Analysis

Although we may not like everyone, we want everyone to like and accept us. We raise our eyebrows suspiciously if someone treats us with indifference or, worse, with hostility. We feel misunderstood and rejected. And the feeling of rejection is as intense as physical pain.

"Borg creatures. A highly advanced race of predators. They have no conscience. No ethic. Chances are, it has already infected your community, your schools, your church—even your children. This real-life threat is called 'the new tolerance', a simple phrase that describes a complex modern doctrine" (Josh McDowell).

If we accept that there are realities beyond our direct perception, then faith in God becomes a hypothesis worthy of serious consideration, rather than an absurdity.

We live in a world increasingly dominated by mergers and corporate consolidation.

George R.R. Martin surely struck gold when he began writing A Song of Ice and Fire.

With God's help, little guys can do big things too...

Some moments in life fade quickly, like ephemeral portraits in the memory's archive. Others, though we have never witnessed them, haunt us and force us to reconsider our perception of life, time, and our shadow self.

There seems to be an obsession with the word "natural." We look for it everywhere and, if necessary, are willing to pay more for products deemed natural. If this were not the case, there would probably not be so much emphasis on advertisements and product labels that show the products' natural qualities.

Years of prosperity swallowed up in a few months of recession—that's how you could sum up the global economic crisis that began in 2007. At its core, the worst recession since the interwar period turned out to be a mirror into which none of us want to look.

It is said that time makes us wiser. How wise have we become after a global pandemic with millions of deaths, a war on our borders, economic problems, and many personal tragedies in which we are caught as if in the grip of a great storm?

Although they are constantly improving their preparedness for crises and disasters, modern societies find themselves powerless in the face of a growing threat: transnational crises.

As the crisis caused by the new coronavirus deepened and spread, it was to be expected that the phenomenon would be framed in apocalyptic terms. It is something that tends to occur in such contexts.

The book "Sometimes I Don't Feel Like Praying" is a hall of mirrors. It strips you of religious clichés and the trappings of spiritual practices that mask a dysfunctional Christianity. It reveals spiritual failures that are hard to admit. Above all, however, it is an extremely useful tool for Christians for whom the concept of grace remains largely unexplored.

My first Bible was given to me by Pastor Damian Zamfir in the winter of 1972. Pastor Zamfir, the man who led my first steps on the path to Christ, invited me to visit him in the parish house of the Adventist church on Rodnei Street in Targoviste.

The sermons. My mother’s stories. The little sand table and Sabbath School for children. Adults’ conversations about religion. All the information I absorbed in childhood helped me sketch an image of Jesus with one major flaw: it was rendered in far too many shades of grey.