Stories and tales from a guitar-picking writer, theologian, speaker, blogger and entertainer. From small town quirks to the bizarre realities of family, whacky church life and slightly damaged kinfolk, insights from a reluctant son of the South takes you along. Never know where it’ll end up but it’s sure to be worth the trip.
Waiting out the firestorm while America goes for its kerosene cans and lighters. Some random thoughts: It is striking to see the overwhelming need to comment about a senseless murder. We’ve all become content providers and there are no consumers left to think about each others’ thoughts. The one thing about tragic and unexpected loss is that the more you say to the sufferer the worse you make it. The less you say, the wiser you appear. If you are silent, you are kept from stupidity. If you post your opinions about it your foolishness can live eternally. Much is … Continue reading Reaping the Whirlwind
A friend who has devoted her adult life to global poverty texted me this week. Discouragement, confusion, chaos is everywhere. A sense of paranoia and ruthless cruelty has settled in our capital, and now the enemies of America are apparently other Americans. I sent these words to her amid the distress and I share them with you if you need them. ———————————————————————————— There’s a famous story that Robert Bly tells about Carl Jung who, whenever a friend reported enthusiastically, ‘I have just been promoted!’ Jung would say, ‘I’m very sorry to hear that; but if we all stick together, I … Continue reading Faith is Courage in Spite of …
In 1963, I was in the third grade. We moved from my hometown in North Carolina to Clarksville, Tennessee. We lived near Fort Campbell, Kentucky. Fort Campbell is home of the “Screaming Eagles” of the 101st Airborne –-the Army’s only Air Assault Division. World War II was still in living memory all around us, and we had books and toys to reflect it—plastic toy soldiers, cap guns, and I think I remember having a toy mortar, of all things. We re-enacted D-Day and Iwo Jima, Wake Island, Pearl Harbor and El Alamein. The 101st Airborne was famous: they were parachuted … Continue reading June 6, 1944
Sometime I will have to gather my thoughts about this breathtaking revolution that has been forced on us in the larger context. Mine is one local congregation of people with whom I’ve been for twenty-seven years come July. Things always change, but this one has been especially momentous. Others have had enough to say, but I’ve observed a few little beams of light in the dark. Consider these:
Churches forced to innovate everything we do. How appropriate that Holy Week would be the big test. And the people are still there. Turns out that little rhyme we did with our hands as a kid had something to it. “Here’s the church, here’s the steeple,” (fingers interlocked and hands folded, index fingers joined in a spire.“Open the door,”and you’d unfold your hands and wiggle your fingers, “and there’s the people.”
I see a lot of cooperation, humility and mercy down here on the ground level.
Leaders rise up in the worst of times. Anybody can lead in good times. Only in the crises can you tell the difference.
Imagine that Christianity in a short while has had to watch the burning down of the Cathedral of Notre Dame and Vatican Square empty except for a blind man singing “Amazing Grace” on Easter Sunday after the Pope stood there alone. But people sang “Amazing Grace” all over the world Sunday.
People sewing, volunteering, sacrificing and praying harder than usual. Constant cheering and appreciation for our medical workers. I often pray when I go to a hospital (I miss that right now), “Lord, we know that you’ve given us wisdom and medical knowledge so that these doctors, nurses and workers do every day and routinely what Jesus did miraculously.” Healthcare is a daily miracle. We just appreciate it more right now.
Being away from people we love makes us yearn for their presence and anticipate the first time we can see one another. You can feel it all the way into prayer.
The earth has been given a sabbath of human activity. Sea turtles in India are flourishing during our quarantine, and people can see the Himalayas from a hundred miles away for the first time in years. We ought to remember what we’ve learned.
NRS Luke 9: 44 “Let these words sink into your ears: The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into human hands.” 45 But they did not understand this saying; its meaning was concealed from them, so that they could not perceive it. And they were afraid to ask him about this saying. 46 An argument arose among them as to which one of them was the greatest. 47 But Jesus, aware of their inner thoughts, took a little child and put it by his side, 48 and said to them, “Whoever welcomes this child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me; for the least among all of you is the greatest.”
This is the final message in my series on “Better Reasons to Believe” and it is this: “because we are invited to serve.” That sounds strange, I admit. “The chance to sacrifice what I want so someone else can have it” doesn’t top most people’s lists of what matters the most.
The poor lieutenant governor of Texas this past week, in a moment of bravery, said, “We grandparents need to risk sacrificing our lives for the economic futures of our grandchildren, even if we die.” The firestorm was predictable. Whatever his intentions, a lot of people said, “After you, sir.”
But how do we sacrifice in this moment of global pandemic? And will that be enough? It’s a real question. But not a new one.
This Bible story happened in the aftermath of the confession at Caesarea Philippi, when
Gary Furr
Peter acknowledged that Jesus is the Messiah, and then followed the Transfiguration, when three of the disciples went with Jesus to the top of the mountain and saw a vision of Jesus radiant with the glory of God and a mysterious voice from heaven said, “This is my beloved son”
After this astounding spiritual experience, though, they went back down the mountain and the next day everything started to go wrong. First, the disciples, giddy with their calling to go forth try to help, try to help a poor child who suffered from convulsions and the father came to Jesus, saying in essence, “Your disciples tried, but they couldn’t help.” Continue reading “The Invitation to Serve”
The Flatpickin' Pilgrim's Progress 