Sorry, something went wrong. Please try again.
For years, Ben Affleck wrestled with alcohol addiction. A consequence, he says, of having an alcoholic father. But the actor shared that he was in a much better place now and doesn't think he will ever return to that way of life.
It is no secret that substance abuse is a pervasive problem in Hollywood. Tragic stories are common. So, how did Affleck escape this fate?
In an interview he credited his Christian faith. Affleck says his Christian faith in later life has allowed him to accept his flaws and imperfections as a man. He said:
The concept that God, through Jesus, embraces and pardons all of us - from those we admire to those we might judge or resent - is powerful. If God can show such boundless love, urging us to love, avoid judgement and offer forgiveness, it serves as a profound model of how we should strive to be.
What I truly appreciate, even as I still grapple with my faith and beliefs, as I think all people do at times, is the profound idea that we all have imperfections . . . It's our journey to seek redemption, embrace divine love, better ourselves, cherish others, refrain from judgement, and extend forgiveness.
Source: Bang Showbiz, "The Concept that God. . . Pardons All of Us Is Powerful," Contact Music (10-13-23)
In an issue of CT magazine, author Jordan Monge shares her journey from atheism to faith in Christ. She writes:
I don’t know when I first became a skeptic. It must have been around age 4, when my mother found me arguing with another child at a birthday party: “But how do you know what the Bible says is true?” By age 11, my atheism was widely known in my middle school and my Christian friends in high school avoided talking to me about religion because they anticipated that I would tear down their poorly constructed arguments. And I did.
Jordan arrived at Harvard in 2008 where she met another student, Joseph Porter, who wrote an essay for Harvard’s Christian journal defending God’s existence. Jordan critiqued the article and began a series of arguments with him. She had never met a Christian who could respond to her most basic questions, such as, “How does one understand the Bible’s contradictions?”
Joseph didn’t take the easy way out by replying “It takes faith.” Instead, he prodded Jordan on how inconsistent she was as an atheist who nonetheless believed in right and wrong as objective, universal categories.
Finding herself defenseless, Jordan took a seminar on metaphysics. By God’s providence her atheist professor assigned a paper by C. S. Lewis that resolved the Euthyphro dilemma, declaring, “God is not merely good, but goodness; goodness is not merely divine, but God.”
A Catholic friend gave her J. Budziszewski’s book Ask Me Anything, which included the Christian teaching that “love is a commitment of the will to the true good of the other person.” The Cross no longer seemed a grotesque symbol of divine sadism, but a remarkable act of love.
At the same time, Jordan had begun to read through the Bible and was confronted by her sin. She writes:
I was painfully arrogant, prone to fits of rage, unforgiving, unwaveringly selfish, and I had passed sexual boundaries that I’d promised I wouldn’t …. Yet I could do nothing to right these wrongs. The Cross looked like the answer to an incurable need. When I read the Crucifixion scene in the Book of John for the first time, I wept.
So, she plunged headlong into devouring books from many perspectives, but nothing compared to the rich tradition of Christian intellect. As she read the works of Augustine, Aquinas, Pascal, and Lewis, she knew that the only reasonable course of action was to believe in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
If I wanted to continue forward in this investigation, I couldn’t let it be just an intellectual journey. Jesus said, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:31–32). I could know the truth only if I pursued obedience first.” I then committed my life to Christ by being baptized on Easter Sunday, 2009.
God revealed himself through Scripture, prayer, friendships, and the Christian tradition whenever I pursued him faithfully. I cannot say for certain where the journey ends, but I have committed to follow the way of Christ wherever it may lead. When confronted with the overwhelming body of evidence I encountered, when facing down the living God, it was the only rational course of action.
Editor’s Note: Jordan Monge is a writer, philosopher, and tutor. She is also a regular contributor to the magazine Fare Forward and for Christianity Today.
Source: Jordan Monge, “The Atheist’s Dilemma,” CT magazine (March, 2013), pp. 87-88
In the fall of 1937, Ed Keefer was a senior in the school of engineering at the University of Toledo in Ohio. Tall, slender, and bespectacled, Keefer was the president of the calculus club, the vice-president of the engineering club, and a member of the school’s exclusive all-male honor society. He also invented the Cupidoscope.
The electrical device could not have been more perfectly designed to bring campus-wide fame to its creators, Keefer and his less sociable classmate John Hawley. It promised to reveal, with scientific precision, if a couple was truly in love. As the inventors explained to a United Press reporter as news of their innovation spread, the Cupidoscope delivered on its promise “in terms called ‘amorcycles,’ the affection that the college girl has for her boyfriend.”
Built in the school’s physics laboratory, the Cupidoscope was fashioned from an old radio cabinet, a motor spark coil, and an electrical resistor. To test their bond, a man and a woman would grip electrodes on either side of the Cupidoscope and move them toward one another until the woman felt a spark—not of attraction, but of electricity. The higher her tolerance for this mild current, the more of a love signal the meter registered. A needle decorated with hearts purported to show her devotion on a scale that ranged from “No hope” to “See preacher!”
It all sounds like a slightly painful party game—but the Cupidoscope was one experiment in a serious, decades-long quest to quantify love. This undertaking garnered the attention of leading scientists across the United States and in Europe in the early years of the 20th century, and it is memorialized most prominently in the penny arcade mainstay known as the Love Tester.
“How do you measure love?” The Bible gives an answer to this important question: It is measured by the self-sacrifice of the Cross—“By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers” (1 John 3:16); “Then you, being rooted and grounded in love, will have power, together with all the saints, to comprehend the length and width and height and depth of the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge” (Eph. 3:17-19).
Source: April White, “Inside a Decades-Long Quest to Measure Love,” Atlas Obscura (2-10-23)
Thomas A. Dorsey’s song “Take My Hand, Precious Lord” is one of the most beloved gospel songs of all time. The song’s power comes from profound personal tragedy. In August 1932, Dorsey, a Black band leader and accompanist, was on top of the world. He had recently been hired as director of the gospel chorus at Pilgrim Baptist Church in Chicago, and he was about to become a father for the first time.
Dorsey was nervous about traveling to a gospel music convention so close to his wife’s due date, but she gave her blessing. While he was in St. Louis, Dorsey received word that there had been complications with Nettie’s childbirth. He raced back to Chicago, but both mother and child died.
The double funeral took place at Pilgrim Baptist Church. Dorsey later said, “I looked down that long aisle which led to the altar where my wife and baby lay in the same casket. My legs got weak, my knees would not work right, my eyes became blind with a flood of tears.” Dorsey fell into a deep depression. He questioned his faith and thought of giving up gospel music.
Dorsey’s friend and fellow chorus director Theodore Frye persuaded him to accept a dinner invitation. After dinner, Dorsey meandered over to the grand piano and began to play the hymn “Must Jesus Bear the Cross Alone,” with its lyric “There’s a cross for everyone, and there’s a cross for me.” Dorsey began to play variations on the hymn’s melody, adding new lyrics. He called Frye over and began to sing, “Blessed Lord, take my hand.” Frye stopped him: “No man, no. Call him ‘precious Lord.’” Dorsey tried it again, replacing blessed with precious. “That does sound better!” he told Frye. “That’s it!”
Dorsey returned home and finished the song “in the next day or two.” Dorsey debuted “Take My Hand, Precious Lord” for the Pilgrim congregation at a Sunday worship service. The lyrics filled the sanctuary that morning: “Precious Lord, take my hand / Lead me on, let me stand / I am tired, I am weak / I am worn.” Dorsey was shocked to find congregants out of their seats and in the aisles, crying out in prayer. His song of deliverance from unbearable pain touched the heart of a congregation of Black Americans with testimonies of their own—of illness, death, poverty, or the daily indignities of discrimination.
Source: Robert Marovich, “The Origins of a Gospel Classic,” The Wall Street Journal (9-10-22)
While working in India, Doctor Paul Brand, who pioneered the modern treatment of leprosy, once laid his hand on a patient's shoulder. Then, through a translator, Brand informed the man about the treatment that lay ahead. To his surprise, the man began to shake with muffled sobs.
Doctor Brand asked his translator, “Have I done something wrong?” The translator quizzed the patient and reported, “No, doctor. He says he is crying because you put your hand around his shoulder. Until you came here, no one had touched him for many years.”
Source: Jeff Kennon, The Cross-Shaped Life (Leafwood Publishers, 2021), page 97
When Friedrich Stapel went to move the herd of cows under his care, he had no idea they would attract a following. But that’s exactly what happened after he spotted a wild boar piglet, roaming with his cows in his town of Brevoerde, Germany. He theorized that it must have gotten separated from his own kind while crossing a river, but he couldn’t leave the piglet to fend for himself. He said, “To leave it alone now would be unfair.” He nicknamed the piglet “Frieda,” and told the local hunter not to shoot it.
Whether because of the unusual sight of a piglet roaming with cows, or because of Stapel’s act of compassion, word has gathered in the town. You could say Stapel and his herd of cows have attracted a following.
The heart of Jesus is for all people to be brought into God’s family, especially those isolated or traumatized.
Source: Associated Press, “Herd The News? Wild Boar Piglet Adopted By German Cows,” Huffpost (9-29-22)
If we know we are loved, refuse to compare, and accept God’s will, we will sing the song of contentment.
Jesus displayed incredible compassion and then he told us to do likewise.
When police officer Cpl. Annette L. Goodyear holds up her hand to direct traffic in front of the local middle school, drivers usually stop. But when one driver didn’t, Goodyear didn’t have time to get angry or offended--she was instead focused on the girl crossing the street.
Cameras caught Goodyear as she pushed the child out of the way and was instead struck by the car herself, landing hard on the pavement. Goodyear said, “It was strange. As I’m lying there, I’m thinking to myself ‘this actually did happen.’ It didn’t seem real as it was happening.”
Authorities cited the driver for multiple infractions including negligent driving, failure to stop for a pedestrian in the crosswalk, and an expired registration.
Despite her hard landing, Goodyear was not significantly injured. She was in good enough spirits when she left the hospital that she immediately went to check on the student, who while not injured, was too shaken up to go to school.
Goodyear said, “She saw me standing there and as she was walking toward the door, she was getting teary-eyed. And when she got teary-eyed, then her dad started getting teary-eyed, and we all started at that point. I was just so thankful she was standing there and that she was OK.”
When you put your safety on the line for the benefit of others, you embody the sacrificial love that God has for all humanity which he showed in his Son on the Cross.
Source: Ed Mazza, “Hero Crossing Guard Hailed For Incredible Reflexes After Saving Kid From Car,” HuffPost (2-7-22)
Ryan and Morgan, adopted a child from an orphanage in another country. They'd passed through all the legal processes in that country. Charlie was their son. But right before the day when they were supposed to pick Charlie up from the orphanage, things changed. There were some political upheavals, and the country froze the process. No more children were going to be able to leave the country.
Charlie could not come to Ryan and Morgan. So, they decided to go to him. They flew over from the US and basically camped outside of the orphanage. They spent half their time with their son and the other half lobbying the courts and meeting with government officials, pleading with them to release their son.
After a few weeks Morgan came home, but Ryan stayed. It was at Christmas time. This was not where he wanted to be at Christmas—away from home, far from family. But here was a father who loved his son. Since his son could not come to him, he was going to go to that son, and he was going to fight for that son. There would be more days and weeks of struggle, but, wonderfully, Ryan was eventually able to bring Charlie home.
That Christmas, as Ryan battled corrupt court systems on the other side of the world … he was a picture of the kind of "Eternal Father" that Jesus is for anyone who asks him to be. Jesus went far further for us than Ryan went for his son. He didn't leave a country of privilege to move to a country of poverty. No, he left the riches of heaven to come to a world of pain. He did all that because he loves us. He did all that because he wants to be with us. He came to us to ensure that we could go to be with him, and it cost him far more than a plane ticket.
Source: J. D. Greear, Searching For Christmas (The Good Book Company, 2020), p. 45-46
Love others with extraordinary, genuine, God-given love, knowing God first loved you.
Terry Wogan was a veteran BBC broadcaster on the Radio 2 breakfast show for nearly 40 years. When Wogan was asked how many listeners he had, he said, “Only one.” In reality, he had over nine million. But in Wogan’s mind, he wanted every listener to feel like he was speaking directly to them.
God is like that. When you pray, you join with billions of other sometimes desperate and needy people--asking for his help. But he hears you as if you were the only one speaking. He speaks to you as if you were his only listener.
Source: James Dean, “‘We thought he was immortal’ - friends lament loss of Terry Wogan,” The Times (1-31-16)
The sun rises over the bay in Vinoy Park in St. Petersburg, Florida. Lounging on a bench near the sea wall—his bench—is Al Nixon. “Hi Al!” say the passers-by. “Have a good day!” says Al. For park regulars between 6am and 8am, he’s as reliable as the squirrels or the water fountains. Many who pass stop to chat. Many just give and receive a little wave. Day after day. Al has watched the sunrise from his bench, seven days a week, for years. Everyone seems to know him.
About seven years ago, Al needed to clear his head. Trouble at work, mostly. He found the perfect bench near the sea wall and watched the sun come up. It worked, and he started showing up for sunrise three or four days a week.
One day a complete stranger came up and told Al something he’ll never forget. “I know, when I see you sitting there, that everything is going to be alright.” Al said, “For the first time, I knew there was more of a purpose to me being out here than just soothing my own woes. We have an impact on other people.” Not only did he keep coming, but it became every day, even weekends. He had to do his duty.
Something else happened when he showed up every day. People started confiding in him. They told him about their children, their own childhoods, their finances, and their marriages. At the height of the pandemic, people told Al about loved ones they lost. Al said, “Mostly people just want to be heard. I’ve heard a thousand stories. I don’t consider myself all that smart, or debonair, but I’m a good listener.”
Then at 8am sharp, an alarm sounded on his phone. Al stood up, and walked off. He headed to work, feeling like his job was already done.
1) Encouragement; Friendship; Listening – One of the greatest gifts we can give to others is to listen, to care, and encourage them. 2) Christ, burden bearer; Love of Christ – The greatest Friend we have loves us (Eph 3:18-19), prays for us (Heb. 7:25), and will never forsake us (Heb. 13:5).
Source: Christopher Spata, “It’s St. Petersburg’s bench, but Al owns it,” Tampa Bay Times (5-24-21)
Within its first year, a dolphin develops a unique signature whistle which is the equivalent of its name; it uses this to identify itself to other dolphins. Adults are adept at copying the cries of other dolphins as if calling them by name. This is a fact backed up by a research study in Scotland which concluded that dolphins respond when another dolphin calls out their name.
An American research study concluded that dolphins recognize other dolphins even if they lost contact many years previously. One experiment proved that they could still remember each other’s whistle even after being apart for twenty years. Dolphins are socially complex mammals, and their social bonds with family and friends are very important.
The Bible says that God knows each one of us by name … that we belong to him. We are each unique individuals in God’s sight.
Source: Brandon Keith, “Researchers Find More Evidence That Dolphins Use Names,” Wired (7-23-13)
Country music star Merle Haggard wrote the following lyrics after spending years in and out of prison:
When they let me out of prison, I held my head up high,
Determined I would rise above the shame.
But no matter where I’m living, the black mark follows me,
I'm branded with a number on my name.
The lyrics are the reflections in a hit song recorded by Merle Haggard, titled “Branded Man.”
Devastated by his father’s death when he was still a child, Merle soon got into trouble and stepped into petty crime. He therefore found himself in prison many times, eventually ending up in the dreaded San Quentin Prison.
Through a series of events while in prison, Merle decided to change his lifestyle and took to music. He attributes this decision to a concert held by Johnny Cash at the prison. On being paroled, he took to country music and began to find success.
In 1972, Merle Haggard was granted a full pardon by then Governor of California, Ronald Reagan, and never looked back. He went on to become a legend in Country Music.
Sadly, we often accept the unkind labels put on us by others and live our lives believing that we have no worth! Whatever people say or think of us, however, what really matters is what God thinks of us. Thankfully, the scriptures show us that God places great value on us, and we need to believe what God says.
Source: “Merle Haggard,” Wikipedia (Accessed 4-16-21)
California’s San Joaquin Valley not only boasts 17 billion dollars in annual revenue, it’s also home to over 100,000 laborers. The Harvest, a documentary produced by CT Media, follows the story of Marisol and Joel Lopez, a couple who discover the transforming love of Christ in the midst of their challenging life as migrant workers in the valley. To learn more about migrant farm workers, read this report by Bekah McNeel.
This short film was part of CT’s December 2020 issue, which explored the many ways God is at work through the global church, bringing light and life, hope and healing in the age of the pandemic. Find more at MoreCT.com/globe.
Source: Christianity Today, December 2020, URL: https://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2020/december/food-migrant-farmworker-agriculture-documentary.html