God Does Not Stay Dead – The Doctrine of the Resurrection (Part 2)

the doctrine of resurrection, church, Easeter

I was nine years old with an insatiable appetite for the dangers of weapons. I had collected pocket knives and had filled an entire briefcase with my many flea-market spoils. My parents eventually bought me my very own BB gun, which turned out to be as much a source of entertainment for my father as it was for me. My father and I would shoot at milk cartons filled with water in our backyard and watch as our shots left the carton to bleed water from its many holes. But there is one incident with my BB gun that stands out more than any other. It was family camp week for Ramona First Baptist, the church my father was pastoring at the time. We brought my BB gun. During camp I pleaded with my father to take me out to shoot it. Finally, he agreed to take me out with several other kids at the church. I would stick the gun between my legs to pump it up as many times as I could. We shot it out into the distance at really nothing in particular. When my dad took the gun to shoot a few himself, all the kids gathered closely to watch

God Does Not Stay Dead – The Doctrine of Resurrection (Part 1)

church, resurrection, church doctrine, doctrine of resurrection

It was a hot summer day in Ramona, California, a dead-end, desert town in the San Diego region. The dry heat radiated off the unbearable asphalt in visible waves. I was 7 or 8, walking with my best friend Taylor, to his house from mine. His parents were gone but his dog was in the backyard and we were going to pay him a visit. When we pushed past the gate at the side of his house and made our way to the back, what confronted us was far and beyond what we could ever have expected…

Filled With Purpose: The Doctrine of Creation

doctrine of creation, church, church doctrine, Matt Conniry

My son, Rogan, is 3 months out from being born. And if it were the case that I did not believe in an omnibenevolent (all-good) creator of the universe, I think I would avidly avoid broaching the subject of how the universe began. I could, in different words no doubt, tell my child when he was old enough to hear it, that all of matter purposelessly materialized by unguided and largely unknown processes, where over millions of years of agonizing nothingness, through death and despair, protoplasmic, vertebrate hominids made an appearance and over millennia of Darwinian selection, he was finally born to an ultimately and objectively meaningless existence, where he will live only briefly and die as he was born—for nothing—without objective purpose or meaning. It is a conversation I am fortunate to avoid…