From Stone to Flesh
The word we translate as “law” means something aimed at a target. What changes when you see where it was always pointing?
The word we translate as “law” means something aimed at a target. What changes when you see where it was always pointing?
“Hypocrite” comes from a Greek word for a stage actor in a mask. But break the word into its parts, and a second, more uncomfortable picture appears — one that may live closer to home than the Pharisees.
The word translated “repentance” in English points to guilt, remorse, a promise to do better. The Greek word it translates — metanoia — points somewhere else entirely. And the difference is the whole game.
“In the beginning was the Word.” We picture text on a page — something spoken, written, gone in a moment. But the word John actually wrote means almost the opposite of that. And it changes who he’s saying Jesus is.
A book lets you skip to the last page and read how it ends. A scroll won’t. In Revelation, the seven seals are sealed shut in a way that’s doing far more than we tend to notice.
“The kingdom of heaven is like leaven…” If leaven is a symbol of sin, why would Jesus compare the kingdom of God to it? A few questions worth sitting with — Matthew 13:33.
God gave Israel a calendar that began in spring. But spring depends on where you’re standing.
The Bible can feel like a table full of dumped puzzle pieces — scattered, mixed up, and salted with fake pieces we mistake for real ones. So how does anyone ever see the picture? And what is the picture? It has a name.
God spoke directly to the prophets — many times, many ways. So why does it seem he doesn’t speak that way to us? The question has an answer, and it changes where you go to listen.
Most of us equate the Bible with “the Word of God.” But how does the Bible itself define that phrase? Two passages answer it directly — and without a word of commentary added.