXX)—the Greek translation of the OT—the same term repeatedly refers to the tabernacle itself (Ex. 25:9; 26:1, 6–7, 9, 12–18, 22–27; 27:9, etc.) and/or the “tent of meeting” (Ex. 27:21; 28:43; 29:4, 10–11, etc.). Even the permanent temple that later replaced the tabernacle is poetically called a “tent” in the Psalms (Ps. 27:4–5; Ps. 41:5 LXX [cf. Ps. 42:4 MT]). And in Amos 9:11—which James applies to Paul’s Gentile missionary activity in Acts 15:16—the word skēnē (σκηνή) refers to the restored lineage or dynasty of David, pointing to the fulfillment of God’s promise in 2 Samuel 7:12–13: “I will raise up your offspring after you… and he shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever.” Still with me? Now recall Jesus’ earthly trade. He was, quite famously, a tektōn (τέκτων)—a “carpenter” (Matt. 13:55; Mark 6:3). It’s not a bad translation, but it doesn’t capture the fullness of that term’s use in the OT. Again, in the LXX, the same Greek word is used of the craftsmen who built, and later repaired, the temple (2 Sam. 5:11; 1 Kgs. 7:14; 2 Kgs. 12:11–12; 22:5–6; 1 Chron. 22:15; Ezra 3:6–7). That’s quite a different image than a cabinetmaker. In other words, Jesus Christ, the Son of David (Luke 1:39; Rom. 1:5), is the one who took on flesh and “tabernacled” among us (John 1:14). As the master tektōn, he came to build the true house of God—which is his body (John 2:19–21), and, by extension, the people who are joined to him by faith (1 Cor. 3:16–17; Eph. 2:21). With that great work complete, the apostle Paul is commissioned to start living, tabernacle-like outposts of the Lord’s temple (i.e., the church) in every corner of the world. So, yes, Paul literally sewed canvas and stretched leather. But in the providence of God, his earthly occupation was a symbol of his heavenly mission: to raise portable sanctuaries where the presence of God would dwell among the nations.

This might be the craziest way to win a state championship. The kid struck out, but the pitch hit the dirt and nobody threw to first because the other team thought the game was over. While they were celebrating, the runners kept going...

When I was a single mom, my car was breaking down, I needed to pay preschool tuition for my daughter so I could work, and I needed groceries. I had enough money in my account EITHER to fix my car OR to pay preschool tuition. If I bought groceries I wouldn't have enough for either thing. As we drove home from work I pulled into the Vons shopping center by our home and just sat in the car, half-praying and half-stressing about buying groceries and what to do about my bills on Monday if I did buy them. My kids were in the backseat and as I sat there sort of frozen with anxiety my son, who was 7, started saying, "MOM. MOM! There is something in the seat POKING ME. MOM!" and then he started yelling "WHY IS THERE MONEY IN THE CAR?" I'm not kidding. The kid was yelling -- I snapped out of my brain fog and turned around from the driver's seat to see what he was yelling about. He was holding an envelope stuffed with cash. For some reason he thought "robbers" had hid money in our car and were coming back for it. LOL I love little kid assumptions. Anyway, the cash amounted to exactly what I needed to get my car fixed, with enough left over for a week's worth of groceries. I sort of felt scared walking into the store to shop. I had no idea where the money had come from. In a daze, I got yogurt, chicken, milk, and some produce. I had a little money left over for whatever else we might need later in the week. I paid and drove home, and tried to explain to my kids why I kept crying and that, though I didn't understand it, God had heard my prayers. Later we figured it out and I got a friend who lived 10 hours away to confess: about 6 months earlier she'd come to visit us. She had a strong impression she believed was from the Lord that she needed to give me a certain amount of money. But it was money I didn't need to spend right then. So she put it in an envelope and stuck it in the back pocket of my driver's seat and prayed that God would allow me to find it when I most needed to spend it. It sat there for 6 months until that day in the parking lot when, inexplicably, it started to "poke" my son's foot in a way he couldn't ignore and he found it. I have so many stories like this from times of desperate need. I don't know why I'm ever afraid. I am sometimes. I am afraid about things. But with memories like this, I shouldn't be. Thank you for sharing this video, Melissa. It's lovely. And it reminding me of my own stories of unexpected blessing.

To any who survived rock bottom… what’s one piece of advice you’d give to someone who feels like giving up right now?

Great balance of showing compassion while sharing truth as Wes Huff responds to the question of why a good God would allow evil: "Well, that is arguably the hardest and most pressing apologetic question there is, because ultimately, the very tidy philosophical and theological answer isn't the right answer sometimes. You know, sometimes the right answer to the wrong question is the wrong answer, because I've encountered situations where someone has brought up a variation of the problem of evil to me, and I've just felt uneasy about maybe the tenor that they're coming at with the question...and asking them, 'You know, that's a great question. Why are you asking that question in particular?' and finding out once again (like the previous question related to it), they're personally hurting. And so, in that sense, I could give a tidy answer about if you're positing that something is good, you're positing that there's an objective good and evil, and if there's an objective good and evil, then you're positing an objective law, and objective law needs an objective lawgiver. So where do we find the groundwork for an objective lawgiver to begin with? Otherwise, you may not like certain things, but to say they ought not to happen is actually an ethical leap to an objective reality that you may or may not have groundwork for. But if that person is struggling because a family member of theirs has cancer, then that particular, maybe tidy, tied-up-in-a-nice-bow answer is not going to speak to them whatsoever. And so that's why that's the hardest question because there are actually very good answers to it, but often it doesn't speak to the person in front of you, because questions have questioners that sit behind them. And one of the pitfalls of my chosen field of ministry apologetics is that sometimes we give answers where we talk at people rather than with people. And there's a danger to that because the Christian faith isn't just an intellectual assent, right? It's a personal relationship. And that should also be played out in the answers that we give..."