Conference celebrates Multicultural church
(PNS) More than 600 persons attended "A Racial Ethnic Multicultural Event" in Los Angeles, July 12-14, sponsored by the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.),..
(PNS) More than 600 persons attended "A Racial Ethnic Multicultural Event" in Los Angeles, July 12-14, sponsored by the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.),..
The stained-glass window -- an image of Jesus standing before a multi-ethnic crowd -- shone at night, glowing from within Fourth Avenue Church in Brooklyn, New York like a visible witness to the community https://fourthavenuepresbyterian.org/.
And when the 25-by-12 foot stained glass window catapulted out early on the morning of August 8, dropping two stories and shattering on the sidewalk below, not a single person was hit. It was about 6:15 a.m., the start of the morning waltz to work, on a busy block just a block and a half from a subway stop.
That sidewalk is "incredibly busy in the mornings," said Fourth Avenue's pastor, David Aja-Sigmon. "People should have been going to work. ... No one was hurt. Thank God."
The tornado smashed about 10 blocks of Brooklyn in a brief, intense spasm.
'In Search Of Mozart': Undoubtedly this film will be approached with much skepticism ('Haven't we already done 'Amadeus'?), and not a few yawns ('Can't we see this kind of documentary on the History Channel?'). And admittedly, the rewards for viewing this film are sublime, by Hollywood standards: no doomsday plot, no explosions, no chase scenes, no sex, no nudity, no foul language, no crude humor, no cute little animated figures, no computer-generated graphics, no battle panoramas, no sci-fi bedazzlement.
Just a calm, reasoned, brilliantly-presented biography of one extraordinary man, whom we will never meet. But we can't help but be affected by his remarkable legacy to us.
'The Bourne Ultimatum': Readers of the Robert Ludlum books will find the shaky-camera direction of Paul Greengrass to accurately reflect the confusion, chaos, sudden violence, and split-second plot twists of the popular spy thrillers. Jason Bourne (Matt Damon) is a lethal CIA agent who has gone rogue.
In 'No Reservations,' Kate Armstrong (Catherine Zeta-Jones) is a world-class cook. She's the executive chef of a swanky restaurant in New York City, where the patrons expect consistently superb quality. She closely supervises every dish that leaves the kitchen. She's a demanding taskmaster to her loyal crew, who remain not because they feel appreciated, particularly, but because they know they're with the best, and they enjoy being part of a top-notch operation.
'Rescue Dawn' is another scenario where the main character's world is turned upside down, but this is based on a true story, and it's every bit as grim and gritty as 'No Reservations' is refined and genteel.
In all these movies, love is not always patient or kind (I Corinthians 13:4), but it does provide the moments of clarity.
"Charlie Bartlett" (Anton Yelchin) is a clean-cut teenaged boy whose Mom (Hope Davis) is rich but Dad's in prison for tax evasion. He genuinely loves his spacey Mom, who seems to treat him with kid gloves, because his father's gone, but he acts out his anger with enough misbehavior to get him kicked out of all the expensive private schools. So he shows up at the local public school in tie and blazer, looking like a preppie, and very out of place.
(ENI) Rome-Geneva -- A new document authorized by Pope Benedict XVI restating Roman Catholic views that Protestant denominations are not churches 'in the proper sense' has been criticized as setting back the quest for Christian unity.
'An exclusive claim that identifies the Roman Catholic Church as the one church of Jesus Christ, as we read in the statement released today [10 July], goes against the spirit of our Christian calling towards oneness in Christ,' said the Rev. Setri Nyomi, general secretary of the Geneva-based World Alliance of Reformed Churches. The alliance groups together 214 churches with roots in the 16th century Protestant Reformation.
Nyomi made his comments in a letter to Cardinal Walter Kasper, the Vatican's top official for promoting Christian unity, following the release in Rome of the Vatican document, which sets down questions and answers about the doctrine of the church.
"I'd rather burn out than rust out."
"I've just accepted another interim pastorate. I'm flunking retirement."
"There's no such thing as retiring from the service of the Lord."
"Where do you find retirement in the Bible?"
Church leaders -- pastors, elders, educators, and others -- blurt such lines often. Some of their comments reflect a genuine love of ministry and the physical constitution to sustain it. Other times their words reveal a restless soul adrift on what, from their vantage point, looks like dead calm waters. The final questioning quote bespeaks the need to use a Bible concordance.
"I come from a wounded Iraq and a severely wounded Baghdad," said the man in black habit standing in front of some 130 silent church representatives from six continents gathered for a peace conference on the Middle East. "The situation in my country is tragic," the man continued. "We were promised freedom, but what we need today is freedom to have electricity, clean water, to satisfy the basic needs of life, to live without fear of being abducted."
The man addressing the World Council of Churches (WCC) June 18-20 international conference "Churches together for peace and justice in the Middle East" in Amman, Jordan, was Baghdad's Armenian Archbishop Avak Asadourian, primate of the Armenian Apostolic Church (See of Etchmiadzin) in Iraq.
Asadourian was in Amman representing the Council of Christian Church Leaders in Baghdad. Created in June last year, it is a body made up of 17 church leaders, including two patriarchs, from four Christian families: Catholic, Oriental and Eastern Orthodox and mainline Protestants. The Armenian primate is its general secretary.
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LOUISVILLE -- Presbyterian Bruce R. Kennedy, who led the expansion of Alaska Airlines as its chief executive before stepping down in 1991 to pursue humanitarian interests, was killed June 28 when the single-engine airplane he was piloting crashed in central Washington state.
The 68-year-old resident of Burien, Wash., was a longtime member and elder at John Knox Church in suburban Seattle, and served on the General Assembly Council (GAC) of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) from 1993-1999.
"While we are deeply saddened by the loss of someone we love and admire so much, we rejoice in the knowledge that Bruce is united with his Lord Jesus and take comfort in the fact that he died doing something he loved and in which he took great pleasure," his family, including his wife Karleen, said in a statement released by Alaska Airlines.
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For years, a church's declining membership concerned its leaders. Their solution -- a youth ministry. After several years, the church pastor acknowledged that the effort invested to attract young families was not working. The pastor's conclusion was simple and refreshing: "I have been telling the session that perhaps it's time to be who we are, a church for older adults."
The Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) has been facing similar changes and its response has paralleled that of many of its local churches. However, the General Assembly's Older Adult Ministries Office indicates the changes facing our denomination are a reflection of the nation as a whole.
The lengthening of the average human lifespan is one of the remarkable achievements of the 20th century. In 1900, life expectancy was only 47, but over those 100 years, it rose to 75 for men and 78 for women. The percentage of older persons in our global society is growing and expected to nearly double between 1990 and 2030.This trend is no less apparent here in the United States and is especially noticeable within our own congregations of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), where the average age of worshipers is 58 -- and rising. For every worshiper under the age of 25, there are more than six worshipers over the age of 65, which account for 35% of all Presbyterians.
-- Older Adult Ministries Office
For some persons, retiring from public work fulfills a nearly life-long dream. Retirement brings opportunities, perhaps long-delayed, for travel, relaxing, spending more quality time with friends and family, increasing one's involvement in church and community life, and indulging established interests while cultivating new ones. I recall a former parishioner saying to me, "I retired early, ten years ago, and haven't looked back once!" For persons so inclined, retirement often brings a new lease on life.
For others, retirement may prompt a different experience. Even if it brings a measure of excitement over opportunities for new experiences and relief from the daily grind of working life, retiring may also issue a deep sense of loss. Perhaps this feeling of loss involves the changes in one's former routines. The loss may derive from less contact with valued colleagues and work-related acquaintances. Maybe one's sense of loss revolves around modifications in lifestyle that are required for most people with a retirement income. Frequently, a sense of loss centers on uncertainty about one's identity, sense of purpose, and feelings of accomplishment that have long been linked with one's labors.
David McFarlane remembers the first Board of Pensions retirement seminar he attended. He was chairing the Committee on Ministry for Western New York Presbytery, and one of his responsibilities was to encourage pastors nearing retirement age to attend the seminars.
So it was suggested that he go himself -- the argument being something like, "You'll never convince anybody to go unless you go yourself."
McFarlane, then in his 40s, did go. He and his wife, Ann, walked into the room, sat down next to an older couple and struck up a conversation. The older man said he was intending to retire in about three weeks. He had not said a word to his session. The couple was living in a manse, owned no home and had no idea where they would live. They had made no plans.
"We were just stunned," McFarlane said. "My glory, three weeks away ... I said, 'No matter what else we do, we won't do that.' "
Now, after many years and after retiring themselves, the McFarlanes are among a number of "consultant couples" who speak at retirement seminars sponsored by the Board of Pensions. They don't offer advice; in other words, they don't tell people what to do. But they do walk people through questions they're likely to encounter as they consider retirement -- questions such as where to live and how to use their time when they step aside from the pulpit. They try to help them envision what, for them, retirement might be like.
Editor's Note: When O. Benjamin Sparks (no stranger to Outlook readers) retired as pastor of Second Church in Richmond, Va., last May, he and his wife, Annette, received a number of tributes and honors for their years of service. For almost two years, Ben served concurrently as Second Pres pastor and interim editor of the Outlook. At the church's celebration for the Sparkses, T. Hartley Hall IV of Asheville, N.C., offered this observation.
The Presbyterian Book of Order has always, and quite properly so, suggested that in the process of being installed into a new work, the minister should endure a brief "charge" appropriate to the nature of the new tasks that he/she is assuming. And for this to be properly done, the presbytery attempts to enlist the services of a colleague who is at least reasonably competent, and intelligent, and insightful, dedicated, articulate, even winsome and inspiring -- along with all sorts of other admirable ministerial traits. This we all know.
Today, however, marks the inauguration of a seismic liturgical shift in the long history of American Presbyterianism in that the Unseen Powers of Second Presbyterian Church in Richmond, Va., have determined that at the culmination of his ministry here, The Reverend Doctor O. Benjamin Sparks, having once received a charge, should now get a "discharge" from these labors; that Ben should hear a reasonably brief personal and/or theological word that could perhaps mollify his abandonment of a lifetime of familiar sabbatic labors, and then (possibly) encourage him as he sails off into uncharted waters, towards the terra incognita of ecclesial retirement.
Betty Coble remembers exactly when she preached for the first time at Arcadia Church, where she has been a member for more than 50 years.
It was Easter Sunday, 1978. She was teaching Sunday school to the adults, when someone suggested, "Why don't you come out and preach?"
The church had no pastor. No one was scheduled to preach.
"This was a little country church, and nobody wanted to come," she said. That day, "the church was full of people" -- a crowd of about 30, compared to the usual 17 or 20.
She prayed, "Lord, you've got to give me something." She went out and preached the Sunday school lesson she'd prepared, "and it went really well. You never know."
Today Coble, at 85, is Arcadia's commissioned lay pastor.
How many hundreds of guest talks I have given in the past sixty years, I do not know. I do know that a great variety of folk have introduced me to some audience. I may be justified, therefore, in putting down a few educated suggestions about the best ways to open the door between a speaker and the spoken-to.
1. Open the door; don't stand in it for long. It's a temptation, for some introducers to display their talent for mastery of the speaker's curriculum vitae. I was once introduced to a high school audience with a recitation of all five pages of a c.v. I had sent ahead. It took me ten minutes, I am sure, to win back the attention of those students after the boredom of that introduction. I later composed a one-paragraph summary of my biography for future use to my introducers.
Recently I read again a folk story about a couple whose home was set amidst unbelievably beautiful surroundings. Four sparkling streams irrigated the land and danced across the rocks and flowed over the sand. Orchards and vineyards spangled the terraces. A menagerie roamed virgin forests and meadows. Birds fluttered from tree to tree.
The water was not polluted by the slime from dirty factories and the refuse of urban sprawl. The air was not polluted with carbon monoxide exhaled from thousands of automobile exhausts. The ground was not cluttered with beer cans, pop bottles, Styrofoam containers, and thousands of other items of trash and junk.
Theirs was a garden paradise. But the story does not end with, "They lived happily ever after."
I asked 5,000 readers what questions they would ask of God. Their responses undid me.
Not a single question about church doctrine or the inerrancy of Scripture. Only one question in 1,600 referred to gay bishops. Less than 1% mentioned church controversies of any kind.
Instead, people asked basic, down-to-earth questions, such as "Who are you, God?" "Where do you live?" "Will I ever get married?" "Why did my wife die so young?" "Will we ever have peace in this world?" "Where is heaven?" "Why do children suffer?" "Will I ever find someone to love me?"
These questions came from Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Baptists, Methodists, Roman Catholics, and Lutherans. They came from laity and clergy.
by Diana Butler Bass. HarperSanFrancisco, 2006. ISBN 0-06-083694-6. Hb., 336 pp. $23.95.
When I read Christianity for the Rest of Us by Diana Butler Bass I recommended it to all of our clergy, gave a book review, led a session retreat on its contents and bought it for a few good folks whose book budgets were stretched. The Presbytery of Mid-Kentucky then paid for eleven people to hear Diana at Columbia Theological Seminary at the end of January. Both the book and Diana made an impression not only on me but on our good people!
Over a three-year period, Bass studied 50 old Protestant churches that were renewing themselves in mission and identity while exhibiting a new spiritual vibrancy, often coming from dire circumstances of decline and crises. Ten of these congregations became the key to her research. The churches were theologically moderate to liberal and none was the largest in town, but they did range in size from 35 to 2,500. They were Presbyterian, United Church of Christ, Methodist, Lutheran, and Episcopalian.
The following reflections will give away some key elements of the plot that the reader may wish to resist reading till completing the book!
The Boy-Who-Lived, and lived, and lived, and lived again, lives! After finishing the incredibly satisfying Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows I went back and counted. At least nine times in the seven books Harry Potter survived direct personal attempts of Voldemort to capture and kill him. Four of those attempts come in the final volume. What is more, in none of those attempts does Harry ever attempt to do anything more than defend himself. Harry Potter never intentionally kills anyone... though admittedly he is sometimes tempted.
Many readers around the world have been rather stunned by the unmistakably Christian elements in the final showdown between Harry Potter and Voldemort. I must admit that I was not. Thanks to the insights provided though the various books and essays of John Granger -- no relation to Hermione -- I've been expecting this for several years. (See bibliography below.) As usual Joanne Rowling gets at least an "E" (Exceeds Expectations) on her "N.E.W.T." volume -- and I'd say she gets and "O" (Outstanding).
WEST LAFAYETTE, IN -- Worship went show biz Thursday July 19 as Goose Chase, Inc. -- the highly inventive theatrical troupe that..
WEST LAFEYETTE, IN -- Their dramatic interpretations of Bible stories have been inspired throughout the 2007 Presbyterian Youth Triennium here, but Saturday..
WEST LAFAYETTE, IN - More than 4,000 Presbyterian teenagers from all over the country and around the world streamed into the Elliott..
WEST LAFAYETTE, IN - Nancy Sullivan is 86 years old. She is forced to use a walker to get around. She's 2,000..
WEST LAFAYETTE, IN - In song, sermon and drama, the 4,400 teenagers attending the 2007 Presbyterian Youth Triennium grappled Wednesday (July 18)..