What Ziad Knew
Twenty-five years ago, I flew toward Israel while the towers were falling, lost my luggage, got stranded at a closed border, and met a Palestinian Christian named Ziad outside a church in Bethlehem who undid something in me in half an hour. This is that story, told in full for the first time — and it doesn't end where you'd expect. I'll tell you what I did with it on Sunday.
Series Information
Twenty-five years ago I was on a plane to the Middle East when the towers fell. Two weeks after I got home, I stood up here and preached something I've been ashamed of ever since. This two-part series is the full story — the trip I've never told all the way through, and the sermon I gave afterward that took me twenty-five years to understand and confess. Part one is the story. Part two is the reckoning.