Asking for Wisdom, Modern Version

Once upon a time - not in ancient Jerusalem, but somewhere between NW Indiana traffic and Chicago unholy wind and wicked road tolls - there lived a modern Solomon by the name… Solomon, of course.

Surrounded by podcasts, push notifications, hot takes, AI-generated “facts,” and relatives who “did their research,” Solomon prayed:

“Lord, I don’t need more money, more followers, or more arguments on social media. What I really need… is wisdom.” Then the answer came in as a voice saying:

- Since this is your heart’s desire, and you have not asked for wealth, possessions, or honor,
nor for the downfall of your enemies,
nor even for a longer lifespan,
but for wisdom and discernment
in an age of fake news, deceptive information, artificial intelligence,
and very strong opinions with very little listening…

I am sending you somewhere special -

Go to the Seventh-day Adventist Church,
where Pastor Ovidiu is pastoring.

There you will receive not only information,
but biblical clarity.
Not only opinions,
but Scripture anchored in Jesus.
Not only head knowledge,
but a faith that shapes character.
Not only arguments,
but understanding, grace, and hope.
Not only answers,
but better questions, and a community that walks with you as you search.”

So, Solomon went and, wow, he found all the above exactly as they were told by that voice.

 That voice is you. Invite people to come.

No pre-requirements,
Just a curious mind, an open heart,
and a willingness to seek wisdom that begins with God.

Church

Where faith is thoughtful,

hope is real, and

Jesus is central.

Modern Letters - Letter from Lot’s Wife to Sarah

 

Modern Letters - Letter from Lot’s Wife to Sarah

Dear Aunt Sarah,

I hope you and Abraham are doing well in that… tent of yours. I know you call it “simple living.” We call it not having discovered civilization yet.

Honestly, Sarah, I don't know how you do it. No electricity, no shopping district, no restaurants, no entertainment, and apparently no cellular connection.

You really should visit Sodom. People here have choices. They don't all think alike, dress alike, or worship alike. Nobody tells you what your family should look like. People mind their own business. Well… mostly.

Tonight, however, things are a little complicated.

Lot has brought two strangers into the house. He says they're messengers and that we must protect them. Personally, I think he's being dramatic.

The men of the city are outside now, demanding to be brought to them. Apparently these two have been going around spreading rumors that Sodom is wicked and that the city is going to be destroyed. Religion fundamentalists.

Lot is actually trying to reason with the crowd, explaining that these men are his guests and that we shouldn't hurt them. The people outside are furious, tired of being judged by outsiders who arrive for one night and think they understand an entire community.

Someone just shouted banging at our door that these so called “messengers” came here to lecture everybody about how to live. Honestly, Sarah, it sounds exactly like the kind of thing religious nuts do. Come to a city, criticize everyone, announce God's judgment, and then act surprised when nobody invites them back.

The irony is almost entertaining. Sodom has problems, certainly. Every city does. But we're working through them. We're becoming more open-minded. And frankly, I think Abraham could learn something from us.

You two have spent years living in tents, waiting for promises.

We prefer modern lifestyle.

You wait for a better world.

We prefer this very one.

Anyway, I have to go. Lot is still arguing with everyone, even with our sons-in-law - apparently our guests have made quite a mess of the evening. But don't worry about us. Sodom is doing just fine.

Your loving niece, Mrs. Lot

PS. Seriously, Sarah, come next summer. I found an amazing Sodom Airbnb with a rooftop terrace, and Temple of Free-Love view at a surprisingly reasonable weekly rate. You and Abraham would love it. 

Just book early. Sodom gets very busy this time of year.