In his travel classic, Blue Highways, William Least Heat-Moon recounts this tale:
A woman in Texas had told me that she often threatened to write a book about her family vacations. Her title: Zoom! The drama of their trips, she said, occurred on the inside of the windshield with one family crisis after another. Her husband drove a thousand miles, much of it with his right arm over the backseat to hold down one of the children. She said, "Our vacations take us."
The year 2003 marks the 20th anniversary of the reunion of the United Presbyterian Church, U.S.A. (UPCUSA) and the Presbyterian Church, U.S. (PCUS). The uniting Assembly was held in Atlanta in June 1983, amidst high hopes and expectations for the future.
I rise to speak to you this morning as an elder of the church but not for any other elder or the session. I speak as an individual, a Christian, and a Presbyterian in a faith tradition going back thousands of years. I speak because, at the beginning of the service this morning, a member of our congregation, without permission, carried the United States flag down the aisle and placed it beside the altar.
Note - The following sermon was sent by Denton as a response to the guest viewpoint "Of Flag and Faith."
At a recent meeting of the Presbytery of the James, the Peacemaking Committee had stricken from its report this commendation to all the churches — "pray for those fighting in the name of our government. Pray for their protection and safe return home;" in its place was a more generic motion to "pray for all engaged in combat and for their safe return home.
Like almost every pastor, my early years in preparing for ministry were somewhat chaotic, even a bit on the bipolar side, swinging from one theological pole to another — not unlike a steel sphere in a pinball machine — accompanied by swings of mood and attitude.
Start with a centrist Sunday-school theology from my home church; add some revivalist leanings from summer mission experience; then the shock of "higher criticism" in college religion courses, etc.
Ushered onstage with a glowing introduction at the 215th General Assembly in Denver in late May, Presbyterian Foundation chief executive officer Robert E. Leech asked the elders in the auditorium to remember the church with a gift in their wills. "Make it 10 percent — it's only money," Leech said.
Leech asked the ministers at the assembly to push their congregations to give even more generously. "Make it 20 percent — it's only money."
The recently concluded 215th General Assembly, convened in Denver, held to a steady course in this time of continuing division in the life of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). We are and remain deeply divided, and the annual meeting of the General Assembly frequently becomes the arena in which the contending forces do battle.
On May 14 it was reported that "a Virginia lawyer has accused a Presbyterian minister of heresy." The lawyer in question is Paul Rolf Jensen of Reston, Va. The minister in question is W. Robert Martin III, our pastor at the Warren Wilson church in Western North Carolina Presbytery.
As the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) debated once again in Denver what direction to take in the ongoing debate over ordination of non-celibate homosexuals, minister commissioner Fitz Neal stepped to the microphone with a reminder:
In other words, let’s wait. Not now."Justice delayed may be justice denied. But at the same time, decisions rushed are often decisions regretted."
"Wast Thou ordained, dear Father,/ To lose thy youth in peace,
and to achieve/ The silver livery of advisèd age/ And in thy reverence
and thy chair days . . . ." (II Henry VI. V.2. 45-8)
Because 94% of the land in Iowa is devoted to agriculture, the philosophy faculties of the various universities in that state regularly and predictably complain about so much attention paid to farm animals. Truth to tell, most Iowans do indeed put the horse before Descartes.
© Copyright 2025 The Presbyterian Outlook. All Rights Reserved. Privacy Statement. Website by Web Publisher PRO
