“One shall not live by bread alone but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” ‘Tis a truism for the ages. But does that dictum actually say, “every” word? If so, then how might the humble teaching elder possibly serve one’s spiritually hungry table guests every word of the Lord?
When the Outlook’s full-time associate editor Martha Skelton retired last January, we hired Mike Jennings to a half-time position, tasking him to take over most, but not all, of her duties.
It wasn’t easy surviving the 1960s. Not only did the nation heave after the assassinations of JFK, RFK and MLK. Not only did we convulse over our struggle to integrate.
If, as Charles Finney claimed, the devils of hell rejoice when the Presbyterian General Assembly is in session, do they rejoice doubly when other Presbyterians gather near the site of the previous assembly? The upcoming, two-day, Minneapolis gathering called by Fellowship PC(USA) has generated about 2,000 registrations, mostly from Presbyterians disheartened by recent constitutional changes that signal to them a turn toward hell. As they gather the devils have reason to hope and much to fear.
When the press release from Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary announced last Dec. 11 that Roger Nicole had been called home to heaven a day after his 95th birthday, I breathed a sigh of sadness.
As editor of a magazine that speaks to the whole church, I feel compelled to write to Presbyterian friends in particular groupings of conviction — while allowing the rest to eavesdrop. In the last two editions, I addressed those celebrating and those grieving the adoption of Amendment 10-A. In this final correspondence, I write to those caught somewhere in the middle.
As editor of a magazine that speaks to the whole church, I feel compelled to write to Presbyterian friends in particular groupings of conviction — while allowing others to eavesdrop. Last time I addressed those celebrating the adoption of Amendment 10-A. This time, I write to those grieving the amendment’s adoption. In the next edition, I will address those who stand somewhere in the middle.
As editor of a magazine that speaks to the whole church, I feel compelled to talk with Presbyterian friends in particular groupings of conviction – while allowing the rest to overhear the conversation. I begin with those celebrating the adoption of Amendment 10-A. In the next issue, I’ll write to those grieving its adoption. Finally, I’ll address those who stand in the middle.
Former President George W. Bush seldom carried crowds with the force of his oratory. He was known for mangling the language, for twisting up his words, for blurting countless “Bushisms,” as they were dubbed, and then following with an ah-shucks, self-deprecating grin and shrug.
Symbol or substance? Church leaders transact so much business in the language of metaphor and symbol that they can mistake it for reality. When Pastor Trina Zelle of Tempe, Arizona, submitted to the 2010 PC(USA) General Assembly a commissioners’ resolution regarding her state’s Senate Bill 1070, she did not make such a mistake. She chose substance over symbol.
Of all the Christians who will gather for Easter worship services the world over, we Presbyterians have just a slightly greater need to hear about the resurrection.
Tribes are good. Whether we speak of them literally – like Cherokee and Navajo – or figuratively – like family, prayer group, congregation, labor union, alumni club, softball team, or political party – they provide us circles of friendship, of belonging, of learning. Tribes teach community values and reinforce them via tribal rituals.
My grandkids have headed down our snow-covered driveway just in time for me to pull together this Christmastide editorial you will read in late January about summertime with children.
If the 1970s were the “Me Generation“ years and the 80s called “The Decade of Greed,” and the 90s the “Decade of dot.coms,” what about the 00s – what BBC dubbed the “noughties”? What lies ahead for people of faith as they do mission in the ensuing twenty-teens?
As 2010 passes the baton to 2011, we take a few moments to look back, to wring our hands over the year’s disappointments, to lift holy hands in praise for the year’s triumphs.
In all due respect to John Buchanan, my Presbyterian ministerial and editorial-writing colleague serving in the Windy City, when I hear the name Ernie Banks, I don’t immediately think of the shortstop and first baseman known as “Mr. Cub.” Sure, that Banks was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 1977.
