Here we are once more at the cusp of the new year. Why do we mark its passing so sharply? Does it matter? From the surface of the Sun, if one could look to the heavens tonight and see Planet Earth fly by
The Hebrew Bible opens with a story about creation. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth . . .” A chapter later, we start all over again. “On the day the Lord God made the earth and the heavens . . . “
“Wishing you an old-fashioned Christmas”—jingles the message inside a yuletide card on my desk. The water-color painting printed on its face renders a scene in a room of very blue walls and very high ceiling. The tall be-appled Christmas tree
You don’t need to be a bible scholar to find out that the prophet Isaiah did not say that “a virgin shall conceive.” Ancient Hebrew has a word for “virgin,” but Isaiah used a different word, meaning “young woman.” And he spoke not of “a” young woman but “the young woman” . . .
Time and again, the Bible’s stories are set in the wilderness. Why? Is the desert incidental? Is it mere history that the pioneers of faith happened to live in the Middle East, which happens to be dry as dead bones? Or is the case more complex?