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On New Year’s Day 2020, New South Wales and Victoria jumped north by 5.9 feet. No, you did not miss an earthquake. The change is being made to fix a 5.9 foot inaccuracy that has crept into the GPS coordinates, caused by Australia slowly drifting north. Australian GPS was last updated in 1994, and the entire country has moved nearly six feet since then.
Australia sits atop one of the fastest-moving tectonic plates in the world. It moves about 2.5 inches north-east every year. “That’s about the speed your hair or fingernails grow,” says NSW Surveyor General Narelle Underwood.
In the days of paper maps that tectonic drift did not pose a real problem. That meant Australia could get away with the slight inaccuracy that has crept in since the coordinates were last set in 1994. But paper maps have gone the way of the dinosaurs; we use GPS now. And GPS notices. That's because GPS satellites precisely locate you on the surface of the Earth. Effectively the coordinate you have from your GPS has already moved 5.9 feet.
Add in the inaccuracy of GPS itself – it is accurate to about 16 feet – and that explains why you can sometimes open Google Maps and discover yourself trapped inside a building or drowning in a lake.
The project is handy for the average person, but its real value is in the future. Driverless cars, for example, need precise GPS data to know which lane they are in, and driverless tractors need to be able to get right up to the fence line without plowing it down.
Possible Preaching Angle: Everything on earth changes, including the mighty continents. But for believers there are three crucial foundational things that will never change: God doesn't change, His Word doesn't change, and His promises do not change. These are settled forever in the heavens.
Source: Liam Mannix, “NSW and Victoria just jumped 1.8 metres north,” The Sydney Morning Herald (1-2-20)
Past generations of Americans viewed God as the basis of truth and morality. Not anymore. A new study shows that most Americans reject any absolute boundaries regarding their morality, with 58% of adults surveyed believing instead that moral truth is up to the individual to decide.
According to findings from pollster Dr. George Barna, belief in absolute moral truth rooted in God’s Word is rapidly eroding among all American adults. This is regardless if they are churched or unchurched, within every political segment, and within every age group. Even among those who do identify God as the source of truth, there is substantial rejection of any absolute standard of morality in American culture.
Perhaps most stunning, this latest research shows a rejection of God’s truth and absolute moral standards by American Christians, those seen as most likely to hold traditional standards of morality. Evangelicals, defined as believing the Bible to be the true, reliable Word of God, are just as likely to reject absolute moral truth (46%). And only a minority of born-again Christians—43%—still embrace absolute truth.
The study found that the pull of secularism is especially strong among younger Americans, with those under age 30 much less likely to select God as the basis of truth (31%), and more likely to say that moral standards are decided by the individual (60%).
As Jeff Meyers writes in his new book, Truth Changes Everything, “We live in a world where we cannot go a single day without hearing that truths are based on how we see things rather than on what exists to be seen. Truth is not ‘out there’ to be found; it is ‘in here’ to be narrated.”
You can read the full study from Arizona Christian University here.
A biblical worldview rests firmly on the idea that Truth can be known. It says that Truth isn't constructed by our experiences and feelings. Rather, a biblical worldview says that Truth exists. It is a person. It is Jesus (John 14:6).
Source: Adapted from Arizona Christian University, “American Worldview Inventory 2020 – At a Glance Release #5,” (5-19-20); Jeff Meyers, Truth Changes Everything, (Baker Books, 2021), pp. 9-10
A clip from a Pursuit of Wonder video illustrates how man's ideas of what is true often turns out to be completely false.
In Peru in the middle of the 1400s, there was what is believed to be the largest known child sacrifice in the world, with about 140 children and more than 200 animals killed. The reason: attempting to appease the gods in response to unusually bad weather.
In Europe in the 17th century, just a few hundred years ago, it was widely believed that the earth was the center of the universe and everything else revolved around it. When the now famous astronomer Galileo Galilei published a work that showed that the sun was the center of the universe, and the earth revolved around the sun, the Roman inquisition banned his work and found Galileo guilty of heresy.
In the late 19th century, little more than a hundred years ago, doctors used what are now Schedule 1 drugs to treat common cold symptoms in children. Also, around this time, doctors believed it was foolish to wash their hands before delivering babies or during other medical procedures. Only eighty years ago, it was believed that cigarettes posed no health dangers.
And the list goes on. This Earth is not merely a cemetery of people that once were, but also a cemetery of ideas and beliefs once held to be true but are no longer.
You can watch the video here (2 mins 15 sec - 3 min 57 sec).
Source: Pursuit Of Wonder, “Everything You Believe Is Based on What You've Been Told,” YouTube (7-12-22)
The US has long ranked high among the world’s nations in its level of religious belief. But the Pew Research Center examined just what 80 percent of Americans actually mean when they say they “believe in God.”
Here’s what its survey of more than 4,700 adults found:
56% of Americans believe in God “as described in the Bible.”
97% God is all-loving
94% God is all-knowing
86% God is all-powerful
God determines what happens in my life…
43% All of the time
28% Most of the time
16% Some of the time
6% Hardly ever
6% Never
Talking with God…
56% I talk to God and God does not talk back
39% I talk to God and God talks back
Source: Editor, “We Believe in God,” CT magazine (June, 2018), p. 15
Physicist Alan Lightman is a professor at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He is known for specializing in the intersection between science, philosophy, religion, and spirituality. He writes about a profound, transcendent experience in his life:
It was a moonless night, and quiet. The only sound I could hear was the soft churning of the engine of my boat. Far from the distracting lights of the mainland, the sky vibrated with stars. I turned off my running lights, and it got even darker. Then I turned off my engine. I lay down in the boat and looked up. A very dark night sky seen from the ocean is a mystical experience.
After a few minutes, my world had dissolved into that star-littered sky. The boat disappeared. My body disappeared. And I found myself falling into infinity. A feeling came over me I’d not experienced before. ... And the vast expanse of time — extending from the far distant past long before I was born and then into the far distant future long after I will die — seemed compressed to a dot. I felt connected not only to the stars but to all of nature, and to the entire cosmos. I felt a merging with something far larger than myself, a grand and eternal unity, a hint of something absolute.
Lightman is in awe of nature but is unsure where that should lead him:
It is almost as if Nature in her glory wants us to believe in a heaven, something divine and immaterial beyond nature itself. In other words, Nature tempts us to believe in the supernatural. But then again, Nature has also given us big brains, allowing us to build microscopes and telescopes and ultimately, for some of us, to conclude that it’s all just atoms and molecules. It’s a paradox.
God offers unbelievers opportunities to consider the meaning of life, eternity, and their place in it. Some, like this professor will taste and then turn away (Heb. 6:4-10), while others will recognize the hand of Almighty God and bow before him (Ps. 8, Ps. 19).
Source: Maria Popova, “Alan Lightman on the Longing for Absolutes in a Relative World and What Gives Lasting Meaning to Our Lives,” Brain Pickings (3-27-18)
Author Thomas Friedman writes of the rapid changes society has experienced:
If [a 1971] VW Beetle had undergone as many changes to its power and speed as has occurred to computer microchips, today that Beetle would be able to go about three hundred thousand miles per hour. It would get two million miles per gallon of gas, and it would cost four cents! Intel engineers also estimated that if automobile fuel efficiency improved at the same rate as [microchips], you could, roughly speaking, drive a car your whole life on one tank of gasoline.
In a world that's changing as rapidly and as unpredictably as our own, it's reassuring to know that God and His word remain the same from generation to generation.
Source: Thomas Friedman, Thank You for Being Late: An Optimist's Guide to Thriving in the Age of Accelerations (Picador, 2017), p. 38
In his book, Rick Mattson writes:
I’m not the one making the exclusive claim about salvation—Jesus is. He is the one who said, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). I’m simply trusting his authority to know these things. It’s like going to my excellent family physician, Dr. Lehman. If he tells me my cholesterol is too high and that I need to cut down on sweets and fatty foods, I believe him. He’s an expert on the matter. Sure, there are plenty of other voices I could listen to about my health, including celebrities, infomercials and tabloid articles. To the extent that these voices disagree with Dr. Lehman, they’re most likely wrong. My physician has made the “exclusive” claim that his patient, me, has a certain malady that requires a certain treatment. I’m just the amateur who believes him.
Editor's Note: This simple illustration can show that proclaiming the exclusive claims of Christ need not be arrogant. Preachers can easily adapt this illustration with details from their own lives. Here’s my adaptation of the illustration (with a twist of humor):
I went to a sleep specialist doctor because apparently, I snore a lot. I told everyone, including the sleep specialist doctor, “Fine, do your study, but I am NOT wearing one of those CPAP machines.” I was convinced the doctor was getting kickbacks from the CPAP machine company. So I spent the night with electrodes stuck on my head and the doctor gave me his diagnosis: you have sleep apnea and you need to wear a CPAP. Now I trusted his expertise even less. I called a doctor friend to investigate this quack with his kickback scam. My friend said, “Your doctor is the real deal. Wear the CPAP machine. You’ll have more time on earth to enjoy your grandchildren.” So, every night I put that silly mask on my face. Why? Because after kicking and screaming, I have come to trust and to surrender to my doctor—his authority, his expertise. Why do followers of Jesus obey him in all things? Because they have surrendered to his authority and expertise.
Possible Preaching Angles: Rick Mattson writes, "This analogy can work with any authority figure you can think of: pilot, air traffic controller, professor, lawyer, scientist, astronaut, boat captain and so on. I prefer the doctor image because it’s so universally revered. I suppose a skeptic could push back on the analogy by pointing out that sometimes doctors are wrong and one should get a second opinion. That’s fine. The point is that somewhere in the process I, the amateur, trust in some authority who makes an exclusive truth claim about my condition.”
Source: Rick Mattson, Faith is Like Skydiving: And Other Memorable Images for Dialogue with Seekers and Skeptics (IVP, 2014), Page 118-119
On a September afternoon in 1870, a party of nine explorers, eight army escorts, and two cooks made its way by horseback along the Firehole River in an untamed corner of Wyoming. Their task was to explore the mountains and valleys of an ancient volcano crater, an area known for geothermal activity. Nathaniel P. Langford, a member of the expedition, later recalled what met their gaze that September day:
Judge, then, what must have been our astonishment, as we entered the basin at mid-afternoon of our second day's travel, to see in the clear sunlight, at no great distance, an immense volume of clear, sparkling water projected into the air to the height of 125 feet. "Geysers! Geysers!" exclaimed one of our company, and, spurring our jaded horses, we soon gathered around this wonderful [sight]. It was indeed a perfect geyser … It spouted at regular intervals nine times during our stay, the columns of boiling water being thrown from 90 to 125 feet at discharge, which lasted from 15 to 20 minutes. We gave it the name of "Old Faithful."
Old Faithful in Yellowstone National Park earned its name for the predictability of its eruptions. It's still predictable today. In Langford's day, the only way to witness Old Faithful was to travel to Wyoming, a trip requiring expense, difficulty, time, and danger. But today anyone with Internet access can watch the geyser erupt in real time.
Source: Adapted from Jen Wilkins, In His Image (Crossway, 2018), pages 97-98
As the NBA gears up for the playoffs (right on the heels of college basketball's March Madness), there was an interesting article about one thing about basketball that hasn't changed since James Naismith invented the game in 1891—the floor of a basketball court. The first game was played on a floor of hard maple. According to an article in The Guardian, "Maple flooring is harder than red oak, black walnut, or cherry flooring, and its tight grain made it easier to clean and maintain. … The maple floor also turned out to be the perfect surface for dribbling a basketball."
So it is no surprise that "the NCAA said the official courts for both the men's and women's Final Fours were made of 500 trees of northern maple carefully harvested from the Two-Hearted River Forest Reserve in Michigan's Upper Peninsula."
And the NBA follows suit. All of the courts "but one NBA team are composed of hard maple; the Boston Celtics, who play on a red-oak parquet floor, are the exceptions. Hard maple offers the most consistent playing surface, but it also provides 'bounce-back,' or shock resistance, to lessen fatigue on players' knees and ankles."
Possible Preaching Angles: Some things have lasting value, even infinitely beyond maple floors—like God's Word, or the glory of God.
Source: Dave Caldwell, "Hard Maple: Why Basketball's Perfect Surface Has Lasted More than a Century," The Guardian (4-5-2017).
The Oxford Comma is perhaps the most controversial piece of punctuation in the English language. There are conflicting guidelines governing whether or not the extra comma at the end of a list should be used, depending on which authority one consults. Those in opposition say the comma is unnecessary, while supporters of the comma argue that it serves to clarify in instances whether two items are meant to belong together or not (as in "I'd like to thank my parents, Mother Theresa and the Pope.").
The controversy heated up, however, when a judge in Maine ruled that a dairy company owed its employees approximately $10 million in unpaid overtime expenses for an absent Oxford Comma which rendered a list of overtime exemptions slightly ambiguous. The ruling reversed the decision of a lower court. Though not an official stance, the lawyer representing the drivers said that in cases of ambiguous sentences, the best rule to live by is: "If there's any doubt, tear up what you have and start over."
Potential Preaching Angles: It is amazing what kind of confusion can be caused by one missing punctuation mark. By the grace of God, however, the Bible is abundantly clear when it comes to the inerrancy of Scripture, the Gospel, and the identity of Jesus Christ. We do not need to fear misunderstandings of either the Bible or the Person of Jesus because it has been revealed as unambiguously as possible: "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."
Source: "Lack of Oxford Comma Could Cost Maine Company Millions in Overtime Dispute" The New York Times (3-16-17)
Alas, the Monopoly thimble is no more. Back when the iconic board game was introduced during the Great Depression, players could choose from a variety of game pieces, including the top hat, boot, iron, racecar, and dog. Parker Brothers, the creators of the game, have cycled game pieces in and out over the decades, "retiring" dated pieces in favor of more relevant ones. Recent years have seen the company host online polls where fans can vote to keep or replace the current pieces. The practice has gained popularity across the internet, and has resulted in the death of the iron, horse and rider, and now the thimble-icons of a bygone age, replaced by ideas promising to be more exciting and certainly less "old-fashioned" to modern generations. Its replacement has yet to be determined, but could take the form of a cell phone, computer, or even jet.
Only time will tell how long the few remaining original pieces will last in our ever-evolving world, but until then, we can all bid the thimble a warm and nostalgic goodbye.
Potential Preaching Angles: Some things need to change and die, going the way of the thimble. Other things—like the Word of God, the truths of Scripture, the core of the gospel, etc.—do not change even when they are no longer as popular.
Source: Joe Tamborello "It's game over for the Monopoly thimble," USA Today (2-16-17).
The British theologian Leslie Newbigin told the following story to illustrate how different cultures water down the claims of Jesus:
When I was a young missionary I used to spend one evening each week in the monastery of the Ramakrishna Mission in the town where I lived, sitting on the floor with the [Hindu] monks and studying with them the Upanishads and the Gospels. In the great hall of the monastery, as in all the premises of the Ramakrishna Mission, there is a gallery of portraits of the great religious teachers of humankind. Among them, of course, is a portrait of Jesus. Each year on Christmas Day worship was offered before this picture. Jesus was honored, worshipped, as one of the many manifestations of deity in the course of human history.
But this wasn't a step toward leading people to faith in Jesus Christ. It was actually what Newbigin called "the cooption of Jesus into the Hindu worldview." He explains:
Jesus had become just one figure in the endless cycle of karma and samsara, the wheel of being in which we are all caught up. He had been domesticated into the Hindu worldview. That view remained unchallenged. It was only slowly, through many experiences, that I began to see that something of this domestication had taken place in my own Christianity, that I too had been more ready to seek a "reasonable Christianity," a Christianity that could be defended on the terms of my whole intellectual formation as a twentieth-century Englishman, rather than something which placed my whole intellectual formation under a new and critical light. I, too, had been guilty of domesticating the gospel.
Source: Leslie Newbigin, The Gospel in a Pluralist Society (Eerdmans, 1989), page 3
Lee Strobel uses the following illustration to highlight the moral rebellion that makes clear truths of Scripture much more ambiguous than they are.
Imagine a daughter and her boyfriend going out for a Coke on a school night. The father says to her, "You must be home before eleven." It gets to be 10:45 p.m. and the two of them are still having a great time. They don't want the evening to end, so suddenly they begin to have difficulty interpreting the father's instructions: What did he really mean when he said, "You must be home before eleven"? Did he literally mean us, or was he talking about you in a general sense, like people in general? Was he saying, in effect, "As a general rule, people must be home before eleven"? Or was he just making the observation that "Generally, people are in their homes before eleven"? I mean, he wasn't very clear, was he?
And what did he mean by, "You must be home before eleven"? Would a loving father be so adamant and inflexible? He probably means it as a suggestion. I know he loves me, so isn't it implicit that he wants me to have a good time? And if I am having fun, then he wouldn't want me to end the evening so soon. And what did he mean by, "You must be home before eleven"? He didn't specify whose home. It could be anybody's home. Maybe he meant it figuratively. Remember the old saying, "Home is where the heart is"? My heart is right here, so doesn't that mean I'm already home? And what did he really mean when he said, "You must be home before eleven"? Did he mean that in an exact, literal sense? Besides, he never specified 11 p.m. or 11 a.m.
And he wasn't really clear on whether he was talking about Central Standard Time or Eastern Standard Time. In Hawaii, it's still only quarter to seven. As a matter of fact, when you think about it, it's always before eleven. Whatever time it is, it's always before the next eleven. So with all of these ambiguities, we can't really be sure what he meant at all. If he can't make himself more clear, we certainly can't be held responsible."
Source: James Emery White, Christ Among Dragons (IVP Books, 2010), page 177
In the Kingdom of Ice is journalist Hampton Sides' compelling account of the failed nineteenth-century polar expedition of the USS Jeannette, captained by Lieutenant George De Long. It serves as a cautionary tale about the hazards of misorientation—not because of a faulty compass but because of a mistaken map. De Long's entire expedition rested on a picture of the (unknown) North Pole laid out in the (ultimately deluded) maps of Dr. August Heinrich Petermann. Petermann's maps suggested a "thermometric gateway" through the ice that opened onto a vast "polar sea" on the top of the world—a fair-weather passage beyond all the ice. De Long's entire expedition was staked on these maps.
But it turned out he was heading to a world that didn't exist. As perilous ice quickly surrounded the ship, Sides recounts, the team had to "shed its organizing ideas, in all their unfounded romance, and to replace them with a reckoning of the way the Arctic truly is."
Our culture often sells us faulty, fantastical maps of "the good life" that paint alluring pictures that draw us toward them. All too often we stake the expedition of our lives on them, setting sail toward them with every sheet hoisted. And we do so without thinking about it because these maps work on our imagination, not our intellect. It's not until we're shipwrecked that we realize we trusted faulty maps.
Source: James K.A. Smith, You Are What You Love (Brazos Press, 2016), page 21; source: Hampton Sides, In the Kingdom of Ice (Doubleday, 2014), page 163.
An August 2015 poll from Barna highlighted what's been called our "new moral code." Here are the percentages of those who agreed "completely" or "somewhat" with the following statements:
Based on these results, David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons conclude: "The morality of self-fulfillment is everywhere, like the air we breathe. Much of the time we don't even notice we're constantly bombarded with messages that reinforce self-fulfillment—in music, movies, video games, apps, commercials, TV shows, and every other kind of media."
Source: David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons, Good Faith (Baker Books, 2016), pages 55-57
In his book Visions of Vocation, Christian author and thinker Stephen Garber tells the story of meeting a woman who directed the Protection Project, an initiative under Harvard University's Kennedy School of Government that addresses human trafficking. Garber asked her, "So why do you care about the issue of human trafficking?"
She told the story of her heart opening to the cries of women and girls who were sold into slavery, often involving sexual bondage. After writing on the issue, the Kennedy School hired her to work at their Protection Project initiative in Washington D.C. Then Garber describes what happened next:
As we talked in her office, I watched her staff walking by in the hallway outside her door, and their serious and eager faces impressed me. She eventually said, "I get the most interesting applications here. Just imagine. Harvard University, Washington, D.C., human rights. It's a powerful combination, and it draws unusually gifted young women and men from the best universities in America."
But then she surprised me with these words, "After a few weeks they almost always find their way down the hall, knock on my door and ask to talk. Now, I know what they are going to say. After thanking me for the position and the opportunity, a bit awkwardly they ask, 'But who are we to say that trafficking is wrong in Pakistan? Isn't it a bit parochial for us to think that we know what is best for other people? Why is what is wrong for us wrong for them?' To be honest, I just don't have time for that question anymore. The issues we address are too real, they matter too much. I need more students like the one you sent me, because I need people who believe that there is basic right and wrong in the universe!"
Source: Stephen Garber, Visions of Vocation (IVP Books, 2014), pp. 70-71
Christian philosopher J.P. Moreland has written about an encounter with a student at the University of Vermont. Moreland was speaking in a dorm when a student told him, "Whatever is true for you is true for you and whatever is true for me is true for me. If something works for you because you believe it, that's great. But no one should force his or her views on other people since everything is relative." As Moreland left, he unplugged the student's stereo and started out the door with it.
The student protested: "Hey, what are you doing? … You can't do that." Moreland replied, "You're not going to force on me the belief that it is wrong to steal your stereo, are you?" He then went on to point out to the student that, when it's convenient, people say they don't care about sexual morality or cheating on exams. But they become moral absolutists in a hurry when someone steals their things or violates their rights. That is, they are selective moral relativists.
Interestingly, a few weeks later this student became a follower of Christ because he recognized the connection between God and human dignity and rights—that God made us in his image. I like to tell churches that this could be a great new evangelistic method called, "Stealing Stereos for Jesus."
Source: Paul Copan, "'It's All Relative' and Other Such Absolute Statements: Assessing Relativism," Enrichment Journal
An article on CNN reported on two atheists who wanted to rewrite the Ten Commandments. The article begins with this question: "What if, instead of climbing Mount Sinai to receive the Ten Commandments from God, Moses had turned to the Israelites and asked: Hey, what do you guys think we should do?" That was the idea behind the "10 'Non-Commandments' Contest," in which atheists were asked to offer modern alternatives to the famous Decalogue. The contest even offered $10,000 for the best ideas.
The contest drew more than 2,800 submissions from 18 countries and 27 U.S. states. The proposed "non-commandments" ranged from the quizzical ("Don't follow your nature") to the quixotic ("Thriving in space is the ultimate goal"). A team of 13 judges selected 10 of the more sober and serious submissions, and announced the winners.
The article summarized the list this way:
There's nary a "thou shalt" among them—nothing specifically about murder, stealing, or adultery, although there is a version of the Golden Rule, which presumably would cover those crimes. If they lack faith in the divine, the atheist "non-commandments" display a robust faith in humankind, as if Silicon Valley had replaced Sinai.
Here are the winning "Ten Non-Commandments":
Source: Daniel Burke, "Behold, Atheists New Ten Commandments," CNN (12-20-14)
Bill Klem was the father of baseball umpires: colorful, judicious, and dignified. He was beyond passionate about America's favorite pastime, declaring, "To me, baseball is not a game, but a religion." The first umpire to use arm signals while working behind home plate, Bill umped for 37 years, including 18 World Series. He became known as "the Old Arbitrator," a deferential nod to his keen eye for calling balls and strikes.
On one such occasion, as he crouched and readied behind the plate, the pitcher threw the ball, the batter didn't swing, and, for just an instant, Bill said nothing. The batter turned and snorted, "Okay, so what was it, a ball or a strike?" To which Bill responded, "Sonny, it ain't nothing 'till I call it."
Source: David Sturt, Great Work (McGraw Hill, 2013), page 139
Tim loved his brand new house. The architect, who had supervised the entire building work, designed it so it was a big, open building. The walls were massive windows and the ceiling had a huge skylight in it so the whole house was full of light. There was also a little flowerbed in the middle of it. And in the middle of the flowerbed was one little plant—a gift from the architect himself. The plant would need hardly any attention because the flowerbed had a fully plumbed-in, automated watering system. And, of course, there was plenty of light in the house. All that was required was a little pruning from time to time to keep it from getting out of control.
But Tim's friends weren't so sure about this low-maintenance approach. They encouraged Tim to water it regularly just to make sure, so he did. The magazines Tim read were full of ads for different types of artificial fertilizer recommended for that kind of plant. So Tim tried these too. And the TV gardening programs said it really wasn't a great idea to prune those plants—they needed to be able to grow naturally. So Tim followed that advice too.
And it made a difference. Within weeks, it was shooting up and the leaves were thickening. Soon it was pushing the bounds for a normal-sized houseplant. Tim didn't notice the out-of-proportion growth until the architect came for a visit. When Tim invited him in for a cup of tea he realized just what had happened. By then the change was dramatic. That little plant had started to take over the entire house. Getting around the root structure in the house involved stepping over some branches, ducking others and generally some pretty impressive acrobatics. The plant had come to dominate everything.
But the change which concerned the architect most of all was the lack of light. The foliage was so dense that barely any of that beautiful light was getting through. If you looked really carefully, you could see a kind of pale tinge around the edge of some of the leaves. But that was now about all you could see of the light. It had become a dark green. This was definitely not the architect's original design.
Source: Adapted from Orlando Saer, Big God (Christian Focus, 2014), pp. 28-29