John Stuart

There's an old joke from Scotland about a wee boy who comes back from his first day of school. His mom asks him how it went, and he answers: "It was okay, but I don't need to go back. The … Read more

In Britain, there was once a great comedian called Tony Hancock, and in the early years of television, he had his own situation comedy show. As a boy, I used to watch him every Saturday and laughed until tears came … Read more

I almost died of hepatitis in my last year of college. Somehow I had contracted it — either as the result of the lack of food hygiene in the university canteen or by way of a chemical chlorine reaction to … Read more

My father-in-law, Bill Smith, was a remarkably talented man. He was a hydraulic engineer, so he could fix basically anything that was mechanical. He grew up in the countryside, and as a young man, worked on various farms. I guess … Read more

I came across a new word the other day: acedia. It means "spiritual languor". I guess it's like belief burnout or compassion fatigue. It's when we lose our connection to God, His church, or His people, and we end up … Read more

I've a beautiful painting hanging over the fireplace in my home. It's a picture of Dunure Castle, an old medieval fort that sits above a cliff on the west coast of Scotland. At one time, it was owned by the … Read more

Part of my seminary training was spent dealing with people who had emotional problems. A group of our senior students were tutored by professional social workers who were attached to a local hospital. The purpose of the tutoring was not … Read more

I was involved in a radio debate a few months ago, regarding an issue about a local church having an evangelical crusade during school hours. Kids were taken out of their school for two hours, over a period of three … Read more

I'm always amazed at the amount of good that church people do in the world. Congregations are full of individuals who like to give of themselves to causes and charities over and above what they commit to their own church. … Read more

When I was a boy, the rag and bone man used to visit our street every summer. He came with his old chestnut-coloured horse and a cart filled with castaway clothes. He usually wore a cloth cap, checkered shirt, and … Read more