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.
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."
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."
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:
"Justice delayed may be justice denied. But at the same time, decisions rushed are often decisions regretted."
We flatter ourselves. No, it is true. Even the staunchest Calvinist among us sometimes thinks that we are in a mess so great that we will never get out of it. Name the issue and you will find voices that say, Woe is ours as Presbyterians in the U.S.A.!
Every generation faces this reality. While some issues truly are landmarks, issues of importance confront each of us in our own way. So it is also true that the issues that divide us today matter to us and to those that come after us. But let us not flatter ourselves too much. Our ancestors confronted this reality, and so will our descendants.
"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.
Can Muslims and Christians seriously engage with each other in these troubled times in creative, nonviolent ways? I am a witness to a community of 30 Christian and Muslim scholars who in early April, just beyond the sound of rockets and big guns, gave a resounding "yes" in answer to that question. We met and talked about our sacred Scriptures and how we view and interpret them. This was the second occasion for such an international gathering.
Because we must eat in order to live, a considerable part of our life is spent at table.Apparently, our first parents, Adam and Eve, were vegetarians (Gen. 1:30) until they took a big bite of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (2:17).In any case, food customs are deeply embedded in every culture today, and food preferences identify many ethnic groups.
For the last 17 years it has been my privilege to work closely with, and indeed to be partially "on loan," first to the diocese of Cyprus and the Gulf, part of the Church of England, now to a diocese of the American Episcopal Church. At a recent diocesan yearly convention that I attended, there was an extended debate on (what else?) the Trinity, inclusive language, the authority of Scripture and the ordination of non-celibate homosexuals. I really couldn’t believe it — the sense of deja-vu was so strong I could taste it.
