My 18-year-old son mailed a letter to our church in February. It’s a quaint act from a bygone time, writing a letter. So much so, I had to show him where to place the return address.
My 18-year-old son mailed a letter to our church in February. It’s a quaint act from a bygone time, writing a letter. So much so, I had to show him where to place the return address.
Hegseth’s phrase points to the way our political rhetoric often borrows Christian language without attending to its history in Scripture — or to the message of Christian hope itself.
Last February, I had breakfast with my friend Don, who is in his 70s, a life-long Bristolian and a like-minded soul. Don said he had always wanted to start a movie club. So we began dreaming.
This February marks the 50th anniversary of the national commemoration of Black History Month, proclaimed by President Gerald Ford in 1976 as part of the bicentennial celebrations.
This is my message to fellow Christians, especially evangelicals: We know better. We know better than to applaud the current mistreatment of immigrants in America.
