“Keep your low view of God to youself.”

This in-your-face quote (my paraphrase) comes from Heinz Schrader, pastor of Capital City Church International here in Pretoria.

Right now we have a few people who are in conversation with us about our view of suffering and God’s sovereignty.  They totally disagree with what we teach.  I want to tell you, that when someone has problems with the way a family is doing things, they are supposed to go to the head of the household.  So let me try to say this nicely: if you have a problem with what we believe and teach about suffering in this church, then come talk to me.  And you can talk to any one of our elders.  But you had better not ridicule one of these sheep down here who are in the midst of suffering, hardship, pain, and loss by telling them they’ve sinned or they need to read their Bible more.

Listen to me: if you don’t believe that God is sovereign in suffering, if you believe that all suffering comes from personal sin and lack of holiness, if you believe that man dictates the circumstances of life and not God, then you do not have a theology — you have an anthropology.  You exalt man higher than God.  So please, do us a favor and keep your low view of God to yourself.


Is Lack of Education Really Our Biggest Problem?

If lack of education was the primary reason for the world’s brokenness (such as poverty, crime, hunger, disease, war, heartache, etc.), then universities and colleges would be the most moral and ethical places in the universe.   In case you haven’t noticed, they aren’t.

There must be a more fundamental reason for problems in our world.


You Know, I’m Not That Much Different Than a Three Year-Old

The water on my kitchen faucet gets hot.  I mean, scalding hot.  You’d think after living here for four and a half months, I’d figure out that if the handle is too far to the left, it will give my hand a second-degree burn.

Yet, I keep the handle over too far.  I contemplate.  I can hear the loving voice of my younger mother saying, “Honey, don’t touch.”  I reach into the sink, and put my hands under the water.  The pain increases.  I think about it, and all I can get out, as I pull my hands away quickly, is a faint whisper of, “Hot, hot.”