RE: Why is Tyre Still Here When God Said it Would Sink Under the Waves?
September 16, 2013 at 8:06 pm
(This post was last modified: September 16, 2013 at 8:08 pm by Lemonvariable72.)
(September 16, 2013 at 7:52 pm)searching4truth Wrote: Tyre was badly damaged in the late 1970s (Operation Litani) and early 1980s (1982 Lebanon War) during the war between Israel and thePalestine Liberation Organization (PLO). The city was used as a base by the PLO, and was nearly destroyed by Israeli artillery.[23] After Israel's 1982 invasion of southern Lebanon, the city was the site of an Israeli military post. In late 1982, and again on November 1983, buildings housing Israeli headquarters were destroyed by bombs, causing dozens of deaths in both cases and known in Israel as the First and Second Tyre CatastrophesThis prophecy is oddly clear. The city would have had to have been sunk and abandon after an attack by a Nebuchadnezzar.
Towers?
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyre,_Lebanon
Not bashing nor defending but curious what your take is on this
(September 16, 2013 at 7:48 pm)DeistPaladin Wrote:(September 16, 2013 at 6:45 pm)Lemonvariable72 Wrote: Now since Jesus is god after all, I think our lord is in the
closet
And what was the deal with the young naked guy at Jesus' arrest who made the hasty exit?
Quote:Mark 14:51-52 And there followed him a certain young man, having a linen cloth cast about his naked body; and the young men laid hold on him: And he left the linen cloth, and fled from them naked.
Not to mention the fact that Jesus chose 12 men to be closest to him. This is all inductive indeed
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.