In the marketplace
As in water face reflects face, so the heart of man reflects the man. Proverbs 27:19 There was a woman in the Old City in Jerusalem, and she was beautiful. Perhaps 83 years old, and her head was covered in the traditional Muslim shawl. She sat on ancient, wet stone steps selling vegetables. It was cold and raining, and I sensed she knew that few of those from those foreign lands would smile, nod their head or look at her. They were too busy rushing to take a selfie at Golgotha or eager to buy that unusual gift from Jerusalem. She was an immigrant in her own land. One of the nameless, faceless Holy Land objects. But if those who walked by took time, they would notice that her face told a story of pain and joy, hope and loss, love and death. God's hand had painted a story of life on a weathered canvas made of flesh. I was struck by humanity's fragility and the spirit's resiliency. In my March letter, I asked if our Churches "look like Jesus?' During the followin...