“What I Did on My Winter Vacation”
In the fall of 1923, at the age of 40, Franz Kafka (1883-1924), who never married or had children, was walking in Stieglitz Park in Berlin when he met a girl who was crying because she had lost her favorite doll.
Making it Personnel
Having strung together the trio of words church Personnel Committee, please don’t hang up on me. Depending on your history with Personnel Committees – performance reviews, action plans, annual reviews, grievances and such – just the sight of the words may have triggered a knot in your stomach or a latent resentment. I get it. But, as I asked at the outset of this paragraph, please hang in there with me for a few minutes.
God Chose Maria
That Maria had endeared herself to so many was evidence by the line in which Jennie and I stood during the previous evening’s visitation that wound its way from where Maria lay in the church’s original sanctuary, into the hallway, and all the way down to Fellowship Hall. People of all ages and abilities, including many of Maria’s classmates in wheelchairs, waited thirty minutes and more to pay their respects.
I wrote in my journal the next morning, “A lot of love in there last night.”
The Gospel According to Manure
And how much fertilizer do partridges, turtledoves, French hens, calling birds, geese, swans and cows provide over a 12-day period?Total manure production is 16,173.7 pounds. (Dean Miner)
Not According to Script
Let me just say this: Things don't always go according to script in our lives. Did 2023 go according to script for you? Do you think 2024 will? Not a chance. But fear not, because God can redeem things that aren’t going according to script. That includes not only Christmas pageants, but lives: including your life and mine. And worlds: this one.
Evergreen
We’re a long way from home this Advent, but thanks to her homemaking touch Jennie went to Lexington and got us a Christmas to go, a carry out order of just enough red, green, gold and silver memorabilia to do what this season does: awaken our memory of precious people and places.
Hope on Four Legs
For the last weeks of her life, Mom lived with my sister and her husband. When Hospice was called, they brought a bed and set it up in the living room. And next to the bed was placed the set of stairs that Hope could ascend so as to lie next to my mother.
Mom’s other constant companion in those final weeks was her four-year-old great-grandson, Elijah. It was not lost on me that Mom’s dearest companions in her final days were a boy whose name means “The Lord is God” and a dog named Hope.
A Live Wire
“When I saw that, I just shook my head. I knew we had a live wire.”
This piece was recently published digitally in the monthly newsletter of our Disciples’ Proclamation Project, an outstanding resource for preachers. Kudos to my colleague, Rev. Lee Hull Moses for curating the site.
It’s All Gravy
I realize I was in the presence of one who realized life while he lived it. Clocks ticking, sunflowers, food and coffee, hot baths, sleeping and waking up. I have no doubt Jack fully appreciated each one. For him, the last years of his life, every last day, was gravy.
1 Out of 588
Coolwater Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), the congregation Jennie and I founded in 2002, celebrated its final worship service last Sunday. I spent last Friday afternoon reflecting on the trajectory of Coolwater’s birth and growth, the obstacles we overcame, and the congregation’s steadfast faithfulness and perseverance since our call to Lexington nine years ago.
What provided me the consolation I needed in the days leading up to Coolwater’s final Sunday was remembering some of the stories behind those names.
Here’s just one…
Father and Son
Each year on the day of my birth and Dad’s death, September 26, I remember his visit, visage, and affirmation and receive them with gratitude for the gift they were … and still are.
A Memorial Service for the Ages
Jennie’s aunt and uncle died within 10 months of each other. She lived to be 102; he to 101. They were remarkable people who requested a joint memorial service at which I preached last week. Their instructions: “We really want the focus to be on worship and not on us. A brief meditation on the love of God is our preference. Psalm 103 is a good reference.” The church was full. It was a memorial service for the ages (of 101 and 102). One of the honors of my life.
“You’re Invited”
Several years after that first Sunday service in Arizona, one of our roadside signs was stolen. The gall! We got together. How do we get the word out about Coolwater Christian Church? We made a grocery list of every publicity-generating thing we could imagine. That’s when Russ Garrett, an eighty-year-old cowboy, raised his hand and said, “This is all well and good, but I’m the sign for Coolwater. You’re the sign for Coolwater. If the way we live our lives doesn’t point beyond ourselves to God and we don’t think enough of our church to invite others to be part of it then we’re wasting money on road signs and postcards.”
Discernment: A Primer
We’re embarking on a season of discernment in the congregation I’m serving as Interim Lead Pastor. There is a difference between discerning and merely deciding. To decide is human, but to discern is divine.
The Orchid Show
On a trip to Chicago in March, Jennie and I received complimentary tickets to The Orchid Show at the Chicago Botanic Garden. The promotional postcard promised exhibits featuring “more than 10,000 stunning orchids and other tropical plants.”
I’m a dummy when it comes to flora and fauna. I had to look up the words horticulture and floriculture as I was writing this to know what they mean. The definitions confirmed I am ignorant of both.
The Easter Yawn
Jennie and I worshipped on Easter Sunday in the midst of a full congregation adorned in colorful Easter morning attire. All the generations were present. The beauty of the day outdoors was matched by the splendor of the sanctuary’s décor. The scent and sight of lilies on the chancel steps rendered creation’s praise. The lay leader read the Easter scripture with verve. The choir sang with gusto. The preacher preached a word/Word that set my pen to scribbling memorable lines and insights. Everything was Day of Resurrection fine, I’m telling you … except for the Easter Yawn.
"Living Out the Verbs of Our Lives: Transitioning into Retirement"
I retired last year after forty years of congregational ministry.
Colleagues asked, "What made you decide it was time?" "What's it like?"
I answer, "It's a transition. I'm figuring it out as I go."
Here is my six-month report of discerning my call to the next chapter of my life.
The Parable of the Flag Poles
I did a double take and made a U-turn on one of Jennie and my road trips (I’ve dubbed them “retirement junkets”). I wanted to take a second look at something I’d seen out of the corner of my eye in passing. A church had two large flagpoles facing the highway on which the United States flag and the Christian flag fluttered side-by-side fifteen feet or so above the parking lot … Read on for a meditation on the relationship between church and state.
A Rite of Passage Remembered
Our two oldest grandchildren from Arizona are spending ten days with their grandparents this month. Both have enjoyed being Cub Scouts. Here is a piece I wrote when their father, our son Will, was a scout. The piece was published in Scouting magazine in their October 1996 issue.