The first time I saw my father cry was in 1963. I was nine years old. We had gotten word the day before that my mother’s oldest sister had been murdered while working in her husband’s law office. A stranger came in off the street and killed her in a deeply brutal manner. It became news across the state for nearly a year. I remember stepping into my parent’s bedroom. My fatherâŠ
Tomorrow is the 10th anniversary of my fatherâs passing. I have felt the day approaching for a few weeks now. I have also been reflecting on why I feel it so poignantly. The truth is that we know a parent in a unique way, indeed, in a manner that differs even from that of our siblings. What we know is never really the person as they stand, fully themselves. We know themâŠ
I recently re-watched one of the most eye-opening programs on the 20th century, The Century of the Self (BBC 2002). It looks at the development of advertising, particularly the theories and work of Edward Bernays. Youâve seen his work, but you didnât know it. He was one of the pioneers of modern advertising as well as modern government propaganda. Particularly in the 1920âs, he played a key role in moving AmericaâŠ
In my childhood, it was not unusual to hear someone ask, âWho are your people?â It was a semi-polite, Southernism designed to elicit essential information about a personâs social background. The assumption was that you, at best, could only be an example of your âpeople.â It ignored the common individualism of the wider culture, preferring the more family or clan-centered existence of an older time. It was possible to be âgood peopleââŠ
This year, during the Covid-19 pandemic, Churches will be unable to gather in the usual manner for Pascha. This has happened before in a variety of places and circumstances. In the 1920’s, the Bolshevik’s were unleashing their persecutions. This wonderful account, from Butyrka Prison on Pascha of 1928, is a sober reminder that our “light momentary affliction” is a small thing. It also serves to remind us that the joy of PaschaâŠ
I was sitting in a Sunday School class, and was probably around eight or nine years old. I cannot remember what the Scripture was that day. However, the room was brought into a very serious state of mind as we were presented with something and were asked to sign it. I had never entered into a contract before, but had a sense that it was a very serious thing. The contract wasâŠ
Among the âdifficultâ sayings of Jesus is this: âIf anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Lk 14:26 Of course, the statement is so extreme that it is quickly recognized as an exaggeration. Jesus is not asking us to hate our family (or even in our ownâŠ
How is your marriage progressing? This simple question is a way of focusing our attention on right-thinking about progress and the Christian life. I posed the question to myself â I have been married now for 43 years. My first thought was, âWhat would âprogressâ in a marriage mean?â Do I love my wife more, or any less? What would more love look like? The truth of marriage is that progress isâŠ
When couples come to ministers to talk about their marriage ceremonies, ministers think itâs interesting to ask if they love one another. What a stupid question! How would they know? A Christian marriage isnât about whether youâre in love. Christian marriage is giving you the practice of fidelity over a lifetime in which you can look back upon the marriage and call it love. It is a hard discipline over many years.âŠ
Most of us would be satisfied to raise children who remain faithful believers. It is not always an easy thing and every parent who has such a child should rejoice constantly. There is no method to raise a child to be a saint, for God alone gives the grace that results in the mystery of such wonderful lives. However that may be, I am often struck in reading the writings of St.âŠ