The religious environment Jesus grew up in, lived his whole life in, preached and taught in, was very concerned with “cleanness” and “uncleanness”. Among the religious leadership, it was an obsession.

A secular management consultant would tell you that the apostle Paul perfectly constructs his first letter to the church in Corinth. He has a number of criticisms and corrections he needs to convey. But first, he begins with some commendations. In fact really glowing praise for his recipients.

In the reading plan I’m using, I’m brought once again to Exodus, Probably we would work it out, but we don’t have to guess. We’re told plainly that the Exodus and Israel’s experience in the wilderness are “types” (that is, allegorical figures) of ourselves. Paul says it in 1 Corinthians 10:1-12. (Many versions read “examples for us” rather than the stronger and more accurate “types of us”.)

I’m dirt. Or at least, descended from dirt. We may not be able to trace our genealogy across thousands of years, but we know that eventually we get all the way back to Adam and Eve. Eve’s origin? Constructed from the DNA taken from Adam. (Genesis 2:21-22) And Adam’s origin? Dirt. (verse 7)

Apparently I’m not the only one who has a problem with the thoughts I entertain in my mind. If it was just me, the apostle Paul wouldn’t have had to counsel others a long time ago:

It might be something terrible—a crippling accident, or the loss of someone we’re very close to, something like that. Or it might be something wonderful—the birth of a child, suddenly being given a way to escape a war-torn country. Whether wonderful or terrible, there are life-changing events, that forever divide life into “before” and “after”.

The disciples asked a question we would also intensely like to ask Jesus: “Tell us, when will these things be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?” (Matthew 24:3) The amazing thing is, he answered. This, as you know, is his Olivet prophecy.

Perhaps you sometimes feel like this, as I do sometimes: The man declares, I am weary, O God; I am weary, O God, and worn out. Surely I am too stupid to be a man. I have not the understanding of a man. I have not learned wisdom, nor have I knowledge of the Holy One. (Proverbs 30:1-3)

Matt’s cheeks are aching, but he can’t keep the huge grin off his face. He can’t believe what’s just happened. He’s walked by this vacant lot every day for years, going to and from work. It’s overgrown with weeds, and he’s never taken a shortcut through the empty lot. But on his way home today, out of curiosity Matt had decided to cut through. Halfway across, he’d come across the foundation of a house, mostly filled in with trash. The house must have fallen down a long time ago; he’s never heard anyone even mention that there used to be a house there.

The end of another year is approaching as I write this. If you are following almost any daily Bible reading plan, at this time of year you’ll be reading the book of Revelation. Or—unfortunately—you may be skipping it. A lot of people feel daunted by all the symbolism. I’d just like to suggest a reason to not skip it.

Medical research has shown that laughter is good for us, in fact really good for us. Laughter actually makes us physically healthier. It enhances mental health. And it promotes healthy social interactions.

The account is familiar. On the day of his resurrection, Jesus talked with two followers as they walked from Jerusalem to Emmaus. They didn’t recognize him—exactly how he looked different we aren’t told. They told him of their crushing disappointment due to Jesus’s death. His response was to give probably the greatest Bible class ever.

We like this: Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30)

What comes into your mind when you hear the word “shipwreck”? It’s an event far beyond merely bad, it’s desperately bad. A disaster. Literal shipwrecks result in huge losses for the owners of the ship and cargo. Often, there is loss of life too. There may be no survivors at all.

Jesus said things that were hard to understand. And he said some things that were understood, but were hard to accept. The prime example occurs on the day following the feeding of the 5,000. The crowd came wanting more free food and Jesus rebuked them for it, then went on to talk about eating his body and drinking his blood. This was appalling language—and still is. The result? “When many of his disciples heard it, they said, ‘This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?’… After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him.” (John 6:26-69)

It seems like Jesus’s disciples were focused much of the time on trivialities, things that were very short term or weren’t really important.

The event we call “the transfiguration” is recorded by Matthew, Mark and Luke. In all three, it immediately follows Jesus stating, “There are some standing here who will not taste death until they see the kingdom of God.” (Matthew 16:28, Mark 9:1, Luke 9:27)

When Jesus visited his hometown synagogue, we’re told he did the scripture reading “as was his custom”, and then sat down to teach from the passage. (Luke 4:16-21) It’s here we learn that Jesus had acted as a rabbi (perhaps not the rabbi) in this synagogue for some time, prior to the official start of his ministry. No doubt he gained valuable experience as a teacher in this way, and he also would have become very familiar with the scriptures. Every teacher will tell you that they learn more than their students, by having to prepare the lessons.

Before we get into the relationship between Herod and John the Baptist, we have to pin down which “Herod” we’re talking about. As you may know, there’s more than one, and we need some sort of program that identifies the cast of characters.

The accounts that have come to us in the Bible are greatly compressed. Incidents are recorded in a paragraph, when they actually must have taken hours or days. Conversations that occupy a sentence or two were surely longer. Sometimes decades or generations are skipped over entirely.