R. David Steele, 70, a widely known herald of hope and joy among Presbyterians in the PC(USA) died Tuesday, Aug. 28, of cancer in Sun City, Ariz.
A pastor, author, homespun philosopher, poet and humorist, he was known to many readers 
of The Outlook for his regular column "Tuesday Morning" written by him since February 1985.
Before proceeding, you need to read the strange little story in Numbers 15:32-36.
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This passage from the ancient world has an important connection with a prominent object in our present world, to wit: the moon. Now a family magazine should be careful about what it exposes. Therefore, at least one of the current uses of the term "moon" will remain decently covered by being uncovered here -- uncovered in the sense of being roundly undescribed.Â
Ted Wardlaw stood at the microphone, waiting his turn to speak during the 213th General Assembly's debate over removing the "fidelity and chastity" rules for church officers.
Following World War II, men flocked back to churches, bringing their families with them. In the 1950s and early '60s, 40 percent of Sunday congregations were male, and 3,000-5,000 men attended national gatherings at the Palmer House in Chicago. As late as 1991, 1,000 men attended a gathering in Louisville.
So they took branches of palm trees
and went out to meet him,
crying, "Hosanna!"
-- John 12:13
"You academicians need to draw in religious leaders," stated the strong Muslim politician Naledi Pandor as she addressed the International Academy of Practical Theology in Stellenbosch, South Africa, on April 6.
In his report to commissioners given at the beginning of the 213th General Assembly, outgoing Moderator Syngman Rhee fervently called for "a more excellent way," a way based on love and mutual forbearance as set forth by the Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians.
The Library of Congress and Montpelier, Va., are holding 250th birthday celebrations this year for James Madison, fourth President of the United States. Although not as well-known as more deistic celebrities Washington and Jefferson, the Virginian deserves attention as the chief architect of the Constitution and Bill of Rights of the new United States of America.
What has been going around seems this year to be coming around -- and with a vengeance. Given the so-called "Confessing Church Movement," a plethora of overtures and more deeply drawn lines of controversy, it is clear that the General Assembly will once again be faced with the question of homosexual ordination.
Nobody really knows exactly what the Native American word "Neshaminy" means. It was the name of a creek in Bucks County, Pa., after which William Tennent named a Presbyterian church in 1726. The congregation, now Neshaminy-Warwick, celebrates its 275th anniversary during this calendar year.
Two overtures before this year's General Assembly callfor the appointment of a theological commission assigned with charting a new path beyond the present impasse regarding homosexuality. The intense feelings and widely divergent perspectives on this issue demonstrate both the need for such a new path and the challenges standing in its way.
My friends -- both of them -- have just read Evelyn Waugh's weird little short story, "The Man Who Liked Dickens" with the hope of understanding my latter day enthusiasm. Although I have absolutely no desire to become any kind of expert on Dickens' 14 great novels, I find, to my surprise, that I enjoy immensely an hour a day in his company.
I don't tell many people I quarterbacked my high school football team because I do not like the incredulous look that appears on their faces just before they laugh out loud. However, there are a few living witnesses, albeit with fading memories, who could testify to the fact that I never received the athletic glory I so richly deserved.
In the previous article, we traced our Reformed theological roots concerning the future. In understanding what we believe, it is often helpful to contrast our beliefs with those of a differing view. One such view is called dispensational premillenarianism.
It is no wonder that few Presbyterians know exactly what our church believes about the end of the world. The issue is complicated and there is no clear consensus within our denomination. It has also been 20 years since our denomination has spoken about these matters.
Through the years, I have said it before Presbyterian churches and governing bodies, I have written it in Presbyterian publications and I continue to believe that the ordained Presbyterian pastor is the front line, the cutting edge of our Presbyterian witness to the gospel of Jesus Christ.
In the May 14 Outlook William Stacy Johnson presents a very helpful and learned reminder that the situation facing today's PC(USA) is very different from that which confronted the German church in the 1930's. Precisely because of those differences I would argue that any reasonable assessment of the contemporary confessing movement ought to have its primary focus on events taking place in 2001 rather than in 1934.
So far as I can remember, no young preacher has ever asked me for advice. This is a real shame because I have had spectacular success in the creation and implementation of bad ideas. A whole preaching generation could be improved by learning from me what to avoid.
Most scholars agree that after Paul's painful second visit to the Corinthians, during which he was bitterly attacked by someone about something, he left to cool off, then decided not to pay another visit right away and wrote a letter instead, the so-called letter of tears that is either lost or preserved only in fragments in what we now call second Corinthians.
The Christian faith -- certainly as we know it in the Reformed tradition -- is a faith of the community. While we make our individual professions of faith, we do so as we join the company of the faithful, the church of Jesus Christ. Parents may be the primary faith educators of their children, but it is the congregation that promises to guide and nurture the child by "word and deed, with love and prayer, encouraging the child to know and follow Christ and to be a faithful member of Christ's church."
Serious Christian education requires that we not simply teach the Bible, but that our understanding of the text always be open to refinement. For 40 years I taught my Middle Eastern students, "Keep your exegetical conclusions tentatively final." They have to be final in the sense that, as a disciple of Jesus Christ, I must live out my discipleship today. Obedience to my Lord cannot wait for me to read one more technical article in New Testament studies.
Easter is the great day for the church of Jesus Christ. There would be no gospel, no faith, no hope without the resurrection. Everything depends on God's raising Jesus from the dead, Jesus' ascension, his sitting at the right hand of the Father, his promised coming again. His resurrection is the guarantee of our own, and the gift of life after death to all to whom God chooses to give it.
That's the text.
The occasion? Last week I was kicked out of Valley Hospice. It wasn't for moral turpitude or anything like that. I doubt if I will be brought before any presbytery committee or take up the PJC's precious time. It simply was the halfway point in their six-month program and I was too healthy. I don't really need the kind of crisis care in which they specialize. So why not save the last three months for the days I need them.
The minister's primary duty -- and the session's -- is to feed and protect the flock over which God, through the actions of the church, has placed them. One of the sad aspects of the church's wars in recent years has been the spectacle of the people of God in the pew being drawn willy-nilly into battles that they really don't need to be a part of.
Before retiring I had the privilege of being the minister of Dornoch Cathedral in the far north of Scotland. Within a few miles of Dornoch and its magnificent mediaeval cathedral is Skibo Castle, which Andrew Carnegie not only built, but in which he spent the happiest years of his life. He called Skibo his "Heaven on Earth."
After only one month of preaching, my senior elder took me aside and said, "Charles, we think we are going to like you a lot, but your sermons are going right over our heads. You should remember that the Lord said, 'Feed my sheep' not my giraffe." I almost responded that I knew about sheep, but I had received no instructions about grubs.Â
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