<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830</id><updated>2011-07-14T17:35:23.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Would Jesus Do Next?</title><subtitle type='html'>Everyone who had heard of His name had to wonder ... What was He trying to accomplish? What would it take to achieve it? How far would He go?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Keith Brenton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08370891993969932472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yG-UTMo41C0/SqgqjlorPBI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1_FUK65Lzek/S220/KeithBrenton2009.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-2729487427643188333</id><published>2007-04-05T17:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T17:52:18.874-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus' Day Off</title><summary type='text'>posted by WKB; written by John Alan TurnerIt had been a busy week, and it was just Wednesday. Things had started off with a bang and a parade, Jesus looking more like a comic rendition of a conquering king — riding into town on the back of a donkey with hundreds (perhaps thousands) of peasants throwing down their coats before him and waving palm branches. It looked like the Messiah was coming to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/2729487427643188333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=2729487427643188333' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/2729487427643188333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/2729487427643188333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2007/04/jesus-day-off.html' title='Jesus&apos; Day Off'/><author><name>Keith Brenton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08370891993969932472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yG-UTMo41C0/SqgqjlorPBI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1_FUK65Lzek/S220/KeithBrenton2009.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-112165247961765726</id><published>2005-07-17T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-17T19:11:56.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Temple: A Great Place for Murder</title><summary type='text'>They had a suspect. They dragged her into the temple courts where Jesus was teaching. She was accused; caught in the act of adultery; condemned by the law. They asked this young Rabbi's approval. He baffled them. They slunk away, all but her. After a few words with Jesus, she left too.But He went right on teaching, and baffling - right there close to the place where the cash offerings were thrown</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/112165247961765726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=112165247961765726' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/112165247961765726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/112165247961765726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/07/temple-great-place-for-murder.html' title='The Temple: A Great Place for Murder'/><author><name>Keith Brenton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08370891993969932472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yG-UTMo41C0/SqgqjlorPBI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1_FUK65Lzek/S220/KeithBrenton2009.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111940534596126702</id><published>2005-06-21T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-21T18:55:45.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus Gets Weird Sometimes</title><summary type='text'>Okay, I loved the first stories Jesus told today: the ones about the lost sheep and the lost coin and the lost boy who used to feed pigs but couldn't bring himself to eat pig slop, so he went home to his dad ... oh. You've heard that one, too? That's a great story. And he really put the slam on the Pharisees and law-teachers. Because they love money and they love being right all the time, and </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111940534596126702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111940534596126702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111940534596126702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111940534596126702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/06/jesus-gets-weird-sometimes.html' title='Jesus Gets Weird Sometimes'/><author><name>Keith Brenton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08370891993969932472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yG-UTMo41C0/SqgqjlorPBI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1_FUK65Lzek/S220/KeithBrenton2009.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111757166789619022</id><published>2005-05-31T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-31T13:53:58.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thunder, Angels and Oracles</title><summary type='text'>We went up to Jerusalem to worship for the Passover feast, my friends and I, and our journey went well until the last few miles. Just outside of Jerusalem, we stopped with everyone else to crowd the sides of the main street into town from the south. We heard the rumor about the One who passed us on a colt, greeted by palm branches and shouts of "Save! Save!"We heard He had made his dead friend </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111757166789619022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111757166789619022' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111757166789619022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111757166789619022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/05/thunder-angels-and-oracles.html' title='Thunder, Angels and Oracles'/><author><name>Keith Brenton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08370891993969932472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yG-UTMo41C0/SqgqjlorPBI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1_FUK65Lzek/S220/KeithBrenton2009.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111697183651980313</id><published>2005-05-24T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-24T14:57:16.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus The Model...Parent?</title><summary type='text'>Jesus was many things when he lived here on earth: sinless Son of God, atoning sacrifice, masterful teacher and storyteller, perfectly righteous model with no hint of self-righteousness.It is baffling to me why the Christian community has largely failed to apply the teachings and example of Jesus in the realm of parenting, claiming that since he was not a parent, he has nothing relevant to say </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111697183651980313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111697183651980313' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111697183651980313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111697183651980313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/05/jesus-modelparent.html' title='Jesus The Model...Parent?'/><author><name>john alan turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03065084395340701275</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111639133158842277</id><published>2005-05-17T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-17T22:04:22.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Even the Puppies</title><summary type='text'>Philip and Bartholomew walked quickly because they thought they were late. Their hosts sent with them a jug of wine and a large basket of figs. Philip, whose load was lighter, put distance between himself and his fellow disciple."Slow down," said Bartholomew. "Maybe we should put the wine in here with these figs I'm carrying and work together."Philip stopped and turned. Bartholomew's face was </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111639133158842277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111639133158842277' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111639133158842277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111639133158842277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/05/even-puppies.html' title='Even the Puppies'/><author><name>c s bunyan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13746766023049865275</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111577755196339190</id><published>2005-05-10T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T19:12:31.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus The Teacher</title><summary type='text'>In the last century, a debate that had been brewing in academic circles spilled over into more everyday discussions. People began discussing the possibility that Jesus of Nazareth may be nothing more than an incredible teacher. One side of the debate claimed that, while Jesus said many important and wise things, he was just a person. The other side of the debate said, "No, Jesus was more than </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111577755196339190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111577755196339190' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111577755196339190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111577755196339190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/05/jesus-teacher.html' title='Jesus The Teacher'/><author><name>john alan turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03065084395340701275</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111517756409485026</id><published>2005-05-03T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-03T20:32:44.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Before the Backfire</title><summary type='text'>"It really bothers me that they call him a teacher," said Jacob as he leaned forward on the edge of his seat, elbows on the thick wooden table and a half-gnawed cigar in his right hand. "They treat him like he's a god," he continued, stuffing the cigar back into his mouth, now leaning back into his chair, hands behind his head. It was near midnight in the back room of Jacob's house. The usual men</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111517756409485026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111517756409485026' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111517756409485026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111517756409485026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/05/before-backfire.html' title='Before the Backfire'/><author><name>Fajita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704189756009543355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111436881364901085</id><published>2005-04-24T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T09:50:57.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What The Hungry Were Fed Up With</title><summary type='text'>It was a time of sadness; of grieving. Jesus had just lost a cousin. His followers had just lost a friend. Israel had lost a prophet, and not just any prophet, but one who had come in the spirit and power of Elijah.Herod had executed John the Baptist, the outspoken herald of Christ and critic to Herod's marriage to his brother Philip's wife, Herodias. He had done so at the request of his wife's </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111436881364901085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111436881364901085' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111436881364901085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111436881364901085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/04/what-hungry-were-fed-up-with.html' title='What The Hungry Were Fed Up With'/><author><name>Keith Brenton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08370891993969932472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yG-UTMo41C0/SqgqjlorPBI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1_FUK65Lzek/S220/KeithBrenton2009.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111393981591932873</id><published>2005-04-19T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-19T12:43:35.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus Was Single</title><summary type='text'>I'm headed to Nashville this weekend to speak at a retreat for single adults. The main theme is Fear -- something I've been struggling with over at my own blog. But one of the sessions is going to be devoted to being afraid of singleness. First of all, I am aware that it may be strange for a married man to talk about this topic. I promise I will try to be as sensitive and gentle as I can be. I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111393981591932873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111393981591932873' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111393981591932873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111393981591932873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/04/jesus-was-single.html' title='Jesus Was Single'/><author><name>john alan turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03065084395340701275</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111386205624962654</id><published>2005-04-18T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T15:07:36.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People vs Policy</title><summary type='text'>As we talked about the adulterous woman in John 8 this weekend, we came to the conclusion that this was basically a love story.  The love a father has for his daughter.  I wonder how many of those men would have been willing to pick up a rock if it had been their daughter that was being drug out and exposed?   We know she did have one father there......and he was going to do everything within his</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111386205624962654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111386205624962654' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111386205624962654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111386205624962654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/04/people-vs-policy.html' title='People vs Policy'/><author><name>David U</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04087224962012899721</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://www.harding.edu/people/DavidUnderwood.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111369116179587569</id><published>2005-04-16T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-16T18:46:45.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What The Rich Man Lacked</title><summary type='text'>Mark says he was a man. Matthew says he was young. Luke adds that he was a ruler.They all agree that he was rich.Mark adds a few interesting details that the others omit, though, as they tell the story. Anxious to get into the story, Matthew and Luke omit the fact that he ran up to Jesus and fell on his knees before Him. As if something was urgent. As if only Jesus could answer him about how to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111369116179587569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111369116179587569' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111369116179587569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111369116179587569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/04/what-rich-man-lacked.html' title='What The Rich Man Lacked'/><author><name>Keith Brenton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08370891993969932472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yG-UTMo41C0/SqgqjlorPBI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1_FUK65Lzek/S220/KeithBrenton2009.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111284721863255743</id><published>2005-04-06T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T21:55:56.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Rich Ruler Luke 18:1818A certain ruler asked him, “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”19“Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good–except God alone. 20You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery, do not murder, do not steal, do not give false testimony, honor your father and mother.’"21“All these I have kept since I was a boy,” he said.22When Jesus </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111284721863255743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111284721863255743' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111284721863255743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111284721863255743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/04/rich-ruler-luke-1818-18a-certain-ruler.html' title=''/><author><name>Brandon Moore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11865778964025521595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/183/3856/640/DSC03303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111265615262771309</id><published>2005-04-04T16:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-05T11:30:48.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What The Unwanted Man Wanted</title><summary type='text'>We don't know which feast it was when Jesus went to Jerusalem to celebrate, and saw a crowd of disabled people huddled around the pool near the Sheep Gate.We can't be sure if the pool was named Bethesda, Bethzatha, Bethsaida or Beth Moore.We don't know if an angel really came down and stirred the waters to heal the first one in the pool; if this was the genuine explanation or a later manuscript </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111265615262771309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111265615262771309' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111265615262771309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111265615262771309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/04/what-unwanted-man-wanted.html' title='What The Unwanted Man Wanted'/><author><name>Keith Brenton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08370891993969932472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yG-UTMo41C0/SqgqjlorPBI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1_FUK65Lzek/S220/KeithBrenton2009.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111239038447531796</id><published>2005-04-01T12:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-01T13:19:44.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Did What?</title><summary type='text'>"You did what?""It's just as I said," the woman said firmly, "I walked right into Simon's house to...""Simon the Pharisee?" The women had so many questions that they would hardly let her tell the story."Simon Shmimon, who cares whose house it was? Jesus was in there. I had heard that he was coming to town and I was not going to miss a chance, maybe my last chance to see him.""What are you talking</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111239038447531796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111239038447531796' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111239038447531796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111239038447531796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/04/you-did-what_01.html' title='You Did What?'/><author><name>Fajita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704189756009543355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111222269524151955</id><published>2005-03-30T13:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-30T14:44:55.243-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Encounters with Jesus</title><summary type='text'>Have you ever taken the time to go thru the Gospels and see how lives were changed when people encountered Jesus?  RADICAL changes.  Not just yawning, ho-hum January resolutions for change.  Not just shallow words said to appease someone.  We are talking about REVOLUTIONARY changes.     Jesus does that to hearts that are open to Him.I guess my favorite encounter of Jesus is recorded in Luke 19.  </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111222269524151955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111222269524151955' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111222269524151955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111222269524151955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/03/encounters-with-jesus.html' title='Encounters with Jesus'/><author><name>David U</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04087224962012899721</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://www.harding.edu/people/DavidUnderwood.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111215363778531036</id><published>2005-03-29T19:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-29T19:33:57.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Spit</title><summary type='text'>So I'm walking just outside my village the other day, just minding my own business, and I see a small group of people gathered around a couple guys. Just the fact that there were even a few people outside the village was a bit odd, but they were all looking intently at the two guys in the middle.I recognized the one guy first. He's the blind guy. Every now and again I'd give him a coin. I figure </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111215363778531036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111215363778531036' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111215363778531036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111215363778531036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/03/holy-spit.html' title='Holy Spit'/><author><name>Fajita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704189756009543355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111214853192537709</id><published>2005-03-29T17:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-29T19:44:08.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Made It Official For The Official</title><summary type='text'>After spending an unplanned two-day stop in Samaria, Jesus left for Galilee. He was headed home, yet He didn't seem to be enjoying the anticipation of it. He pointed out to his tag-along followers that a prophet has no honor in his own country. Yet, when He arrived in Galilee, the Galileans welcomed him. They had seen everything He'd done in Jerusalem at the Passover Feast. More than likely, they</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111214853192537709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111214853192537709' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111214853192537709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111214853192537709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/03/what-made-it-official-for-official.html' title='What Made It Official For The Official'/><author><name>Keith Brenton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08370891993969932472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yG-UTMo41C0/SqgqjlorPBI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1_FUK65Lzek/S220/KeithBrenton2009.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111185452179669277</id><published>2005-03-26T08:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-28T14:42:12.300-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Made The Outcast Draw A Crowd</title><summary type='text'>It was not a routine stop, because it was not a prescribed route. This jog in Jesus' first missionary journey from Galilee to Jerusalem (for Passover) and back was necessitated by the fact that His ministry was baptizing more in Judea than John's was in the trans-Jordan area. (Okay, His followers were; He didn't baptize.) The Pharisees - who were certainly not happy that Jesus had single-handedly</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111185452179669277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111185452179669277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111185452179669277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111185452179669277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/03/what-made-outcast-draw-crowd.html' title='What Made The Outcast Draw A Crowd'/><author><name>Keith Brenton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08370891993969932472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yG-UTMo41C0/SqgqjlorPBI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1_FUK65Lzek/S220/KeithBrenton2009.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111185336481872236</id><published>2005-03-26T07:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-28T13:16:59.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Heaven Gives By Taking Away</title><summary type='text'>It has to be a disappointment to watch your ministry die. When you've given up a "normal" lifestyle; when you've been the one to whom people came in droves; when you've been privileged to immerse them as a testimony of their penitence and desire to be washed from sin. But it comes at an inopportune time. You've just moved the ministry from Bethany-on-the-Jordan to a better location at Aenon near </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111185336481872236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111185336481872236' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111185336481872236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111185336481872236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/03/what-heaven-gives-by-taking-away.html' title='What Heaven Gives By Taking Away'/><author><name>Keith Brenton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08370891993969932472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yG-UTMo41C0/SqgqjlorPBI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1_FUK65Lzek/S220/KeithBrenton2009.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111169078678015677</id><published>2005-03-25T20:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-27T11:38:46.750-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What The Teacher Was Taught In The Dark About Light</title><summary type='text'>It was a temptation to title this "Nick at Nite," with all due credit to Real Live Preacher.Because it is about Nicodemus, and he did come to Jesus by night.Why at night, we don't know. Maybe, as a high-ranking teacher-rabbi himself (on the ruling council in spite of being a Pharisee), he didn't want his peers seeing him come to young Jesus or confess what he felt:"Rabbi, we know you are a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111169078678015677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111169078678015677' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111169078678015677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111169078678015677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/03/what-teacher-was-taught-in-dark-about.html' title='What The Teacher Was Taught In The Dark About Light'/><author><name>Keith Brenton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08370891993969932472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yG-UTMo41C0/SqgqjlorPBI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1_FUK65Lzek/S220/KeithBrenton2009.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111161817932679836</id><published>2005-03-24T13:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-26T08:09:52.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Drove The Market Collapse Of A.D. 27</title><summary type='text'>The date is speculative, of course. Because it wasn't about a time, but a place.Location, location, location.It was just as vital a concept in the first century as it is today, and the folks who exchanged currencies and provided church supplies back then knew it well.They set up shop right there in the courts of Herod's temple, perfectly willing - for a fee - to take bad, foreign, Gentile </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111161817932679836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111161817932679836' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111161817932679836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111161817932679836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/03/what-drove-market-collapse-of-ad-27.html' title='What Drove The Market Collapse Of A.D. 27'/><author><name>Keith Brenton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08370891993969932472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yG-UTMo41C0/SqgqjlorPBI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1_FUK65Lzek/S220/KeithBrenton2009.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11647830.post-111159690410339688</id><published>2005-03-23T08:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T14:50:34.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What A Mother Wants Her Son To Drink</title><summary type='text'>At a party - a wedding party, no less - the traditional first century beverage was the blood of the grape, distilled and refined and served with generosity.Jesus, his mother Mary and friends were in attendance at one in Cana of Galilee (way up on the wrong side of Samaria and a good walk from home in Nazareth) when the wine ran out.Respectfully - as was the custom of the time, no doubt - she </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/feeds/111159690410339688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11647830&amp;postID=111159690410339688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111159690410339688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11647830/posts/default/111159690410339688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wwjdn.blogspot.com/2005/03/what-mother-wants-her-son-to-drink.html' title='What A Mother Wants Her Son To Drink'/><author><name>Keith Brenton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08370891993969932472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yG-UTMo41C0/SqgqjlorPBI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1_FUK65Lzek/S220/KeithBrenton2009.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
