I’m a regular. If Fullsteam Brewery were casting a remake of Cheers, I’d be in the running for the role of Norm. I don’t drink nearly as much as he did, but when I walk in, they know me. And I love it. I’m also a regular at my church. My friend, Jimmy – AKA…
The text today was Isaiah 65:17-25 and Ginger’s sermon ran the gardens from Eden to Woodstock. Here’s where it all took me. The sermon was a mash up of Isaiah and Joni’s words:how looking back can tell us where we’re going;that the good old days were best is prophetically absurd —nostalgia sets our cataracts to…
In the Grand Scheme of It All,truth rides in on small things –the way a shooting stardefines the Universein a fleeting gestureof magnificent futility. In the Giant Medical Center,we stood beside the bed,the small room stuffedwith relatives and machines,neither saying muchof anything. We came bearing Cupcakes:chocolate, at his wife’s request –our small gesture ofconfectionery compassion.My…
The lectionary it seems uses the last few weeks before Advent to dish out some difficult passages. This morning’s came from Haggai. The children sang, “If you’re happy clap your hands”and Ginger gave a nod to “Glory Days,”We sang “Wayfaring Stranger” with piano – not a bandand then wrestled with the prophet’s turn of phrase…
This is the week of found poetry for me, or perhaps I should call it delivered poetry: words given to me. Here’s a comment from my friend, Mitch, on one of my recent blog posts. hey milt: up above, you wrote “the chards of the past” . . . just wanted to point out that…
Somewhere in the middle of my morning, Ginger sent me this text: sitting outside the doc listening to old school jazz watching the rain fall on the maroon and amber leaves and wishing we were together I couldn’t help but hear the poem already at work, so I set out to find it. Here’s what…
Some years ago, Ginger and I were walking along the sidewalk in Davis Square in Somerville, Mass. when we passed a homeless man sitting in a doorway. Just as we drew even with him, he barked, “Change!” loudly enough for the people across the street to hear him. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any,” Ginger…
The text today told the story of Jesus’ encounter with Zacchaeus. And here’s where the story took me. When Zacchaeus hit the streets, he had to assumehe was down the list of who folks hoped to see;he might have done much better had he showed up in costume,but for all his faults, he had no…
This week’s parable was the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector who came to pray (Luke 18:9-14). I was struck, in the sermon, by the idea that both men missed the mark by clinging so tightly to their view of the world, rather than praying for eyes to see what God might have…
The text today was the parable of the unjust judge (Luke 18:1-8). The story is not an easy one. One of the main things I took away from this morning was a big part of the call to live like Jesus lies in our persistence. The widow just wouldn’t give up until she got justice….