Thompo Wins The Compo 29/1/07

May I pass on my heartfelt congratulations to Mr A Thompson of Fountainbridge for answering the question (see below) correctly and winning the prize, which he is free to claim at any time - unless I die (in case of which I've already discussed a contingency plan with Anna Luehrmann and she's kindly agreed to write it) or for some other reason lose my blog-posting privileges in the meantime. The drummer was indeed Bill Bruford, sometime Yes, King Crimson, Genesis, and Earthworks stickman, pictured playing actually with 2 Simmons SDX drum kits (that's SIXTEEN pads in all folks) on 1989's Yes-spinoff Anderson Bruford Wakeman and Howe tour. If you look closely, you may also see, amongst other things, a 24-inch Paiste gong and an acoustic Tama snare drum for emergencies (asides from being brilliantly designed and light years ahead of their time, Simmons kits were notoriously unreliable), such as occurred on the 15th July 1991 at, of all places, Madison Square Garden on the behemoth of a tour that was the Yes 'Union'. On said occasion, both kits simultaneously failed and and poor old Bill was left to fend off Alan 'Lightning' White in a drum battle with only said snare and the cymbals. Alas the lot of the electric percussionist. Acoustic drum fans can laugh at poor Bill's expense here, although I must warn you the picture quality is useless. To see the SDX's in all their glory, though, click here.

Oh, and by the way Andrew, if you'd like to suggest a further blog post on the rise and fall and rise again (the last rise being somewhat metaphorical, applying as it does only to that in my estimations) of the hapless, financially suicidal geniuses of Simmons, then you need only ask.

Did somebody say... montage?

It's Competition Time! ANSWERED - 28/01/2007

Good grief this is exciting. Since time immemorial, man has sought to attain but one accolade - that is, to become a winner of an Index blog competition. Many have battled in vain for such an award. Naomi Davidson won (amidst some controversy) the last and is now all the richer for having seen the mighty Asia dans concerto. But now, as if it were possible, the stakes have been raised even higher (I'd say the stakes are now at least eight feet in height). For, friends, the prize metaphorically dangling in front of your eyes now is the chance to rewrite a little bit of history (the history of the future, looking back to now). If, and I mean if, you can correctly answer the following question, then you will win the right to propose a topic about which I must write in a future blog post. That's right, whatever you'd like to be featured in this blog (bearing in mind this is a blog representing Index - which means, as far as I'm aware, that it can have a tittle but not too much tattle), will be, albeit in the DC style. So it may be something of an 'irreverent' look, depending on the subject - that will be up to me, you only get to choose the subject. Goodness I didn't think it would be this complicated. Anyway, maybe it's a serious topic you think folks (and me) need to know about. Maybe it's something you'd like to know more about but can't be bothered to research yourself. Whatever, I'll do all the work. Sounds good? Here's that all important question.

What kind of magnificent drumkit is featured in this photograph, and who is behind (and in front) of it?




No one who can view the script of this blog is allowed to enter (that means you Mikey). Otherwise, happy hunting. Oh, and to any drumming buffs out there, I know that, technically, this picture shows two kits, but you know what I mean.

Tempus Fugit Smashing The Fourth Wall!

Ready For More?



Tres expensif - Prestonfield, Prestonfield, Edinburgh www.prestonfield.com

Love is in the air folks. No, not here, it's all strictly business here at Blog Towers - but at the Prestonfield. 'Tis a romantic place, you see. For the Prestonfield, just think Narnia, except instead of a wardrobe you have the road on your left after the Commie Pool, past James 'Spency Boy' Spence's place. For, like Narnia, it's a massive place which you are entirely unaware the existence thereof until you enter it. The Prestonfield may not be full of Christian allegory, admittedly, but I'm sticking to my simile nonetheless.

Simile's abounding, and for that I make no apology - driving down the Prestonfield's, er, drive is like taking about seven steps back in time - and that's big metaphorical steps not little tiny ones (thanks Garth Marenghi). There's immaculate lawns, rolling fields, an amazing view of Arthur's Seat and lots of strange statues, ornaments and sunhouses and such. And like Jurassic Park, it seems to be able to maintain it's own ecological system despite being only five minutes equidistant from the sad relic that is the Commie's flume building (ahh, the Vortex and it's wonderful camel humps) and the monolithic faux-laser trimmed crystal maze-alike nightmare that is Cameron Toll. Don't worry, there's nothing there to have us naive, ignorant young-earthists choking on our Answers From Genesis FAQ sheets, but rather peacocks and even Highland Cattle roaming the grounds. It's all for the benefit of naive, ignorant tourists, of course, but I like it. Next time you're taking an afternoon stroll down Dalkeith Road, take a detour to the Prestonfield and have a look at the grounds for yourself - you'll be coughing up similes all the way home I promise you.

The tourist-baiting doesn't stop with the cattle either - just have a look at the staff. Every one of them looks like they've just walked (through some dimensional portal, I suppose) off a porridge box, although instead of throwing a shot or caber or something they're taking your coat and drinks orders: it's Brigadoon in hotel/restaurant form. As you enter, you're realise that the almost gentric (my dictionary tells me that isn't a word but then we've never gotten along very well) exterior is not replicated inside. Nope, inside you can tell immediately that James Thompson, 'impresario' so beloved of the Edinburgh press and the founder of such cathedrals of subtlety as the Witchery and the Tower, has had his wicked way with the place-  this place is decadent with a capital double chocolate topping, with chocolate sauce and chocolate sprinkles, on a white chocolate base. Whether it's tacky or not, with it's ultra-gothic decor and floor-to-ceiling tapestries (you'll have to resist the temptation to say you are a Scottish Lord who has 'come to see the tapestries' - they might not like the National Socialist implications), is subjective I guess - I think it probably is a little but it's lots of fun so I don't really care.

On arrival, you'll be offered a choice of rooms, each individually named and styled (I, like the stereotypical Brit I am, chose the 'yellow room' because there was no one else in it) in which you can enjoy pre-meal drinks and some little snacks, and peruse the menus. When your table is ready, you will be ushered through to a truly impressive dining room - the most extravagant in Edinburgh I'd say - from which the fun begins. All the while, you will be enjoying exceptional service which befits such a building, and I am glad to say that even when you make it clear that yes, you would like to order from the cheapy set menu rather than the a la carte, and no, you won't be having any wine, that doesn't change. Again, this is what should make you seriously consider coming here. So many people have this preconception that places like the Prestonfield are generally off limits to them, save perhaps for extra-special occasions, when in fact if they bothered to look they'd see a set menu on offer which will cost them little or no more than they'd pay at a Filling Station or Hard Rock Cafe. And trust me, the Prestonfield set menu is no poor relation - there was fois gras with at least one of the starters and one of the mains featured a roast beef fillet. It still feels and tastes special, which is the most important thing, but your heart isn't going to skip a beat when that small leather folder is brought out at the end - and the fact that it is significantly cheaper is probably, come to think about it, why most patrons of the Prestonfield seemingly give it a wide berth. Don't let that put you off though - the Index blog is making frugality cool again.

How much you say? Well, as is common in this feature you could pay a lot but if you are careful you needn't. There is a pretty affordable lunch and afternoon tea (now there's an under-utilised occasion) menu, and at dinner time the set menu (£16 for 2 courses) is great value, plus you can pay for the puddings separately to get three courses. If you're a boy on a date, I always recommend sharing a pudding as it seems somewhat quaintly romantic, you won't come across as a glutton and yet the lady will happily insist that you eat almost all of it, plus you save a few quid. Can't say fairer than that. I did pay for water on last visit, may have been able to push for tap but a surprisingly small pre-dinner drinks bill had left me in unusually good humour. Most importantly, I must point out (although I cannot guarantee you will be shown the same courtesy) that at no point did the opportunity to give a tip arise - maybe they forgot? With most places these days crassly challenging your thriftiness by allowing/forcing you to enter a 'service charge' directly into the card machine after paying the bill, such was an unexpected pleasure. I may get around to provide tipping advice at a later point, but for now I'll just say it depends on how confident you are and what sort of diners you are dining with - always best to stick to round numbers though as a specific total smacks of cheapness and penny-pinching, although if a ladyfriend has received poor service then a firm no tip may prove attractive. If your dining partner has worked in a service industry, and particularly if he/she has been a waiter or waitress, then you MUST leave a good tip, or they'll think less of you even if they don't let on.

And on what occasion? Well last time I checked the Brattasani's chippie was closed so if you're looking for some post-swimming grub you could do a lot worse. A date here will always go down well, although if your car is a banger beware because there's no place to hide in the Prestonfield car park - it's reminiscent of the one in that rubbish Nick Cage 'vehicle' Gone In Sixty Seconds (if you haven't seen it, don't bother - that gag was better than the film) without the Dodge Vipers. Best take a taxi or suddenly develop a desire for a short stroll if you are prone to insecurities. You'll want to get dressed up a little whatever the occasion though because all the staff are in kilts so you'll stand out a mile if you're scruffy, although again if such appeals then go right ahead - it's a hotel too so they won't chuck you out. In my experience, even ladies you think never like to get dressed up, secretly do so they'll love the opportunity presented here (apologies again to those shaking their heads). It's maybe a little special for family or friends get-togethers unless you like to do things a little formally - it's one of these great places that feels more expensive than it is and so is maybe best left for impressing although if my folks invited me out for a meal there I wouldn't say no.

And I could combine it with? A trip to the swimming pool up the road. And even though, as mentioned previously, the Commie Pool's flumes are closed, they still have diving boards so you won't get too bored. Or maybe you actually just enjoy swimming back and forward, whatever floats your boat (NOTE: there aren't any floats there either, I'm afraid. Yes you're right, it is rubbish and we do pay too much Council tax, unless you're a tax-dodging student which I know many of you are, in which case you might want to take a long, hard look at yourself because you may be the reason I can't bash my head going down Stingray anymore. Anyway, I digress which I don't think is allowed in a bracket). A perfectly pleasant afternoon or evening could be spent perusing the grounds and retiring to one of the Prestonfield's rooms, you could play a round of golf on the adjacent course if you knew someone with a membership, were rich or didn't have an ethical problem with sneaking on, you could go to Arthur's Seat for a walk or to slide down a bit of it on a bin bag, or you could really treat yourself and peruse (that word again) Cameron Toll's fine arcade of wonderful stores.


Tres tres reasonable - Deveau's at The Open Arms Hotel, Dirleton, East Lothian www.openarmshotel.com

If you happened to read an earlier part of this Index blog-exclusive feature, you'd have read me say some pretty harsh things about heritage bodies and the sites they try and preserve. Partly, I said them because I think they're true, but partly I must confess I said them because I was thinking at the time of asking a pretty big favour of someone I knew at one of the sites and I find self-aware teasing like that funny for some reason. The truth is, some heritage sites remain untouched by the trappings of modern day efforts to hold the attention of us absent-minded, media-obssessed youngfolk, one such place being Dirleton Castle.

Tantallon Castle (that amazing looking place in the picture), five miles or so past North Berwick heading east, is another and is in fact far far nicer (probably the best historic site of any kind in Scotland IMHO) than Dirleton Castle but it doesn't have a great hotel and restaurant directly opposite it so, anyway, as I was saying, Dirleton Castle. It's big, it's pretty much intact, it has some pretty boring grounds round it and it still has a drawbridge at the front of it. So far so alright. But that place opposite it!

The Open Arms is to village hotel/restaurants what Steve Howe is to guitar playing, ie a very good example thereof. It's also versatile, getting on a bit, and quietly understated, and whatever the hotel/restaurant equivalent of the pedal steel is,  I've no doubt that it has mastered it (maybe it's having an open fire in the lounge?) It might look like a trillion other places you drive past on the great B-roads of this fine nation (that's the UK, not just this little top bit of it) but in actual fact it's a whole lot better than just about all of them, and you owe it to yourself to visit it and to do it soon, although it's not closing or anything like that as far as I've heard so if you can't for a while that should be fine too.

I've told loads of folk about the Open Arms and how good it is. Most of them couldn't care less what I think about it, some of them had a vague expression on their coupons (that's Scottish for faces, or heads, in case I offended anyone last paragraph) which suggested they were either not listening at the time or were temporarily comatose but were probably just not listening; some however have actually taken heed of my recommendation and made the trip out to Dirleton. What's important is that they've agreed, it is barry (that's Scottish for good, or at least it was when I were a lad). Dirleton's a lovely place, just off the North Berwick road a couple of miles before it reaches there, and leads if you go through it to the best beach in East Lothian (and the best grassy car park for some late-night boy racing action) Yellowcraigs. Dirleton itself has a village green, a proper old village shop (which does, I am delighted to inform you, continue bravely to sell, or at least offer for sale, buckets and spades), a lovely church complete with graveyard and a couple of those art gallery/pottery/woollen/expensive tea shop places which are lovely to walk around but from which you'll never buy a thing. There's at least one other hotel there, which sells food too, but it can't be better than the Open Arms so just ignore it.

A warning - book in advance for this place. I'm telling you - the old folks come here in their well-informed droves. Looking for a sure sign of quality with anything? Follow those blue rinses. I was out in Portobello the other day, looking for a coffee shop (as you do when you're a bohemian type like me), and when I saw some old dears enjoying a scone in one particular place on the High Street, I knew I'd struck afternoon relaxation gold. Make no mistake, if there's one thing that old people hate (other than a young person sitting in one of the 'elderly or infirm' seats on the bus) it's being ripped off. They won't (can't? - I can get away with that after my earlier posts can't I?) stand for it, and neither should we. Deveau's, the Brasserie is where they go, rather than the sumptuous fine dining 'Library' restaurant (about £30 a head and worth every penny I believe, but just try telling that to an oldie when there's cheaper grub available in the same place) also offered by the Open Arms, and for tres tres reasonable purposes we will too.

The menu of this place is amazing. It's vast, and yet changes everyday too, in a way which would be irritating if everything that sounds delicious wasn't replaced by something equally so every time. Expect to be greeted by about 25 dishes you fancy, from staples like lasagne with garlic bread to lemon sole gougons with baked potato wedges and haggis, from venison to, well look at the menu on the website. Nothing pretentious about any of the dishes, and nothing an old person (or us savvy but food illiterate youngsters) wouldn't understand, either, but everything just sounds so appealing. If only there was a 'little bit of everything' option, but I suppose that would create something of a logistical problem for the chef. Anyway, everything does change daily, but you can rest assured that these sorts of things will always be available, either as starters or mains, in different combos. And before I go any further, because I know how important this is to so many of you cheapskates, COMPLIMENTARY WATER IS SERVED as are complimentary warm rolls with butter, so one Irn Bru should last the whole meal. It's always good to know you can pour more water into your dining partner's glass in a chivalrous manner without pangs of regret at the financial recriminations I find, so the water is welcome.
How much you say? The menu on the website should give you the rundown. In other words, look for yourself. Dish by dish, prices are pretty much average (although the food is most certainly not) but when you take advantage of the special deals always available, you'll probably leave feeling that you should have worn a black and white striped T-shirt, a black mask and carrying a bag with a dollar sign on it.  Basically, go either at lunchtime or, for dinner, make sure you arrive before 7pm, Monday to Thursday, or half 6, Friday to Sunday, and you'll save yourself a fortune and get quite possibly the best value meal of your life - three courses at £14:25 is outstanding for what you get, £11:45 for two is great also and you can choose which two courses those should be (I'm not a starter and-pudding man myself, to be honest I can't say I've ever met one either, but maybe you are and in that case you will be well served; likewise if you're gluttony only extends as far as two puddings). Follow that up with a coffee or tea which you can take in the lovely lounge (avec aforementioned log fire), and which the good folks will be happy to replenish avec shortbread for as long as you like at no extra charge, and even the cheapest of thrift merchants is going to be happy.

And on what occasion? Taking a left turn off the A1 before Port Seaton is like swapping your Ford Focus for a DeLorean without the gullwing doors - it's a step back in time. If that appeals, then any chance to visit East Lothian is a good occasion, and when there you could meet your gastronomic needs no better than at the Open Arms (apart from maybe Greywalls at Muirfield but that's a story for another post, and couldn't be described as tres tres reasonable cause it's pretty dear). I'll say it again - avoid the city centre if you can and take a trip out of town - any family engagement, date or day out with friends will be all the better for it. Having said that, I must make mention of Kebabish Original just down from the Playhouse where the Bronx Cafe used to be (they sold up after a big lottery win in case you were wondering) - which contrary to popular belief is a Pakistani grill restaurant rather than a kebab house but also does great pizzas and burgers and stuff - and which despite being in the centre of town and belonging to a chain is actually great. Anyway, I'm standing both corrected and at the same time adjacent to my earlier comment, as is my wont.

And I could combine it with? When you've made the short trip out to Dirleton, the world is quite literally your oyster, whatever that means. I've mentioned Yellowcraigs, which is great particularly because the payoff of the sea and beach necessitates a little walk - you can't see it from the car park. I recollect the prospect of the journey from car to sea being as a dagger through my 9 year old heart as a lad - especially the return journey, which of course followed the singularly traumatic experience of mother scrubbing the sand from my feet with a sandpaper-like towel - but now I can appreciate it, especially as it passes a public toilet (those tall grasses just not being quite tall enough anymore). Otherwise, there's golf aplenty and Gullane, Longniddry et al, the aforementioned castles at Dirleton and the spectacular Tantallon (perhaps the single greatest engagement spot on earth if anyone's interested in such things) and North Berwick itself where there is loads to do, except for (sadly) swim in a massive freezing outdoor swimming pool. It's now a sea bird centre, so at least the birds are happy with the change (I imagine, haven't asked them personally).


Tres fair enough - Anstruther Fish Bar, Anstruther, Fife www.anstrutherfishbar.co.uk

The way I see it, an imaginary journalist should be fully entitled to an imaginary postbag. After all, Glen Michael had one, and, fair enough, he was the purveyor of a cavalcade of fine cartoons, but I mean, come on.
Anyway, I was perusing said postbag just the other day (no, not that one, the other day) when I came across this question. Dave Charlie, what's the best chippie on this great and glorious island? Thanks for the letter, I thought to myself (the imaginary correspondent told me not to mention it), but that's so easy it was barely worth your time writing it even in an imaginary metaphysical way - Something's Cooking in Letterston, South West Wales by a mile. So I carried on about my business, then came another question - So what's the best in this little top bit of it, you know, Scotland, then? Ahh, I thought, that's a little tougher.

Now, the Sea Fish Industry Authority might say that some place in Falkirk does the best fish supper in Scotland, but can we really place our trust in such a body? Not in my experience we can't. Anyway, just as truly great swordfish can only be enjoyed on the coastal towns of the Algarve, and irn-bru from the confines of a cold glass bottle with a little dirt at the bottom and a slightly scabby-looking label, so a fish supper must be consumed within sight of the sea, preferably while perched on a small wall or park bench. Sorry Falkirk, you might (when it's fully functional) have a great wheel, but the best chippie in Scotland you cannot have. That honour must belong to Anstruther and its 'famous' (their inverted commas, amusingly) Fish Bar. UPDATE - It seems the Index blog just grows and grows in prestige and influence. Pray tell, which restaurant has won the hilariously-titled 'Scottish Fish and Chip Shop of the Year 2006-7' award? Yep, you've guessed it. Don't wait for the world to catch up - read it on the Index blog.

So what's so good about it? Oops, that's not an official Tempus question - shouldn't be italicised. So what's so good about it? Well, the location could not be better for a start. Look out the windows and all you'll see is sea. Well, and harbour, and fishing boats, and those massive orange ring things which would be too heavy to throw to someone even if they weren't rusted to their pole, and stuff like that. This, as all fish fans know, is perfect for helping galvinate (good ol' American English) the perception of freshness, even if the reality is that your haddock was caught somewhere close to where the Soviet government so beloved of our nation's academics used to send theirs. The other great thing is the queue you're guaranteed to find outside the place - building the anticipation of a quality meal, and there's nothing quite like the sight of a four year old absent-mindedly throwing the gargantuan remnants of their supper to the already quite sufficiently fattened gulls to really get the stomach juices flowing (in hunger mainly, incandescent rage a little as well).

Still , I mean, still not convinced? When you finally get inside, and decide if you want to join the takeaway queue or the sit-in one, you can peruse newspaper cuttings describing the patronage of such celebrities as Tom 'Turner' Hanks and our very own 'Bonnie' Prince William. But, best of all (oh, by the way, the fish tastes wonderful as well, it's freshly fried to order with nothing sitting around even for a minute, but anyway as I was saying) you can even watch a video of the Scottish fishing industry as your appetite is whetted almost to breaking point! That's the sort of attention to detail that marks this place out from the rest. It's like going into a restaurant famed for its bacon and gammon steaks, and watching Babe while you wait. Truly a wonderful touch. And as I said, the fish and chips are scrumptious, the menu is full of interesting (if ultimately pointless) alternatives... it's just a delight.

How much you say?  I'll level with you, folks - it's been about six months since I was last in Anstruther, and although, of course, while there I had a fish supper, I honestly can't remember how much I paid for it. Given the fact that I seemingly went into post-traumatic shock after my chippie partner ordered the most ghastly concoction known to man - mushy peas - as a side order, it's quite possible I gave the lady at the till the entire contents of my wallet, including my Abbey National Action Savers Club Card, although as I said I can't remember. NB:That such a substance is available at all almost made me avoid all mention of Anstruther on the blog, although given it's already high popularity, with 2 hour-waits not uncommon at all, I felt it better to warn you rather than to leave you in blind ignorance. Complimentary water is, of course, an irrelevance at a chippie such as this one - everyone knows that only a beverage served in a glass bottle, like Irn Bru, red cola or limeade is a suitable accompaniment to a supper, on taste grounds alone. A little known fact, however, (at least until now) is that there exists sound medicinal reasoning for this as well, for only in such aforementioned beverages is their sufficient quantities of 'girders' to completely clear the arteries of the grease content found in an exquisite fresh fish supper.

And on what occasion? Unless you're a hardcore fish and chips man like Dave from Dunfermline (see the website), you probably aren't going to come all this way just for a supper. I understand. And anyway, there's a place far closer to home which should meet your needs in the speciality fish and chips area, which I'll mention in a later post. But when you are planning on being in the Kingdom, it's worth a detour whoever you're accompanied by, whether it be to take out your suppers and eat them in what is, after all, the correct manner - ie in the car, while sitting on the aforementioned short wall or park bench with view of the sea, or to be 'a bit posh' and eat in, which if you're out to impress or it's blowing a gale may be the most viable option. Wine is available for the purpose should you so desire it so it's just about special enough, but be warned you'll still look conspicuous in black tie - it may be the Cartier of chippies but it's still a chippie. I know for a fact that girlfriends who have a 'moderation' approach to healthy eating, and particularly friends from abroad will absolutely love everything about the Anstruther, especially the traditional sweetie shop (soor plooms etc) and ice cream parlour which is at the far end of the restaurant. Out of town, as I've said before, is always the way to go if you have some time, and the drive back down to Edinburgh from here is a particular beauty at the right time of day - catch the sun as it's coming down and see God at His majestic creative best.

And I could combine it with? A trip to St Andrews is a must.... where else can you walk across the most famous bridge in all of golf (the Swilken) one minute and recreate the famous pose of your favourite blog contributor the next? Park at the Old Course Hotel, and head up adjacent to the 18th, stop to reflect and give thanks at the Martyr's Monument and then head to the Castle, where you'll find the aforementioned Knox exhibit amongst other things. And yes, the rumours are true... Knoxy speaks! But to find out what he says, you'll have to go yourself. Said things include an incredible, labyrinthine (love using that word, for once I'm actually justified in doing so) network of tunnels, the history of which would make a fascinating blog post in its own right. Maybe from one of the other skilled wordsmiths on the wonderful Index 'core team'?

Phew, there's that then. Look out for more Fugit soon, and possibly some other disposable pap too.

I remain, as the great man himself says, your humble fabulist

DC

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TWENTY

What is the significance of this number? Two things really. It is greater than the number of days until our weekend away; and it is about the number of spots left for the weekend away.

And, if you wanted a third thing, it is also £2 more than what a half-day ski pass costs. If you are thinking about skiing on the Saturday, this would be something you'd like to know.

2007 and Cyrus the Great

Happy New Year! I hope your new year has started out well with a renewed vigour to pursue Christ and Christlikeness. A few more things as we all start returning to Edinburgh.

1. We WILL be meeting this Sunday night (7 Jan). So if you are back in town do come by.

2. This Sunday evening at INDEX will be a brief review of last term and then a Q & A on any of the programme from last term. If you are planning on coming, start thinking now through some questions you may have. If you cannot come, you can email them to me for a response, or for us to discuss it on Sunday night. To stir the memory we looked at God the: One who exists, Creator, Trinity, Communicator, Sustainer, Redeemer, Father, Judge, and Man.

3. If you have taken one of the M'Cheyne read through programmes I hope that you've been able to start it (if not, you can still get one when you get back and pick up where we are at). If the Bible really does all that Psalm 19 says it does (which I trust we all agree on), then our reading and studying of it can only be profitable.

If you have begun the reading, here are a few thoughts on the start of the book of Ezra. We read in chapter 1 quite a list of fantastic things king Cyrus did for God's people and for God himself: sending the exiles back to Israel, funding their journey, and fully funding the rebuilding of the temple of God. You could say that Cyrus was used mightily of God, or that God used Cyrus to do mighty things for His people and His kingdom. And yet, Cyrus was a man who did not know God in a saving way. What does that mean? For one, that the extent of how we are used by God and even for God cannot be the grounds of our salvation or even of our assurance of salvation. Cyrus was used mightily and gained no eternal benefit from it for he did not humble himself before the glorious God who created him. God is not bound to use only believers to accomplish His purposes, but He offers to us the unimaginable opportunity to be used by Him to expand His kingdom. More than this, He offers us the opportunity to know Him in a relational way through the sacrifice of Christ on the cross. And yes, salvation produces works, but these works are not what saves. It is all about Christ, and not about ourselves.

What have you been learning from Genesis, Ezra, Matthew, or Acts?