A Sheep In the Dark

~ seeingeternity

darksheep

Sometimes trouble hits out of nowhere–uncalled for, undeserved–plunging our world into darkness.

Cancer. Stroke. Mental illness. Injury. Divorce.  Financial loss. Death.

Our illusion of safety shatters. Chaos, not a loving God, seems to be in charge. It feels like everything is spinning out of control and that God has either left town or decided he hates you. 

How do we respond in these dark moments? Many people have taken comfort in the soothing imagery of the 23rd Psalm (“The Lord is my Shepherd”), but in the midst of severe afflictions, the ominous phrase about “the valley of the shadow of death” can feel far more real than the peaceful pastures.

During a difficult time several years ago, I was praying one morning when I felt the Holy Spirit distinctly urge me to read Psalm 23 “in the dark”: imagining it all taking place in darkness instead of daylight. I was a bit bemused at the idea, but decided to give it a try.

And so I began:

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures …

Stop. Lights out.

In an instant, I go from being a sheep contentedly drowsing in the soft, deep grass of a sunny pasture, my Shepherd lingering nearby, to being swallowed by darkness, only able to see a few feet in any direction. The grass fades from green to sickly grey. Predators could be creeping up on me and I’d never see them. Worst of all, my  Shepherd has become lost amidst all the strange and menacing shadows of the night.

It’s the exact same pasture as before, but my inability to see changes everything.  Can I trust that my Shepherd is still near?

He leads me beside quiet waters.
He restores my soul;
He guides me in the paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake.

Walking in the dark, I have no way of knowing that I’m safe, near the calm water I need to slake my thirst. Instead, in my fear-charged anxiety, it’s easy to imagine that my next step might plunge me into deep rapids to drown, or off a cliff to my death. I’m being led by the Shepherd’s voice, but I still can’t see him, and I don’t know where he’s taking me. 

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

Ah, here it is; the big test. This is where my fears reach a crescendo. Death is on every side, the sounds and smells of wolves and blood assail me. I’m blind, helpless, with only one resource: faith in the unseen Shepherd who urges me to keep walking toward his voice.

I fear no evil, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

But in this most dreadful of times and places, there finally comes at least a hint of hope: the thud of a thick rod followed by the sharp yelp of a wolf being crippled, then the soft, unexpected touch of a staff along my side, gently pressing me back onto a smooth path. In the darkness, these small evidences of the Shepherd’s tender care are reassuring. I find my faith rising. Even in the dark.

That’s where the sheep/shepherd imagery ends in Psalm 23, but the idea of the godly sometimes having to walk trustingly in darkness is repeated in Isaiah:

Who among you fears the Lord
    and obeys the voice of his servant?
Let him who walks in darkness
    and has no light
trust in the name of the Lord
    and rely on his God. (Is 50:10)

If you are struggling through a time of darkness and anxiety, take heart. You are in good company among the saints, and you can trust the Shepherd who sees clearly in the dark. Fix your mind on what you know of this Shepherd rather than what you fear in your chaotic situation.

“…we are under pressure from every side, but not crushed; bewildered, but not driven to despair; persecuted but not abandoned; knocked down but not knocked out.” (The Apostle Paul, 2 Cor 4:8-9)

“Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.” (The Apostle Peter, 1 Peter 4:12-13)

“…even the darkness is not dark to you;
    the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.” (Psalm 139:12)

 

© 2017 Deborah Morris

Wolves Don’t Have Shepherds

~ seeingeternity
wolf

 

Jesus once told his disciples,  “I am sending you out like sheep among wolves”, then warned them:

“Be on your guard; you will be handed over to the local councils and be flogged in the synagogues. On my account you will be brought before governors and kings as witnesses to them and to the Gentiles. But when they arrest you, do not worry about what to say or how to say it. At that time you will be given what to say, for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.

“Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child; children will rebel against their parents and have them put to death. You will be hated by everyone because of me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved.” (Mt 10:1-22)

Can you imagine the disciples’ faces?  Peter looking at John, Thomas staring blankly at Jesus in disbelief. What??  While they were still digesting that unwelcome new assignment, Jesus added calmly, “Don’t be afraid.” (v.26) 

Right. Floggings, arrests, betrayal, hatred and death? I can see Peter blurting out, “But Lord…!”

Jesus, who never downplayed the risks of following him, told them to move fearlessly among the wolves who might kill them, healing and announcing that the kingdom of heaven had drawn near.  Rather than fearing the wolves, they were to bless them and demonstrate such a radiant love for their Shepherd that the wolves would start longing to BE sheep, in order to have such a Shepherd.

And this is the exceedingly good news of the gospel: Wolves, even those with bloody sheep wool still stuck in their teeth, can be reborn into the Sheepfold, their very natures and species changed for all eternity.

Saul of Tarsus was such a wolf. After he met Jesus he repented, believed, was filled with the Spirit and baptized in water. (Acts 9) In so doing he “put on Christ” (Gal 3:27) and became part of God’s flock, eventually becoming known as the apostle Paul.

There were others, though, who tried to join the flock without giving up their wolf identity.  Instead of putting on Christ they put on sheep’s clothing, but “inwardly they were ferocious wolves”. They didn’t want a Shepherd. In time, their autonomous and predatory natures became evident. The fact is, they were never part of God’s flock.

“Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will recognize them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? So, every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. A healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a diseased tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus you will recognize them by their fruits.

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’ (Mt 7:15-23)

“They went out from us, but they did not really belong to us. For if they had belonged to us, they would have remained with us; but their going showed that none of them belonged to us.” (1 John 2:19)

© 2017 Deborah Morris

Does God Actually Enjoy My Company?

~ seeingeternity

WeddingPlaqueYou know what I’d hate? Really, really hate?

I’d hate it if my husband just loved me because it was the right thing to do. I’d hate it if he was thoughtful and kind to me only because of his own high moral standards. I’d hate it if he brought me flowers… played his guitar and sang to me… surrounded me daily with beauty… out of duty, rather than because he found genuine pleasure and delight in my company.

My heart would wither and die under the assault of that kind of passionless and dutiful love. And yet, so many of us seem to picture God’s love for us in just those terms.

Does God just love us because he resolved, somewhere before time began, to do so? Or does he actually feel love for us, passionate love, wanting to be near us, to touch us, to live heart to heart with us?

This question hit my heart not long ago as I listened to John chapters 13 and 14 on my audio Bible. Somehow, hearing the conversation taking place between Jesus and his disciples as he told them he’d be leaving was different from reading it. For the first time, I felt the deep heartache in Jesus’ words as he told them he was going away and urged them repeatedly to love one another on his behalf. I realized with shock that it was exactly what I would say to my beloved children if I learned I would soon be separated from them:

“I have to go, so please, love each other for me. I won’t be here any longer to hug you, eat with you, talk with you face to face–so stand in for me. Just like I’ve loved you, love each other for me!”

“Little children, yet a little while I am with you. You will seek me, and just as I said to the Jews, so now I also say to you, ‘Where I am going you cannot come.’ A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”  (John 13:33-35)

Against all odds, Jesus genuinely liked being with his disciples, and parting from them hurt his heart. He tenderly called them “children”, “friends” and “brothers”, and so they were.

And so we are.

But it gets even better. Not only was Jesus clearly distressed about leaving his disciples, he was just as clearly looking forward to the day he’d be physically reunited with them!

 “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.”

Together again! Able once again to gather each other in a hug, to eat together, to talk face to face. That, for us, is a perfect description of heaven (in his presence is fullness of joy!), but how exciting is that idea for Jesus?

The Bible refers to Jesus as the Bridegroom, and to the Church (all believers in Christ) as his Bride. It would be a strange and depressing bridegroom who didn’t eagerly yearn for  the day he would be united in marriage to his beloved bride, would it not? Who didn’t count the days with great anticipation? And so, I believe, it is with our Lord and Bridegroom as he awaits the day when he gets to come for us.

When Terry and I married, a friend took one of our out-of-focus wedding pictures and made us a little plaque which has hung in our house for the past 43 years. It says:

“Does your heart leap and skip at the thought of Jesus coming, like the heart of a bride as her bridegroom approaches?”

It enthralls my heart to realize Jesus feels the exact same way about us. We are loved.

“You are altogether beautiful, my darling, And there is no blemish in you. Come with me from Lebanon, my bride….You have made my heart beat faster, my sister, my bride; you have made my heart beat faster with a single glance of your eyes, With a single strand of your necklace…” (Song of Songs 4)

© 2017 Deborah Morris

Where Are Our Annas?

~ seeingeternity

annatemple

I’ve been pondering something the past few days. Where are today’s Annas? (Luke 2:36-38) The “holy women as of old” who devote their lives day and night to prayer and ministering to the Lord and his people?

I keep thinking of all the nursing homes filled mostly with elderly women who, willingly or not, devote their lives to watching TV or, if they’re able, playing games. Many of them are in Christ and have lived long lives rich in love and good works.

Have they grown discouraged due to heartache and physical afflictions? Have they forgotten how powerful their prayers are? Have they lost sight of their ageless beauty and radiance in the Spirit?

If the army of Annas cloistered in nursing homes would awaken to a call to prayer, they might soon find it difficult to find time to pray as they wish because those with hungry hearts would be drawn to them like a magnet. They could turn their cities upside down.

I’m praying for Annas. We need them.

© 2017 Deborah Morris

Olympians in Training

~ seeingeternity
olympic crown

 “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.”  (1 Cor 9:24-25)

A few days ago I was reading the familiar story in Luke 4 (1) about Jesus being led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil, and as usual, I found the whole thing disturbing. Phrases like “lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil” (2) and “led like a lamb to the slaughter” (3) jostled each other uneasily in my mind, seeming  contradictory.

Why would God lead Jesus into the wilderness where temptation had snares waiting for him? Why lead his beloved Son into a siege situation? And why does it feel sometimes like he does that to us?

Although the Bible assures us that God doesn’t tempt anyone (4), he did deliberately put Jesus in harm’s way in the wilderness.  Less than 3 years later Jesus would be led like a lamb to the slaughter. Were these “extra” trials in the meantime really necessary?

God thought so.

We don’t know–the Bible doesn’t tell us–all the temptations that assailed Jesus over his 40-day fast.  It didn’t begin or end with the innocent sounding suggestion to satisfy his hunger by creating bread, something Jesus would later do on two separate occasions to feed thousands of other people. (5) In itself, the act of turning stones into bread wasn’t even a sin! But Jesus only did what he saw his Father doing. (6)

He had to be thin and extremely weak by the end of his fast, slow in body and mind. It was in this humbled state that he was then led by the devil up to a high place to be tempted with the offer of “all [earthly] authority and splendor”. The thought had to be as enticing in that moment as warm bread would be to his shrunken stomach.

Again, the Father specifically permitted this temptation. Again, Jesus resisted.

Finally (in Luke’s narrative) the devil led him to Jerusalem and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. Unaccountably, the Father allowed the devil to lead and direct Jesus in all these ways. And here’s where something important finally dawned on me.

Jesus, physically weak and wobbly, was standing high on the temple wall where a strong gust of wind could probably blow him off. His Father allowed the devil to put him in this dangerous position in his weakest state, not his strongest. He didn’t prepare Jesus for the onslaught of temptation by pampering him, getting him well-rested and nurtured, making him feel alert and ready. He did the exact opposite. He deconstructed all natural/earthly comforts and stays, leaving Jesus hanging out there in weakness.

Which was exactly what was needed. Like Paul, he could boast in his weakness because God’s power was perfected in his weakness. (7) And he was trained–exercised and strengthened–through this suffering to prepare him to endure the cross.

“Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered and, once made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.” (Heb 5:8-9)

If we misread the trials God permits to come into our lives and mistake them for punishment or rejection, we largely waste the value of the training.  We are Olympians, building our spiritual “muscle memory” so we can respond naturally and gracefully in faith to whatever befalls us.

“Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.” (James 1:12).

© 2016 Deborah Morris

  1. Luke 4:1-14
  2. Matthew 6:13
  3. Isaiah 53:7
  4. James 1:13-14
  5. Matthew 16:8-10
  6. John 5:19-20
  7. 2 Corinthians 12:9

“Lord, Don’t You Care?”

~ seeingeternity

caananite

Something struck me the other day as I read the familiar story of Martha and Mary. It’s one of those stories I tend to scan past because, well, I’ve read it a million times! This time, though, I suddenly felt like I might be missing something important.

I stopped, backed up, and read the passage again, silently sending up what I think of as “question-mark prayers” (?…?…?) asking for insight. What was I missing?

As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him.  She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:38-42)

This time I saw it. Martha’s accusatory question of Jesus (“Lord, don’t you care…?“) echoed what Jesus’ disciples had said to him in a different setting:

That day when evening came, [Jesus] said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.” Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?”

He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” (Mark 4:35-40)

In both cases Jesus’ response to being asked, “Don’t you care?” was a bit unexpected. Instead of reassuring Martha and the disciples of his love and concern for them, he rebuked them!  His response in the storm sounds almost astonished: “Why are you so afraid?”  It was inconceivable to him that he, who was Love, could be seen as somehow uncaring. 

He would soon stand silent, seemingly indifferent as Pilate, the chief priests and elders accused him of subversion and other capital crimes… but being charged with “not caring”? It stung his heart.

There’s another Bible story that stands in sharp contrast to the two stories above. It’s a less familiar and far less comfortable story, but it holds an important key for those of us who wrestle with how not to question God’s love during times of trial and suffering.

It’s the story of the Canaanite woman.

Leaving that place, Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon.  A Canaanite woman from that vicinity came to him, crying out, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me! My daughter is demon-possessed and suffering terribly.”

Jesus did not answer a word. So his disciples came to him and urged him, “Send her away, for she keeps crying out after us.”

He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.”

The woman came and knelt before him. “Lord, help me!” she said.

He replied, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”

“Yes it is, Lord,” she said. “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

Then Jesus said to her, “Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted.” And her daughter was healed at that moment.  (Mt 15:21-28)

Wow.  I wouldn’t have handled this well.

When Jesus ignored my repeated cries and kept walking, not even acknowledging that he heard me, I would have said, “Lord, don’t you care?”

When he finally responded but just to say, “Not my problem”, I would have said (louder), “Lord, don’t you care?”

When he compared me–as I’m on my knees begging–to a pet dog begging at the family table, I would have screamed in shock and outrage, “LORD, DON’T YOU CARE?”

I would have been offended, deeply offended.  But Jesus drew a line in the sand when he said, “Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.”  (Mt 11:6)  

Offense? Not an option.

I have found, over my 60 years, that my Beloved often works his greatest miracles in my life through offense.  It is always my choice to either get offended and withdraw (angry, hurt, rejected) or to show “great faith” like the Canaanite woman by fearlessly pursuing him, trusting that he cares even when it doesn’t look like it. Sometimes I get it right and sometimes I fail miserably, but this I know: it is his love that presses us beyond ourselves to put new levels of faith, holiness and peace within our grasp.  

 © 2016 Deborah Morris

Questions or Comments?

Make No Room for the Devil

~ seeingeternity

WelcomeMat

I grew up in the South where hospitality is in our blood. To quote Nero Wolfe, author Rex Stout’s fictional detective, I believe “a guest is a jewel resting on the cushion of hospitality.”  Terry and I tend to pamper our houseguests, serve meals to their tastes, and do our very best to make them feel comfortable and welcome in our home.

(Yes, we have a small but lovely guest room. No, this is not an open invitation!)

Hospitality is encouraged throughout the Bible. One glowing example is the Shunammite woman’s hospitality toward the prophet Elisha:

One day Elisha went on to Shunem, where a wealthy woman lived, who urged him to eat some food. So whenever he passed that way, he would turn in there to eat food. And she said to her husband, “Behold now, I know that this is a holy man of God who is continually passing our way. Let us make a small room on the roof with walls and put there for him a bed, a table, a chair, and a lamp, so that whenever he comes to us, he can go in there.” (2 Kings 4:8-10)

The way I read this—here’s the whole story if you’re not familiar with it–she first lured the old prophet in with food, then made him so comfortable that he settled in as a regular guest. Hosting the man of God brought a blessing on the woman’s household.

What happens, though, when the one “continually passing our way” looking for accommodation is not a holy man of God, but a predator?

“Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings.” (1 Pet 5:8-9)

With this passerby, our welcome mats should be taken in. Satan targets our weakest areas, and like all skilled predators he studies us to learn our scent, our habits, and the inclinations of our hearts. If we don’t recognize his strategies in our lives we can find ourselves outmaneuvered.

“…in order that Satan might not outwit us. For we are not unaware of his schemes.” (2 Cor 2:11)

“ For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” (Eph 6:12)

Sadly, Terry and I have found that we are rather easy to outwit! In talking about this a few weeks ago, Terry pointed out a pattern he’s noticed when believers are lured into a sin that ends up mastering them. It has happened to us, and it may have happened to you. The first step isn’t a big one. In fact it’s almost unnoticeable.

We stop resisting.

A stranger comes to visit and starts knocking at our door. We know we shouldn’t answer, so we try to ignore it. It doesn’t stop. We try earplugs for a while, then we try to drown it out with loud praise music. Still the knocking continues, ever more urgent. Again and again and again he knocks.

Have you ever leaned into a strong wind, or stood in a river against a steady current as you fished? If you do it for very long your muscles start to ache even though you’re not moving. Standing firm might look effortless but it’s exhausting.

Sometimes in our weariness we give in and answer the door.

At first the stranger startles us with his beauty. He’s the sweet answer to the prayers of our flesh! After the long weariness of resisting it’s a relief to relax and smile and sit with a friend. His name may be Lust or Arrogance or Greed, but he looks pleasing to the eye… in fact, like an angel of light. (2 Cor 11:14) After a nice visit, just long enough, he politely takes his leave.

We put him out of our mind. It wasn’t so bad. Just a short visit.

When he comes back a few days later, we don’t hesitate quite as long before answering the door. What’s the harm? Soon we become comfortable with his visits, which stretch longer and longer and become a familiar routine. We never go out looking for him, but when he comes we let him in.

Passive acceptance becomes comfortable and familiar. It’s another small step.

It can go on like this for months or even years, but eventually some invisible heart-line is crossed. Our neutral position shifts, and one day we find ourselves eagerly looking forward to the visits, listening for our friend’s approach. We want more. We crave more. We deserve more.

So like the Shunammite woman, we set aside a little room in our hearts and furnish it comfortably to make the visits more convenient. We set aside time and energy to daydream or indulge ourselves. Perhaps we open a secret email account, or change the password on our phone, or develop new habits and excuses.

Meanwhile we ignore all the warning signs and flashing lights:

“Leave no [such] room or foothold for the devil [give no opportunity to him]” (Eph 4:27 AMPC)

“But clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for [nor even think about gratifying] the flesh in regard to its improper desires.” (Rom 13:14 AMP)

Instead of resisting, we now find ourselves accommodating and hosting this unholy friend we’ve made. We feed him, and he grows stronger. He comes and goes as he pleases, but unlike Elisha is not content to confine himself to “his” room. He has his eyes set on taking the whole house.

It is true of Satan that if you give him an inch, he will take a mile. (John 10:10).

The fruit that started out tasting so sweet to our lips eventually turns bitter and carries the sting of slavery: “Don’t you know that when you offer yourselves to someone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one you obey—whether you are slaves to sin, which leads to death, or to obedience, which leads to righteousness?” (Rom 6:16)

A slave. No longer a willing host, nor even a strong man or woman “playing with fire”, but a cringing slave to sin. We hate what we’re doing but can’t stop.

How did this happen? The warning to not give room to the devil, even a tiny foothold, suddenly makes horrible sense.

Thank God there’s a way out. We have a Redeemer who hears our cry and comes to us!

“Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you.” (James 4:7-8)

“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.” (Rev 3:20)

This is a knock we can run to answer. Christ doesn’t leave us alone to “power” our way out of sin. Just as we yielded to temptation earlier, we can yield to the Spirit when the Lord of Life comes knocking.

When we yield to him he puts our house to rights.

“There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known. What you have said in the dark will be heard in the daylight, and what you have whispered in the ear in the inner rooms will be proclaimed from the roofs.” (Luke 12:2-3)

Terry and I have learned that we can take back territory the same way we lost it: stop resisting (God), yield to his persistent advances toward us, and then welcome him in as Master of the house, arranging everything to please him.

It’s a matter of choosing to whom you yield.

“Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness.” (Rom 6:13)

“But set Christ apart as Lord in your hearts and always be ready to give an answer to anyone who asks about the hope you possess.” (1 Pet 3:15 NET)

May each of us make our heart a welcoming home for the Holy One.

© 2016 Deborah Morris

Questions or Comments?

Related Article: Stand Firm

What is Worship?

~ seeingeternity

“Worship | to honor with extravagant love and extreme submission.” (Webster’s Dictionary, 1828)

It’s about our lives, not just our songs.

“Jesus said to her, ‘Believe me, woman, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You people worship what you do not know. We worship what we know, because salvation is from the Jews.  But a time is coming—and now is here—when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such people to be his worshipers.  God is spirit, and the people who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.'” (John 4:21-24)

Questions or Comments?