by Greg | Dec 12, 2012 | Blog Posts
I read that line recently in an Advent devotional and it set me to thinking (yes, I know the mind can be dangerous when imagination takes over). Fear, doubt, and despair have a way of dominating our narratives, don’t they? It is easier to believe in destruction rather than life; annihilation rather than hope; condemnation rather than salvation. Bad news seems to be especially bad this time of year. When I was a teenager I remember attending an evangelistic meeting where the speaker worked the crowd over sowing seeds of doubt in our young, impressionable minds that perhaps our baptism wasn’t good enough; our confessions were not truthful enough; our salvation not sure enough. “Should I walk down this aisle, again?” Thanks be to God for both a solid heritage of biblical teaching and steadfast mentors who walked alongside me to keep me rooted in God’s eternal good news. Once saved barely saved? Hmph. God’s good news is deep and abiding and there is nothing tenacious about it. When the angels announced “Glory to God in the highest,” they earlier claimed, “I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people.” (Luke 2:10) The messengers of God proclaimed a great Gift and the response of those shepherds was not to fearfully berate others into receiving God’s generosity. The Gospel of Luke tells us that the Shepherd’s responded: “glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen…” (Luke 2:20) We know about bad news. We know about despair. It is an easy thing to believe in fear. We live it, see it and experience it...
by Greg | Nov 27, 2012 | Blog Posts
I have yet to make my trek up to the attic to fetch the 378 or so boxes of lights, ornaments, garland, glitter, sleigh, nativity sets and all other things pertaining to Christmas, but I best get started. Advent begins this Sunday. Our church traditionally marks the beginning of the Advent season with the Hanging of the Green service. Combining all the morning worship services we gather in our sanctuary to ritually decorate our church, consecrating all things over into the glory and celebration of the Christ Child. Notice I use the singular “Green” and not “Greens.” For years I had referred to this service where we “green” or decorate the church in worship as the Hanging of the Greens. Some member kindly chided me and said that the correct word is “green” not “greens.” “Greens,” he went on to say “refer to collards, mustards and turnips.” Personally I like greens and I will soon be picking up a mess for my New Years feast. I am embarrassed to admit that I was too late in planting them for my winter garden, which means I may lose status among my kin. Collards and mustards would make for fine decorations and certainly they would make our beautiful sanctuary unique. Back to the question: Is it green or greens? Like many answers we solicit in life, it depends on who you ask. Many churches in our area use both terms and according to the books I have on liturgy both are acceptable. So the answer to the question is “Green” and “Greens.” Here is the good news: it really doesn’t matter....
by Greg | Nov 7, 2012 | Blog Posts
…the election. Most of you dear readers probably share with me a sense of relief that we are through with nasty campaigning, partisan sniping, and divisive speech. At least I hope all of this is behind us. When I woke up the morning after the election I checked Facebook for messages and comments. I wish I had not. Folks really should think before making comments on the internet because there were some mean and ugly things being said about elected officials, neighbors, and friends who voted one way or another. Not all of the entries were political. I had friends and acquaintances who are dealing with sickness, death or loss of some other kind that a voting booth will not remedy. When I went to bed the night before the election it was long before any predictions or announcements were made on who would be our next president (or for that matter congressional representative, senator, etc.). I slept well. It was not because I was confident or apathetic. I just knew that when I went to bed I needed to follow Jesus and when I woke up I still needed to follow Jesus. Maybe I slept well out of ignorance. Maybe I slept well out of perspective knowing that each night many are dealing with personal challenges far more consequential than the outcome of election. It really does not matter. I went to bed, slept, and by the grace of God woke up to another day. I have to admit that I am sad for our nation, but not because of the winners and losers who campaigned for so...
by Greg | Oct 31, 2012 | Blog Posts
For the last two or so years (maybe not quite that long) we have housed a Phodopus, more commonly known as a “dwarf hamster,” or as Amy would call it, a rat. Aaron just called him “Bro.” Bro was his idea, which probably comes as no surprise. He bought this nocturnal rodent with money he was supposed to use for school lunches. Speaking of nocturnal, Bro loved to exercise on his wheel starting at, say, 10 PM and would stay at it until about 5 or 6 AM. Each night I was lulled into sleep with the turns of the rat wheel and each morning it was still spinning to greet me for the day. Then it happened. A day or so passed and I did not hear the wheel turn. Ah, a peaceful evening. By the next night I suggested to Aaron that it was quiet, unusually so, from Bro’s abode. Upon further inspection we both discovered that “Bro was no mo.” Since there seemed to be an unwritten but mutually assumed advanced directive that discouraged “extraordinary life-saving measures,” both boys (by now Clark was involved in the grieving process) commenced with funeral proceedings. This included the obligatory digging of the grave and preparing the headstone while accompanied by selections from the soundtrack “O Brother Where Art Thou.” If you think I am making any of this up I will gladly direct you to the gravesite where you can pay your respects to the earthly remains of the understated and brief life of Bro, a rodent of rodents. Perhaps Bro’s untimely passing – although I have no idea...
by Greg | Oct 24, 2012 | Blog Posts
This past week Amy and I slipped away for a few days to go camping in the Smoky Mountains. Leaves were in their full fall glory and everywhere we turned were reminders of autumnal beauty. We love the mountains even though we did not grow up in the mountains. Neither did our parents or their parents or their parents. We both hail from Middle Georgia environs surrounded by gentle, rolling hills where the closest thing to a mountain was the fire ant mounds. Yet each time we lose ourselves “up there in the hills” and huddle around a campfire we feel a certain reconnection with our past. Many of Amy’s best childhood memories are of family camping trips. My grandparents rarely left the dairy, but the two or so times I remember them traveling it was to head to the mountains. One time it included taking my brothers, sister and me to see those mountains for the first time. Every time we are up in mountain territory – in a tent, on a trail, a hotel room, or just riding along the winding highway – we feel a reconnection, a belonging as if we have always been there. Deep within every one of us is the need to belong. Young children take pride in belonging to their parents; adolescents carve out new identities and belong to their friends; emerging into adulthood there is the need to belong to independent ideas and convictions; and it is not uncommon that as we grow older in our adulthood we seek out our past recovering what and who we are and to whom...
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