Sixteen years ago, the farmer/poet/novelist Wendell Berry spoke from our pulpit to a jam-packed sanctuary on a Thursday night. I watched young people who had never set foot in a church arrive and enthusiastically lean in to catch his every soft-spoken word.
Some of the best nuggets for a sermon end up on the cutting room floor. During the current series “Back to the School of Discipleship,” I’ve been reading lessons from the Apostle Paul on how to follow Jesus.
The great spiritual leader of our time, Father Richard Rohr, describes how we are all called to engage in an intimate relationship with the living God. All of us are called.
The hardest part of my job is also the hardest part of my faith. I’ve been trying to master it for decades, but it still eludes me. There is plenty for me to blame it on.
I stepped out into the soft green grass on the front lawn of the church so I could see the faces of the kids as they sang.
I met Mary when I was nine years old, and she became like a second mother to me. Tennis matches every Saturday, family vacations to the Lake every summer, mother-daughter excursions, neighborhood game nights, in-home manicures, and scavenger hunts at the farm were just a smattering of the joyful chapters we shared.
Bike rides, alpine slides, train rides, mountain hikes. We tried to cram a plethora of fun into our long-awaited week with the 12 of us. The first miracle was that we all showed up!
The top item on their lists surprised me. I thought they would want to see the White House, the Spy Museum, or the Lunar landing module. But my granddaughter Ella, age 12, wanted to see the Declaration of Independence and Constitution.
One day a week, she stuffed envelopes, answered the phone, greeted guests, and stapled documents. She was part of the cadre of women who volunteered in the main office, but there was some rare sparkle to Pat.
Children seem naturally good at play. I love watching them with the bubbles at the 9:01 service on the lawn. But somewhere along the way to adulthood, many of us lose that sense of playfulness.
In her book “Reclaiming Rest: The Promise of Sabbath, Solitude, and Stillness in a Restless World,” author Kate Rademacher shares her journey of trying to “keep the Sabbath.”
Children today have more toys than children in previous generations. But they are not more playful! In his book “Play-full Life: Slowing Down and Seeking Peace,” author Jaco Hamman describes the barriers to a playful life and also the spiritual benefits of becoming play-full in the whole of our lives, not just in brief snippets of recreation.
When I was young and single, people would tell me that when you marry, you don’t just marry the man but you marry his family as well. I didn’t believe it.
When you see a person on the street corner holding a cardboard sign, you are confronted with the housing crisis. Is there enough room in the shelter tonight? Is that person couch surfing with relatives?
When I was leading the young adult ministry at our church, I tried to convince all the 20-somethings to sit together in the front pews to provide good visibility for other young guests at worship.
