WHEN I WAS AN 8TH GRADER, OUR SCHOOL’S DRAMA TEACHER suggested that I try out for the school play. I signed up and was given a part. My role was to carry a ladder onto the stage, climb to the top, and pretend to change a light bulb. From atop that ladder I was to speak two lines.
WEEKS BEFORE THE PLAY, my imagination began to conjure up disastrous scenarios.
IN JUNE 1944, WHILE WAITING TO BE EXECUTED in a Nazi prison cell, Dietrich Bonheoffer wrote some of the most soul searching poetry I’ve encountered. The marching boots of certain death approached with each tick of the clock. In this condition of unimaginable anxiety, his words plunged with unmasked veracity into the freedom of truth. In one poem called Who Am I? he wrote the following lines:
Rembrandt is considered by some to be the greatest of all artists in the history of western civilization. Any way we look at him, he is a timeless giant in the arenas of creative expression. Rembrandt was a master of painting light and blending color. As one looks at a Rembrandt, it is easy to marvel at his talent. Yet we must look behind his paintings, beyond the museum walls into his life. First, Rembrandt and his wife, Saskia, experienced the excruciating death of