Sometimes I regret naming this column "Candid." It forces me to be...you know...candid. So I must tell you I am nervous. Not terribly nervous. But a little nervous, or maybe medium nervous. Back in August when I was at 9,000 feet pondering what messages I might bring to the pulpit this fall, Read More...
“For a spiritual life is simply a life in which all that we do comes from the centre, where we are anchored in God. . . .” This line jumped off the page for me during my morning reflection time earlier this week.
One of best parts of serving among you for 30 years is story. I have had the privilege of learning your stories and sometimes I have even been a part of the story: officiating at your wedding, blessing your baby, weeping with you at a graveside. But in this first year as Read More...
Last week I gathered with family for a reunion, with colleagues for a conference, with neighbors for a homes association dinner, with church leaders at a Board planning retreat, and with friends at a small dinner party. At each gathering, I felt a mixture of belonging and discomfort. When shall I speak Read More...
Every fall I gather with a dozen or so Disciples of Christ pastors from across the country for a retreat/conference in Chicago. We banter about theological topics presented in formal papers and books, ponder ways to empower the churches we serve, share our own faith doubts and dreams. Most years I question Read More...
When she repeated the story, she would pause, turn her head and look out for a moment. I could tell that she was picturing his face and recalling his determination. “The pastor told Dad they didn’t have enough money to build the youth center, and Dad gave the money to make it happen.” Charlotte loved to tell the story. And then Dad’s story became her story.
Every fall I gather with a dozen or so Disciples of Christ pastors from across the country for a retreat/conference in Chicago. We banter about theological topics presented in formal papers and books, ponder ways to empower the churches we serve, share our own faith doubts and dreams. Most years I question Read More...
My rough estimate is that we have experienced a 350 percent increase in children worshipping! I’m comparing the last three Sundays to the same three Sunday’s last year. The energy, vitality, and warmth of the 9:01 service are palpable.
You were only 68 years old. Now you are almost 100. I arrived fresh out of graduate school, eager and excited but with a gnawing doubt in the back of my mind...would the church in America actually survive another generation? My favorite scripture was the call from the prophet Micah who demanded Read More...
I’m at St Benedict’s Monastery in Colorado. I longed to visit here for 32 years. When I heard Father Thomas Keating, the Abbot, present a guest lecture in graduate school I was mesmerized by his passionate approach to prayer and contemplation. Nestled in a wide valley surrounded by mountains, the monastery stretches the heart to inhale God’s boundless beauty.
Vacation begins with the word vacate. We begin by wrapping up at work or home and heading out of town. Set up a tent, take a flight, or get on a boat. Take leave. Get out.
Santa gave him his first guitar. We got him lessons. Then he wanted an electric guitar too. But after a few years he and his guitar teacher chose to fire each other. He sold both guitars. But as a freshman in high school, he picked up a friend's guitar and began to Read More...
My mom drove us home in the snow. My infant son was buckled into his car seat. I sat in the passenger seat looking out the front windshield and it was like entering the world for the first time. Everything looked different now that I was responsible for raising this precious life Read More...
Some days, I read a Wendell Berry poem as a prayer. This one particularly hooked me. I love imagining that the ladder we climb to heaven is heaven itself, even if our feet are on the bottom rung. And I am prompted to ask where in the middle of real life, this ladder is propped up.
We were walking on the beach in Guatemala. She seemed elated about using her own hands to build a Habitat for Humanity home for a family living in a leaky grass hut. Serving God seemed to be bringing her to life. So I told her that when we got home, she was welcome at the mid-week Bible study class for young adults or to join us in tutoring at-risk kids. “Oh, I don’t know about that...going to church more than once a week might be too much for me!”
