... and wipe it away. Early one morning a businessman stopped to look at the painting. He was joined by a newspaper boy making his early morning rounds. After a few moments of silence, the man turned to walk away, shaking his head, tears misting his eyes and muttering to himself: “What a pity and what a shame!” The newspaper boy heard him. And as the man started across the street, the boy shouted after him: “Hey, Mister! Didn’t you know? Haven’t you heard? He ain’t dead anymore. He’s alive! He’s ...
... have been a strange confession for the people in the temple at Jerusalem who had engaged the Galilean in discussion. Crowds had gathered for the feast of tabernacles, and John tells us of a lot of muttering among the people. While some thought he was a good man, others claimed that he was leading them astray. But the muttering was at the level of a whisper, for they feared those who believed in him. In the climax of the dialogue that followed, when they had the opportunity to meet him and to listen to his ...
... with the family. While he prayed, the doctor could not help overhearing a disturbance in the room. It was an interruption to the pastor’s prayer. The doctor was curious, and he looked up to see the source of the muttering that seemed to be running contrary to the prayer. He noticed that the muttering was coming from the dying man’s father who was on the opposite side of the bed from the pastor and who was cursing. When the doctor looked directly at the father, he could understand the words. The man was ...
... . In the midst of all this, there is the constant crying of a new born baby in the next apartment. The frustrated old man knocks on the wall for silence again and again, to no avail. He curses the irritating sounds of new life, and as he continues in the muttering of nothings, the old clock on the wall runs down, and to no purpose he breathes his last gasp, while the dusty curtain falls. It was no wonder that I walked to my hotel in despair. My faith said to me: "Thank God, this is not a picture of life ...
... . Some were obviously drunk, some mentally disturbed, some articulate, some apparently incomprehensible. As Bryars made his way through the audio and video footage, he became aware of a constant undercurrent, a repeating sound that always accompanied the presence of one older man. At first the sound seemed like muttered gibberish. But after removing the background street noise and cleaning up the audio tape, Bryars discovered the old man was in fact singing. Ironically, the footage of this old man and his ...
... the YouTube video, or with a challenge like this one: What if we were to covenant with each other this morning that we would commit to going 24 hours without uttering a complaint of any kind. Try it. Just go 24 hours without uttering or muttering a complaint. A no complaints day. By no complaints I mean no email complaints, no twitter complaining, no phone irritation or personal griping. Just 24 hours. And for those same 24 hours, we would commit ourselves to bringing some joy, some smile, some happiness to ...
... apart by the pangs of shame and guilt. We are humiliated by the hurtful words we have spoken in anger. We are devastated by the helpful things we have left undone. We stay awake at night awash in the pain of grief. We listen to absurd chirping and muttering of anyone and anything that promises an easy way out of our bondage. On the one hand, we, like God's people in our text, are surrounded by thick, pessimistic, faithless darkness. On the other hand, God's hand, the Lord never abandons God's children. God ...
... beneath it. When Jesus reached the sycamore tree, he looked up and said, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” Zacchaeus came down at once and welcomed Jesus into his home gladly. The people in the crowd saw this and began to mutter, “He has gone to be the guest of a ‘sinner.’” They were right. Zacchaeus was a sinner of the worst kind. As we noted, he was the chief tax collector for the Roman government in the prospering city of Jericho. It was a coveted position ...
... . William R. Burrows, the managing editor of Orbis Books once wrote something that drew a hearty “Amen” from many pastors. “Preaching on sin,” he wrote, “is perhaps the most difficult thing a pastor can do. On one side of the church are those who seethe, muttering under their breath, ‘What’s he trying to do, bring back all the guilt I had such a hard time getting rid of in therapy?’ and on the other side are those who sit waiting for condemnations of the loose standards of today’s church ...
... . His senior year of college, he felt called by God to spread the Gospel. But how? Should he go to seminary? should he be a missionary? Waiting for guidance, he decided ta work for a year or so as a bus driver in Chicago. "Same place for witness," he muttered to himself as he drove his route through inner city streets, "some place to serve Jesus." On the route, a group of high school boys, no, I mean, young hoods got on his bus every afternoon for a ride downtown. They would get an, stroll past the fare box ...
... when they have us stick out our tongues and say, "Ah." God can sadly tell what is wrong with us when what we say reveals selfishness or partiality. James warns against saying to the ones with gold rings and fair clothes, "Have a seat here, please," while we mutter to the poor, "Stand there," or "Sit at my feet" (James 2:2-3). We are not to make free with our freedom of speech. "If any think they are religious, and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless"Ê(James 1 ...
... has been given as a birthday gift to the leading lady of a group of actors from England. It is being passed from hand to hand through the company. They all find the figure grotesque and its fertility symbolism embarrassing. There is mocking laughter and muttered comments as the actors point out its strange features to one another. Inspector Roderick Alleyn is a bit ashamed for them and apologizes to a Maori doctor who is dining with them and has explained the figure's significance. "Oh," the doctor replies ...
... seeing an old friend we haven't seen for years and we get all beside ourselves and we say in our excitement: "I can't believe it! I can't believe it's really you!" That's disbelieving for joy. Well, while the disciples stood around with their jaws open muttering, "I can't believe it! It's him! I can't believe it!" Jesus sat and ate and that clinched it. They had seen him eat with them many times and this was Jesus. And as they gathered around him, Jesus began teaching again. He used this last appearance to ...
... faith you could get out of this mess." "I know how you feel." "AIDS, after all, is their own fault." These statements are cruel and harsh. William Willimon has suggested that "most of us, realizing the inadequacy of our theology of chaos have learned to mutter the more sophisticated, 'Well, er, uh, we'll be thinking about you.' " In his book, The Spiritual Life, Robert Cole interviews little Margarita whose life is characterized by the brutal hillside favela in Rio.When I look at Jesus up there (she points ...
... equipment that had become a part of the 1990s business office. But most disconcerting of all was the impatience of the younger women who worked with her. They were irritated when she asked to have something explained to her a second time. They muttered under their breath when the new computer constantly frustrated her. They complained when they had to take time to show her where basic items such as postage stamps were kept. The exasperation of the younger women so unnerved Tony's friend that she ...
... known only to adolescents, I sat moping on the sofa in one of those don't-associate-with-anybody moods. As the 'Beer Barrel Polka' began to play, my father came over with outstretched hand. But I glared at him with icy indifference. 'Just leave me alone,' I muttered under my breath. Startled, he turned, and never invaded my privacy again. He danced with my mother, he danced with my sisters, but not with me. "I'd come home from a date, and he'd be waiting for me in the old chair -- his bathrobe loosely tied ...
... the same familiar sight of a man and a boy working side by side in the garden. Only this time the boy was Paul. "You still have him then?" Cronin inquired. "Yes," Henry Adams replied, "and he is doing much better now." "All I can say to you, Paul," Cronin muttered, "is that you're a pretty lucky boy." "Dr. Cronin," Henry interrupted, "you don't need to bother trying to pronounce his name anymore, either. He is now Paul Adams. We have adopted him. He is now the son we lost." That's the kind of love God has ...
... and concern because "they sat upon the ground with him silently for seven days and seven nights; not speaking a word; for they saw that his suffering was too great for words." As long as these friends were silent, they gave Job what he needed. Perhaps he muttered to himself, "They are still my friends in spite of what has happened. Our friendship did not depend on what I could give them. They are agonizing over my condition and are sitting here with me because they love me. I am so fortunate to have that ...
... wants to discover is whether it was properly scheduled on the church calendar. This is typical of the institutional mindset, and who could blame this man if he chose to spend the rest of his sabbaths sleeping late, playing tennis all afternoon and muttering, "Frankly, I'm not into organized religion"? Thus, the theme of this story seems to be Jesus versus the institution. Jesus saves; the system spanks. So, love Jesus and seek out a life-giving personal relationship with him, but keep your distance from ...
... to go ... so we went.And we found the baby boy, just like they said. That babywas real and so was the stable we were told to head for.What a thrill! I still can't get over it! The Messiah isfinally here!" "A baby," Matthal muttered. No, the Messiah would comeon a donkey, would ride it into Jerusalem, would lead amighty army against Rome. No, no baby. That would be souseless. As Matthal thought, Jerod babbled on about the youngmother and father, how they were strangers, how they camefor the census, about ...
... said to go ... so we went. And we found the baby boy, just like they said. That baby was real and so was the stable we were told to head for. What a thrill! I still can't get over it! The Messiah is finally here!" "A baby," Matthal muttered. No, the Messiah would come on a donkey, would ride it into Jerusalem, would lead a mighty army against Rome. No, no baby. That would be so useless. As Matthal thought, Jerod babbled on about the young mother and father, how they were strangers, how they came for the ...
... the same familiar sight of a man and a boy working side by side in the garden. Only this time the boy was Paul. "You still have him then?" Cronin inquired. "Yes," Henry Adams replied, "and he is doing much better now." "All I can say to you, Paul," Cronin muttered, "is that you're a pretty lucky boy." "Dr. Cronin," Henry interrupted, "you don't need to bother trying to pronounce his name anymore, either. He is now Paul Adams. We have adopted him. He is now the son we lost." That's the kind of love God has ...
... . Then I heard footsteps. I thought it might be the thieves coming back to finish the job, but as I squinted up at the sun, I realized it was a priest heading up towards Jerusalem. He looked at me and just shook his head. I could hear him muttering something about the sins of the father being passed on to the sons and grandsons. He said a prayer as he passed. Then he mumbled something about having to stay pure for worship. He moved on. "A little later, more footsteps. I moaned a little, thinking that it ...
... on. Then, comes daylight, and things are not nearly as desperate as we had supposed and our midnight confessions blend in with the morning mist and are chased away by the sun. My friends, your commitment and my commitment are not worth the breath they are muttered with unless they can be translated into the light of day. A commitment that is as good in daylight as in darkness is the kind of commitment we are reaching for. Nicodemus perhaps made a midnight resolve, "coming by night," but it could not stand ...
... Matthew refers to "a woman." Luke calls her "a woman of the streets."In Matthew, the woman pours the ointment over Jesus' head. In Luke, the ointment is applied to his feet.In Matthew, the disciples whine about wasted perfume. In Luke, the Pharisee mutters under his breath about Jesus wasting his time and emotion on an 'undeserving' woman. Both accounts contain complaints about that thing which is near and dear to each of us: wasted resources! Consequently, let us not be too nasty in our condemnation of the ...