Life In Greencastle

Congratulations to all of you at home enjoying your second snow day in a row. Or, maybe I should put that another way. My prayers are with you. Snow days are wonderful gifts, and there's a reason why Barbara Brown Taylor speaks of them as our last cultural moment of collective sabbath.  When the call from the school comes, parents and children are released to spend a day enjoying good books, playing out in the snow, and watching a movie or two together.  An openness of heart proceeds from the openness in the schedule.  Besides, there's nothing better than the sights and sounds of sledding, boots by the entry-way and gloves and hats defrosting on the heating vents. But, the second snow day can be a bit more ... shall we say, challenging. On the second day, things can become a bit more testy.  All that freedom and unstructured play can turn into a lit bit of a mad house.  You can't help but feel like Carol Burnett playing Miss Hannigan in Annie .  Meanwhile, dishes

"Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the world.  He is the reflection of God's glory and the exact imprint of God's very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word." - Hebrews 1:1-3 There's a lot going on this time of year.  Am I right?  A lot. Traveling through December is the emotional equivalent of strapping yourself into a rollercoaster at Holiday World.  You're bound to ride the highest highs and feel your stomach drop as you plunge to the depths.  You'll get whiplashed by the twists and turns of the family drama.  All the while, the marketers will be trying to grab your attention through any means possible:  radio, internet, your Instagram feed.  Today, I heard a report about Mattel's efforts to push out the Baby Yoda plush toy just in time for Christmas.  For $25 you c

It’s cold.   As in the kind that slaps you in the face when you walk outside, cold. I’m not sure the Semitic people experienced cold like we do – those polar surges in the Midwest like the one this week.   But they must have faced some of it for why else would the Psalmist cry out, “before such cold, who can stand?” (Ps. 147).   I’ve said this before, but such cold takes a lot out of you.   The seemingly effortless activities the rest of the year become true labors.   For those of us with cars outside, windows need to be defrosted.   And any trip to run an errand includes getting slapped all over again by that cold. It’s no wonder half of my congregation goes south for the winter. But, maybe there is some value to the struggle after all.   Maybe it puts us in the right frame of mind to receive the Advent news.   Today’s readings are for those who are struggling.   They are for the ones who are pushing through and not getting anywhere.   They’re readings for the guy

If you haven't yet seen " It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood ," the new biopic about Mr. Rogers, do yourself a favor and go.  If for nothing else, do it for the incredibly powerful moment shared between actors Tom Hanks and Matthew Rhys in a little apartment about halfway into the movie.   Hanks, who does a phenomenal job of capturing Mr. Rogers' poise and stillness, is being interviewed by Rhys, an investigative journalist named Lloyd Vogel who writes for Esquire magazine.  Vogel is a man known for his serious temperament, and he is trying desperately to crack Mr. Rogers as an interview subject.  He comes at Mr. Rogers with question after question:  how he deals with the stardom, where he goes to unwind when things build up, who is he when he isn't "Mr. Rogers."  And all the while Mr. Rogers is similarly studying Vogel.   The scene shifts as Mr. Rogers opens up his suitcase to reveal King Friday and Daniel Striped Tiger. Channeling the

For the Christian, Advent is about answering God's call and responding to God's movements in the world.  The stories leading up to Jesus' birth prove this.  Over and over again, God moves in such a way as to illicit a response, to awaken, and to call to action. Zechariah is summonsed by God in the heart of the Temple to step into a holy role of being a father, and not just any father - the father of a prophet. Likewise, Mary and Joseph and Elizabeth all in their turn, are called to respond to God's good news entering the world.  Each of them is shocked in their own way, but no matter.  God simply announces and invites.  Each can refuse.  Each can turn his or her back upon God's call, but that won't change the plan.  God will raise up instruments and vessels and servants to make sure that this work is done, and it won't be long before the shepherds and the magi join the team. All of this has me thinking of service in this season leading up to Christmas.

"Do you know where St. Nicholas was born?" Elise asked from the other room. I was reading the tailend of a New Yorker article, but had no trouble giving my answer.  "Turkey." Wyatt guessed Finland. "You're right, dad," Elise said. Although, to be totally accurate, I should have said somewhere near Myra, a provincial capital in Asia Minor in the fourth century. We don't know much about St. Nick, not much of the real details about his life and ministry.  Mostly what we have now is the stuff of legend, the things that floated their way up through the years from the land of the Mediterrenean all the way up to the North Pole.  St. Nicholas was most famous for engaging in pivotal debates about the true nature of Jesus, but that's not the stuff that has won him fame through the years.  The stuff that has hung on and grown over years are the things he did for the young and for the vulnerable. Three daughters were facing the prospect of

God must have a sense of humor.   For the past few days, I’ve mildly fretted over a mid-week opportunity for prayer at our church.   I’ve decided to practice some Lectio Divina as part of an Advent discipline, and I extended the offer to my church and others in the community.   I set the practice for Wednesdays.   So, I have been thinking this week how best to prepare our parlor for some quiet reflection and prayer.   I wanted to have the furniture arranged just so, and I tinkered with lights for a bit on Tuesday. No matter.   On Wednesday, several work vehicles showed up in our church parking lot.   Roofers.   We’ve been trying to get the roof of our sanctuary redone before winter truly sets in, and last week they delivered all the materials.   But, with Thanksgiving, they didn’t get around to the actual work until this week.   Until Wednesday. So, there a few of us sat in the parlor yesterday, looking to take in the words of Isaiah 11:1-9 , and the great vision

I am very grateful this morning for the hard work and loving commitment of the DePauw Chamber Singers and St. Andrew’s congregation.  Together, they created an opportunity for worship last night in the homey sanctuary on Seminary Street, a festival of “Lessons and Carols” at the end of a long day. I made Elise come along with me for the service, bribing her with some hot chocolate from McDonald’s.  So at 6:50 pm, there the two of us sat near the back of St. Andrew’s sanctuary, the service bulletin sitting beside me, the two of us with our hands cupped around our hot chocolate, silently sitting.  Five minutes later, Albrecht, the organist at St. Andrew’s began to play in the loft, the reverential tones of medieval Christmas hymns reverberating off wood and stone.  By the start of the service, the lights were slightly dimmed and the candles flickered up on the chancel and in the windows.  A young girl stepped forward holding a candle, encouraged by her mother to take her place. 

"A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse,      and a branch shall grow out of his roots. The spirit of the  Lord  shall rest on him,      the spirit of wisdom and understanding,      the spirit of counsel and might,      the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the  Lord .   His delight shall be in the fear of the  Lord ." - Isaiah 11:1-3 Tree stumps are pernicious in so many ways.  When we moved into our current home, we did so as the recipients of several trees, including a massive chestnut tree that stood just outside an older out-building we first used as a garage.  The out-building needed to come down and it seemed logical for the chestnut tree to come down with it.  It's majestic size was crowding out a view to the back part of our property, and each season it would drop a sizeable amount of burs on the ground.  The decision to take it down seemed logical, but I failed to consider the difficulties I was leaving for myself. For one thing, the tree stump