I’m sure some of you more distinguished theologians drink better whiskey than I do.
We’ll forgive Aimee Byrd for preferring Jack Daniels to Scotch. The rest of her article is good fun and good advice, particularly to young people in the church:
Often, when one first discovers the beauty of good theology, maybe sparked by the introduction of the doctrines of grace, they enter what has been referred to as the infamous “cage stage.” They want to proselytize all their family and friends. But it backfires because the overzealous enthusiasm can be a bit of a turn off. A good theologian needs to be mellowed for smoothness.
A surprisingly effective metaphor.
As ever, beautiful and poignant words from Cat Hartley:
The night that Berenger died was hot and sleep was scarce. I read Psalm 139 and was struck by two things: God has many many thoughts about us and he has all of our days mapped out for us, already. It’s an amazing combination of intimate concentration and attention to detail. He is in no way detached, he knows all of our days – but this does not make us old news. He still thinks about us. I guess it’s like being in love, when your thoughts gravitate towards a person again and again, not to get new insights or information, but because you really love them. Because thinking about them brings a smile to your face. Then in the morning, my phone flashed with a tear-choked voice mail message. Berenger’s days had been way shorter than any of us had thought.
But not God.