Tommy Mann

In late December of 1972, President Richard Nixon gave the green light for Operation Linebacker II, which became known as the Christmas Bombings in Vietnam. Over the course of nearly two weeks the United States pulverized Hanoi with an aerial assault at a time when most people were expecting the North was ready to surrender anyway.     War-weary Americans were horrified by the images from Linebacker, especially with the carnage coming over Christmas, a Christian holiday associated with peace on earth and goodwill toward man.    It was no secret in those days that Billy Graham was a close friend of the President (even if, as it turned out, Graham was completely fooled by Nixon). The evangelist was often a mouthpiece for the White House, helping to sell the Nixon agenda to his massive Christian following. So when news of the bombing broke out, people called on Graham to intervene and convince Nixon to call off the offensive.       One pastor in particular, Ernest Campbell of New York, pr

If you are like me, you are wired to be on the go. I often say that we only get one life, so I want to make mine count. I constantly feel pressure to do as much as I can with this one life I get to live. James told us life is a vapor (4:14), so I know it goes by quickly. I don’t want to be on my deathbed wishing I had accomplished more.    At the same time, being always on the go is not healthy. There have been times where I have been running full speed ahead, and run right into a brick wall (figuratively, of course). We need to learn the art of resting and rejuvenating. The Bible calls this idea Sabbath.     In his wonderfully encouraging book  Replenish,  Lance Witt wrote, “Following Jesus cannot be done at a sprint. You can't live life at warp speed without warping your soul.” Captain Kirk used to tell Mr. Sulu to put the  Enterprise  in warp speed, and I have a tendency to put my own life at warp factor ten. But that is not a sustainable pace.    The Apostle Paul once lamented

I have always been fascinated by the burning bush in Exodus 3. If you know the story, Moses grew up in the royal family, but he had to run for his life when he became a fugitive. After hiding out in the desert as a shepherd, God called Moses at the burning bush.    Verse two says, “And the angel of the LORD appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush. He looked, and behold, the bush was burning, yet it was not consumed.” This odd sight caught Moses’ attention, and from there the Lord spoke to him, telling him he was chosen to return to Egypt, go before Pharaoh, and demand the release of the Hebrew slaves.    Understandably, Moses was not thrilled at his assignment. He made several attempts at excuses, but God countered each one. Moses balked, but God assured him that he would not go alone. In the twelfth verse God said, “But I will be with you.”   And He was. God led Moses, and his brother Aaron, before the most powerful man in the world. Through the Ten Plagues, Mose

One of Shakespeare’s more notable antagonists is Lady Macbeth, the Queen of Scotland who is the brains behind her husband’s rule. She acquires power for herself by prodding Macbeth to become a tyrant. As the drama unfolds, she becomes overwhelmed with remorse for her crimes. She begins to lose her mind because of her guilt, and she constantly imagines the blood of her victims on her hands. In the end, she takes her own life offstage.    But before her part in the play is over, Lady Macbeth, desperately trying to wash the imagined blood from her hands, declares in exasperation, “All the perfumes of Arabia cannot sweeten this little hand!”   Lady Macbeth is no different than any sinner trying to remove their sin. We can scrub and scrub, but the sin does not wash away. So we add something—we try good works, church attendance, giving to charity, volunteering—but we still see the blood of our victims on our hands. We cannot wash away our guilt, even with all the good works on the planet, or