A few weeks back, I was invited by some friends to teach them about the Bible. That in itself is pretty exciting. But this really got my heart going, because these friends are a family who came to America some three years ago as refugees from Burma. They belong to the Karen people, who have been the targets of severe persecution by the Burmese government. Many are professing Christians, but have never been taught anything about the Bible or Christianity. Their Christianity often consists in a firm conviction that Jesus is the savior, and Christianity is true, and little else.

I was reading recently - which for me is like saying I was breathing recently: stating the obvious - and came across the account of Paul's "Damascus Road experience" recorded in Acts 9. It's interesting reading, for sure, and marks the beginning of one of the most historically significant lives ever.

But Paul is well known, the subject of myriad books and sermons. My attention didn't fall on Paul, but on Ananias. Mr. Nobody. The guy who came from nowhere and apparently returned there. While he was in the spotlight, Ananias, a Jewish follower of Jesus in Damascus, was told by God to go to Paul and deliver a thirty-second message. No big deal. Sort of like Jesus to Peter: "Hey Pete, can I borrow your boat for a few minutes?"

Except...

Have you ever been in one of those conversations about the Bible? You know, the kind where someone claims that the Bible is "without error"? I used to get into those, but have for some years found better things to do. Perhaps you're one of those "someones."

But it's not a bad question. Is the Bible inerrant? Is it trustworthy? Does it have mistakes?

Did you ever read a portion of the Bible, maybe even something you have read many times before, and been stopped in your tracks by it? That happened to me this morning.

While waiting for my breakfast partner to arrive for our customary Sunday morning meeting, I was reading in my Spanish Bible, which makes me think a little differently. I was in John 20, a place I chose because, well, my Bible fell open there.

You might recall the passage. Jesus has risen from the dead, his followers are huddling together in fear behind locked doors, and Jesus just pops in among them. Apparently, he came through the wall or something. But that's for another conversation.

While reading through my Bible, I see places - many places - where God speaks to people: Adam, Moses, Abraham, Samuel, David, Paul and many more. In some cases, he was downright chatty, and there were some fascinating conversations between men and God.

And as I read, I think, "What's so special about these guys, that God talked to them? Were they better than I am?" I just can't see a fundamental difference between us. What sets them apart was that God in most cases called them to some exceptional task for him. They were not in some way intrinsically superior.

I can't count the times in my life I have cried out to God for forgiveness. A depressingly high number. I have lived with an awareness of the depth of my propensity toward sin, and I have sought to be set free from it.

Yet, I have never felt a sense of complete release. It's like God was saying to me, "Okay, I'll forgive you this time, but...." Perhaps you know what I'm talking about. I think it's because that's my tendency toward myself: Conditional forgiveness.

There used to be a saying, in some of the more "folksy" parts of the church, that was used as a common greeting: "You got the victory, Brother?" It was a sort of baptized version of, "How's it going?"

A pastor in one of these churches decided the question assumed too much, and modified it: "You got the victory, Brother, or are things just going your way?"

A different matter entirely.

Do you know the song, "Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries"? Well, it's not true. In fact, it's a flat-out lie.

I suspect many of you would look at life and the world around you and agree. For most of the people I know and see in my world, life is difficult, and it involves more pain than we want to think about. It's a long ways from just sitting around enjoying good, sweet fruit.

In hard times, especially the ones that seem to have no end, I sometimes wonder what part God plays in this mess. Is he even in it? Can these things really come from a loving, sovereign God, a part of his will?

Have you ever been puzzled by a scripture verse, wondering what it means, and if God is really true to his word? I mean, there seem to be cases where the Bible makes a promise or a statement of cause and effect, but it doesn't seem to work very well in life.

I have made a career of wondering and asking God what's up with this. One of my favorite hang-ups used to be from Psalm 37:4: "Delight yourself in the Lord; and he will give you the desires of your heart." You, too?

Anyone who knows me would laugh if someone asked if I place a high value on education. Of course, they would say. Larry breathes education, they would say. And while that's a little over the top, it's not far off. I love learning and I love teaching, and I believe both have great value.

I have graduated from college, then graduate school, and finally, seminary. I was once asked, in this process, what benefit I expected to receive from seminary, and what difference my time there would make in my life.