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Marc Alan Schelske

I Quit the Culture War

It’s election season, apparently. I’ve noticed the sprouting yard signs and the increasing emotional urgency in political conversations. The internet is abuzz with people making their case and stomping their virtual feet.

As a follower of Jesus this season makes me tired. Everyone seems to have expectations and obligations for me; commitments that I have never signed up for.

Why the Church Has To Stop Saying Sexual Sin Is the Most Important Thing

Somewhere back in time someone decided that sexual sin is the worst kind of sin. In many churches sexual sin is the line over which you may not cross.

Sex before marriage is the worst thing a Christian teenager can do. Sleeping around is the worst thing a Christian woman can do. Looking at pornography is the worst thing a Christian man can do. Adultery is the worst thing a Christian married person can do. And if a Christian leader, or pastor, has problems with any of these things, that’s the worst of all.

Words Every Father Needs to Say

Father. It’s a weighty word for me. Like stained glass, the image it brings to mind is a mosaic of different colored fragments. Some are beautiful. Some full of tension.

Strength. Sometimes gentle strength, sometimes raw and frightening. Provision. Authority. Protection. A disciplinary look or word. A few spankings. Many more cuddling hugs. And then a big gap, missing spaces, leaving a picture less than half formed.

Worship Styles? It’s Not about the Shoes.

For several years beside my front door, we had two small baskets of shoes. This was our compromise. We had a shoe rack where my wife and I put our shoes, but try as we might we could not get our children to use it. Lucas was nearly five. Emerson, six-going-on-twenty.

They've always taken off their shoes when they come in the house but then where the shoes go after that is anyone’s guess. So we instituted the baskets. Don’t worry about matching. Don’t worry about setting them side-by-side. Just chuck them in the basket. Doesn’t even matter which one…

You Are God’s Poem

My daughter, Emerson, was sitting in her car seat in the back row of the van as we drove home from dinner one evening. She was four at the time. Discipline was not her strong suit that day, and as evening came she got more and more out of control. She was angry with me because I had corrected her pretty sternly at dinner.

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