Dr Paul Allen

Jesus entering Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. Fresco in the Parish Church of Zirl, Austria. (Photo credit: Wikipedia ) Passion Week begins with palms. Branches are cut from trees, hands are raised in praised, and the most important figure in history enters the greatest city in the first century for the most important week that’s ever been. This unrecognized prince has a rightful claim to the throne of his people as the heir of their most celebrated king. And yet he rides in manifest humility, on the back of a donkey’s colt — like no other ruler in the first century, or the twenty-first century, would dare stoop to do. And this, of course, is not the extent of his meekness and lowliness. He will stoop yet further this holy week, and then further still when he is “raised up” to the lowest of all places, to the utter shame and ignominy of a brutal public execution, even death on a cross. The Glow of Palm Sunday But for now, the week begins with the strange and wonderful glow of

Get Thee Behind Me, Satan (Photo credit: Wikipedia ) God gave Satan authority to interfere with all that Job possessed—“ Behold , all that he hath is in thy power.” All that a man possesses is at times not in the hand of God, but in the hand of the adversary, because God has never withdrawn that authority from Satan. The disasters that attend a man’s possessions are satanic in their origin and not of the haphazard order they seem to be. When Jesus Christ talked about discipleship He indicated that a disciple must be detached from property and possessions, for if a man’s life is in what he possesses, when disaster comes to his possessions, his life goes too (cf. Luke 12:15). Satan had been allowed to attack Job’s possessions; now his power is increased, and he is free to attack Job’s personal inheritance direct. When a man is hit by undeserved destruction, the immediate result is a slander against God—“Why should God allow this thing to happen?” There are people to-day who

Stained glass window in Long Beach showing John Knox admonishing Mary, Queen of Scots. From Covenant Presbyterian Church, Long Beach, California, USA (Photo credit: Wikipedia ) John Knox turns 500 this year. Actually, historians are not certain whether it was 1514 or 1515, but sometime around there, in the little market town of Haddington, Scotland , down the street from Saint Mary’s Church, Knox was born. As biographer Rosalind Marshall explains, much of Knox’s early life is unknown. He doesn’t enter the history books until his thirties, and what little we know about this life before then comes from pieces left for us by his contemporaries. For example, it’s believed that he attended Saint Andrews University and flourished in this studies, though there’s no evidence for it other than the word of Theodore Beza , his contemporary. Beza considered him a distinguished academician, and others called him “Mr. Knox” — a title reserved for those who held degrees. He likely spent som

Jesus meets John the Baptist (Photo credit: Wikipedia ) Repent sounds like such a religious word, like street preachers shouting, like moralists wagging fingers. But I learned a long time ago that the literal translation of " repent " is to turn around. "Hey, buddy, you're headed in the wrong direction"—that sounds like a helpful, kind word, not a scathing correction. I think it's this type of encouraging word that Jesus himself offers when he begins his ministry with a proclamation: "The kingdom of God is among you. Repent, and believe the good news." If to repent is to turn around, to turn towards God and start walking with God instead of on my own away from God, then confession is a starting point on the road to the kingdom. Confession is the starting point on the road to the kingdom. Try to envision it with me—imagine yourself walking towards something you want, even though you have a nagging sense that the something you want might no