Paper airplanes and endless drawings of famous aircraft littered my childhood landscape.  Copious airplane books and VHS tapes of flight documentaries filled my shelves.  And every 25-cent balsa wood flyer had modifications; rudders, wing flaps, and swept wings.  Airplanes were the obsession of my childhood.

I could identify any and every Twentieth Century warplane. And I knew all the Air Force (and Army Air Corps) insignias.  My future plans always included flight.  So, when the time came to consider college options, I had a clear plan.  I intended to go to the United States Air Force Academy in Colorado to begin my journey as a military aviator.

My academics were excellent.  My test scores exemplary.  I was even able to secure the requisite Congressional recommendation from our local congressman, Elliot Levitas.  Only one hurdle remained.  I had to pass the required battery of fitness and aptitude tests.  And so, on a sunny fall Saturday in 1983, I along with other hopefuls went to Dobbins Air Force Base to be put through our paces.  But it was there that all my plans came to a sudden and calamitous end.

At a little diorama with various planes and backgrounds, connected to strings and levers, something completely unanticipated was revealed.  My depth perception and visual acuity did not meet the tight standards required to qualify for flight training.   And in a moment my childhood dream vanished into thin air.

My uncorrected inability to perceive contrast in depth and distance or judge contours made me unfit.  It was not enough just to see what was on the surface.  Supersonic flight demanded more.  But so does following Jesus.   Cursory and casual study of the Scriptures and faith in our faith or in mere intellectual assent to certain religious ideas are not enough.  The saving faith God grants gives and grows a spiritual depth perception that enables us to follow Jesus and mature as disciples.

The importance of spiritual depth perception for discipleship is displayed vividly in the healing of Blind Bartimaeus in Mark 10:46-52.  This is the last healing miracle recorded in Mark.  A miracle that functions as the closing bracket to Jesus intensive teaching about the nature of his redemptive work and of the call to discipleship, teaching that began with the healing of the blind man of Bethsaida in Mark 8:22-26.

Between giving sight to these two men, we see the disciples struggle with what it means to follow Jesus and what it will cost.  We see them follow every pronouncement of his suffering with an argument about their own greatness and privilege.  And Mark, contrasts blind men who are given sight with spiritually sighted men who struggle with spiritual blindness.

As Jesus is leading the pilgrim throng to Jerusalem for the true Passover, we see a brief sketch of the healing of Bartimaeus on the outskirts of Jericho.  He is the only person healed in Mark’s gospel whose name is recorded.  And in receiving his sight, Bartimaeus exhibits a remarkable spiritual depth perception that illustrates for us what it looks like to grow and mature as followers of Jesus.

Join us as we examine Mark 10:46-52 and consider the story of Bartimaeus and some hallmarks of growing discipleship.  We meet Sundays at 10:30 am on the square in Pottsville, Arkansas right next to historic Potts’ Inn for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join our livestream on YouTube. 

“Double the Bubble!”  That is my dad-mantra when the weather is inclement or traffic is heavy.  No matter the age or driving record of my adult-children, I’m sure they need my ever-vigilant input on their driving skills.  One beating drum of warning is: “drive in the bubble.”  Maintain enough space from all other vehicles to have room to escape any unfolding traffic catastrophe.  And when road conditions or traffic are worse, “double the bubble.”

Following too closely is a leading cause of highway accidents, especially in our age of ‘distracted driving.’   But how close is “too close?”   The Arkansas Code requires that,

The driver of a motor vehicle shall not follow another vehicle more closely than is reasonable and prudent, having regard for the speed of vehicles and the traffic upon and the condition of the highway.

And if you are towing something on a highway, you may not follow any closer than 200’.  At 75 MPH, 200’ is only 1.8 seconds, giving you little time to react.  But more than that, when drivers follow too closely, road rage often erupts.  According to the Arkansas Department of Public Safety.

It is no surprise to most that 80 percent of drivers in America admit to experiencing significant anger, aggression or road rage at least once in the past year. Aggressive driving can be blamed for 66 percent of traffic fatalities, and road rage has been responsible for about 300 deaths since 2013, according to the National Highway and Transportation Administration (NHTSA)…  in 2024, 708 road rage cases have been reported to [Arkansas State Police], with more than 300 of those cases involving weapons. 

Among the stickers on Isabella’s Subaru, is one that challenges tailgaters, “Do you follow Jesus this closely?”  As a driver, following too closely is perilous but as a disciple not following too closely is deadly. 

Mark 10:32-45 records the final of Jesus’ three predictions of his passion.  Each becomes progressively more graphic and this final one echoes the language of Isaiah 53 and Psalm 22.  Yet ironically after each one, an argument breaks about among the disciples about their greatness and their kingdom privileges. 

This third and final prediction occurs as Jesus and the disciples are making the grueling trek up the 3,500 foot ascent to Jerusalem from Jericho.  The disciples, along with other pilgrims, are making the Passover ascent.  Jesus leads the group. The disciples follow in amazement but also fear.  As they travel Jesus reminds them of the dangers ahead and of His suffering, rejection, death and glory.  But they are deaf to anything but their own glory and privilege.

At some place along the way, James and John come to Jesus with an outrageous request.  The Gospel of Matthew records that it was their mother who brought the request to Jesus on behalf of these Sons of Thunder.  “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” Their tone deafness to what it means to follow Jesus is so scandalous that we are prone to join Jesus’ censure, “are you yet so dull?”

But what about you?  Are you following Jesus closely enough?  Are you very different from the Twelve “on the way?” Are you distracted by thoughts of your own greatness?  Has your faith given you the courage to follow closely when there is suffering, persecution, rejection?  Are you fixing your eye on Jesus or on the rights and privileges you feel you should receive as Christians?  Are you following so closely that you are becoming more like Jesus in your compassion, service, love, and self-sacrifice?  Could you be ticketed for following Jesus too closely?

Join us we examine Mark 10:32-45 and consider what it looks like to follow Jesus closely.  We meet Sundays at 10:30 am on the square in Pottsville, Arkansas right next to historic Potts’ Inn for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join our livestream on YouTube. 

Hand-grenades and Horseshoes!  Though grim, our expression, “’close’ only counts in hand-grenades and horseshoes” betrays how tightly coupled acceptance and performance tend to be.  At least in our way of thinking.  We are constantly pondering and asking whether we are “good enough?” 

Are we good enough to make the team?  Good enough to get the promotion?  Good enough to pass the test?  Good enough to get that scholarship?  Good enough to navigate life’s next challenge? Good enough to please our parents or a beloved?  Good enough to find or hold on to love?  Good enough to make a lasting mark on this world?  Good enough to enter the next?  Have we done enough?  Are we enough?  And what if the answer is ‘No?’

More than intellectual curiosity, the question “Am I  ‘good enough’” is a deep impact crater left in our souls by Adam’s broken covenant of works.  It is the anxiety at the root of most anxieties.  Even the outwardly successful and self-confident, still struggle with the adjective ‘enough.’  And often remain relentlessly driven for ‘more.’  As songwriter, Rich Mullins once sang, “Everybody I know says they need just one thing and what they really mean is that they need just one thing more.”

We often assume that because everyone is asking a question, it must be the right one.  But what if “am I good enough” is simply not the right question?  Will we let it go?  Will we abandon the idols that embody our ‘goodness angst?’  And start asking and answering the right question?

A Rich Young Ruler approached Jesus in Mark 10 with a burning question.  “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  Mark tells us he was rich.  Matthew notes he was young.  And Luke tells us he was a ‘ruler.’  He seems to be asking the right question.  Unlike with the questions of the Pharisees neither Jesus nor Mark question his sincerity.  Yet Jesus’ rightly perceives that underneath the good words is the ancient angst.  Matthew even notes that he asks “Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?”

The Jewish culture of Jesus’ day saw wealth and success and an indicator of God’s blessing and acceptance.  Prominence was equated with God’s favor.  And this man had it in spades.  Though young, he had amassed wealth and social standing.  Quite literally Luke’s word ruler, means a “first one.”  No doubt he was a remarkable young man.  Remarkable in society and in business. 

Yet it seems he was beginning to sense that temporal success is not the same as eternal security.  He has been a good man.  He has not killed anyone, stolen anything, defrauded his neighbors, or stolen anyone’s wife.   Since childhood, he has lived respectably.  But there was something unsettled in his soul.

What must ‘I’ do?  How good is ‘good enough’ to enter into the Kingdom of God?  What is the one thing more I must do to seal the deal with God, merit his blessing, secure my eternal future, and gain lasting acceptance?  Jesus debunks the young man’s misconceptions about goodness and being “good enough.”  And gives him the “one thing more” that roots out all thoughts of merit and exposes the idolatry of being good enough.  

But like all who trust in their own goodness, not God’s grace, the young man was “disheartened by [Jesus’] saying, [and] went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions.”   His sadness was great.  The word ‘disheartened’ comes from the picture of a dark, overcast, stormy sky.  And the word translated ‘sorrowful’ means a grief fueled by regret.  But even deeper than his sorrow was his love for the idols of his goodness, his wealth and status.  As hateful and demanding and consuming as those idols where, he loved and trusted them more than he could love or trust a gracious Jesus.

What about you?  Are you good enough?  Have you done enough?  Are you enough?  We hate the question, but we keep asking it.   But Jesus looks at us and loves us and calls us to stop obsessing with goodness and to start trusting God’s grace. 

Join us as we examine Mark 10:17-31 and consider how Jesus challenges us to stop asking if we are good enough and instead ask who is.  We meet Sundays at 10:30 am on the square in Pottsville, Arkansas right next to historic Potts’ Inn for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join our livestream on YouTube. 

Unflappable.  Like tin soldiers, dressed in scarlet tunics and trademark bearskin caps, they stand at attention for hours at a time, rigid, motionless, emotionless, guarding their sovereign and his palaces. Every tourist tries in vain to make them laugh, smile, move. 

But these men are more than ceremonial symbols and tourist photo ops.  They are elite soldiers, the cream of the crop, men highly trained and prepared for a most sacred duty.  They are unflappable, standing stock-still, motionless and actionless, but ever ready for action.

If you touch them, or the Sovereign’s horses, or get too close to a palace entrance, they come to life, shouting verbal commands.  And if you act in any way deemed threatening, they will present the bayonet!  Patient in peace, aggressive toward a threat.  That is what makes them effective guards.

Perhaps you know someone like that.  Patient to a fault.  Unflappable.  Almost impossible to anger.  Careful to guard their emotions, words, and actions.    That person in your life who is the epitome of grace under pressure.  Until that is, a line is crossed, a button pushed, a dominion sensor tripped, until someone has gone too far, mistaking self-control for weakness.   Then like a dormant volcano our friend’s quiet calm is broken by an immediate, intense response of fire and fury.

If we are not careful, we easily mistake Jesus’ self-control, patience, and grace under every pressure for weakness or passivity or an indication that he is not really like us.  But Jesus’ humanity was no mere docetic hologram.  Scripture teaches that he “became man, by taking to Himself a true body and a reasonable soul.”  He experienced sadness, hunger and thirst, joy, pain, disappointment, sorrow, and yes, anger.  But in all of these, though tempted, he never sinned.

The gospels do not conceal Jesus’ emotions, but it is Mark’s gospel that shows Jesus’ emotion most vividly.  In Mark 10, Jesus has turned toward Jerusalem.  Toward betrayal, abandonment, rejection, and death.  And resurrection!  Mark 10 is one of only two chapters, along with Mark 4, in this “action gospel” that give us the content of Jesus’ teaching.  Mark 11 begins the events of Passion Week, but Mark 10 unfolds Jesus’ focused teaching of the disciples “on the way” to Jerusalem.   And amid this teaching, the disciples cross a line.  Without any unrighteous anger, Jesus gets mad.

Mark 10:14 records the only instance in the Gospels of anger attributed to Jesus.  He wept at Lazarus’ tomb and over Jerusalem, “sighing” in deep sorrow over the people’s unbelief.  He drove the merchants and moneychangers from the Temple.  His soul was sorrowful unto death in the Garden of Gethsemane.  But only here is anger attributed to Jesus.   

The unflappable, ever-patient Jesus becomes “indignant” with his disciples.   Mark uses an ancient word that means “to arouse to anger that vents itself in expressed displeasure rather than brooding.”  An active anger that acts swiftly and decisively. 

But what is it that arouses Jesus’ anger?  Not the unbelief of his own people.  Nor the schemes of the scribes and teachers of the law.  Not the dullness of the disciples.  Nor personal betrayal or rejection.  No, Jesus’ anger is reserved for those who hinder the “least of these” from coming to him.   We don’t know why the disciples did what they did, especially in light of Jeus’ recent caution.

And he took a child and put him in the midst of them, and taking him in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me.”  — Mark 9:36-37

Perhaps the disciples assessed small children incapable of any credible faith or unworthy of Jesus’ time or attention.  Or maybe they viewed children as a distraction or hindrance to their own advancement.  And so, they hindered infants and small children, along with their parents, from seeking the blessing of Christ.  And when Jesus saw it, the disciples experienced something they had not yet seen – Jesus’ anger.

What makes Jesus mad?  Hindering others from coming to him.  Turning the kingdom into a meritocracy based on our ‘worthy’ works or decisions.  And refusal to embrace the “least of these my brothers [and sisters]” as members of God’s covenant family.  We have all provoked Jesus’ mercy and compassion.  But have we provoked Jesus’ anger?

Join us as we examine Mark 10:13-16 and consider what makes Jesus mad. We meet Sundays at 10:30 am on the square in Pottsville, Arkansas right next to historic Potts’ Inn for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join our livestream on YouTube. 

Medical misdiagnosis is a serious problem.  Recent studies have estimated that as many as 12 million adults a year seeking outpatient care are misdiagnosed.  Worse yet, diagnostic errors may result in as many as 10% of patient deaths — more deaths annually than breast cancer.  To be fair, diagnosis is incredibly complex.  And patients place extraordinarily high expectations for accuracy on their doctors. 

Add to that the perennial philosophical debate regarding whether diagnostic focus should be on “root cause” or “symptom management.”   Patients often bet their lives on the opinions of their doctor.  When those opinions are inaccurate the prescribed treatment will fail to address the real condition and may even make the condition more acute.  

Misdiagnosis is a serious problem. But it is nothing compared to the misdiagnosis of a deeper sickness that affects us all – a spiritually terminal condition the Bible calls sin.  This condition is congenital and inherited.  It is always fatal.  Every one of us has it.  Yet it is often misdiagnosed.  Or its symptoms merely palliated with legalistic or hedonistic opiates. 

Doctors of skepticism dismiss that any sickness exists. While doctors of philosophy are more concerned with classification than cure.   Doctors of psychology declare this sickness to be a non-fatal dysfunction, easily resolved with the right therapeutic tweak.   Doctors of religion prescribe a course of works, coupled with a regimen of rituals and outward piety.  But with all these prescriptions, the cirrhosis of the heart and soul continues unabated.

The prophet Jeremiah expressed this most poignantly.  “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?” (Jeremiah 17:9) The ancient word heart used in this verse is an inclusive idea, encompassing the heart, soul, mind, knowledge, thinking, reflection, memory, inclination, resolution, will, conscience, the seat of appetites, emotions and passions and convictions and courage.   All these, Jeremiah says, are treacherous, rebellious and incurably sick.  Yet, we cannot see it. 

 And one pundit acknowledged.

“The depravity of man is at once the most empirically verifiable reality but at the same time the most intellectually resisted fact.” ― Malcolm Muggeridge

The prophet Ezekiel rightly noted that a transplant was the only remedy.

And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules. – Ezekiel 36:26-27

A rock-hardened heart is always fatal.  Only a transplant will help.  But the religious leaders of Jesus day tried to manage their sin by building a containment fence around it based on expansive, ‘keepable,’ interpretations of God’s law.  A strategy of symptom management that Paul, the “Pharisee of the Pharisees,” sharply condemned.

For all who rely on works of the law are under a curse; for it is written, “Cursed be everyone who does not abide by all things written in the Book of the Law, and do them.” Now it is evident that no one is justified before God by the law, for “The righteous shall live by faith.” – Galatians 3:10-11

The Pharisees cherished both their sin and the good opinions of men.  They were concerned only with superficial conformity to a version of God’s law eisegeted by their self-serving desires.  They sought eternal life in legalism and misdiagnosed their condition thus misjudged the remedy.   In Mark 10 they came to Jesus and with a difficult legal question about divorce and remarriage.  Not because they wanted his answer, but because they wanted him speechless. 

As is often the case, they sought to lay a trap.  But as always, he easily slipped their Gordian knot and revealed the real issue at stake.  Bringing out God’s plan for marriage, he noted that divorce is always a result of the “hard-heartedness” of a husband or a wife or both.   And here Jesus used a word found only once in Mark’s Gospel, “sclerocardia,” hard-heartedness.  God’s laws regarding divorce and remarriage were only gracious concessions to the fatal diagnosis of sclerocardia.  

And in a passage that is still much debated among Christians, we are warned to ask the right question about marriage and divorce, assess the right problem in our relationships, and see the gracious remedy for marital brokenness.

Join us as we examine Mark 10:1-12 and consider what is really at issue when our deepest, most intimate relationships seem broken beyond repair.  We meet Sundays at 10:30 am on the square in Pottsville, Arkansas right next to historic Potts’ Inn for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join our livestream on YouTube.