One of my most meaningful adventures was spending a week in Salisbury Cathedral in England. My host was the coordinator for the children’s choirs. One of the cathedral leaders told me that this was the most organized the children’s choirs had ever been. I asked him, “Does that mean that in the nearly 800 years the choirs have been singing, that it took an American to straighten you all out?”

Do you have your black-eyed peas soaking? Are your collards cleaned and ready to cook? Do you have everything you need to make your cornbread (except sugar, of course, because it doesn’t belong in cornbread)? 

For me, Christmas isn’t Christmas without reading Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. Not only that, but there are at least 3 versions of the story I HAVE to watch during the season: the 1951 British version, Scrooge (a 1970 musical - the music isn’t always great, but the movie is pretty faithful to the book), and the Muppets’ version (with Michael Caine as maybe the best of all Scrooges). 

During my senior year in college,  I discovered the library in Houston, Texas, had full-length 16 mm movies I could check out, and every few weeks I would bring back to campus a classic movie I’d heard of, but had never seen. Once, when the movie I wanted wasn’t available (Here Comes Mr. Jordan which I still haven’t seen), the library substituted something called It’s a Wonderful Life instead.

It’s that time of year. 

I was sitting at a restaurant in Athens last week when they emerged from the background noise.  One after another. All 3. In a row. First, Mary Did You Know. Then, Last Christmas I Gave You My Heart (a stinker by George Michael). And finally, So This is Christmas (Paul McCartney’s only lame song). 

Have you ever heard of the Mandela Effect? The Mandela Effect is a collective false memory, where many people share the same incorrect recollection of the same detail or event. The term was coined by Francis Broome, who while attending a conference, shared memories with other people about Nelson Mandela's death in a South African prison in the 1980s. The others remembered seeing news coverage of his death as well as a speech by his widow. 

My freshman year of college, I was a journalism major at the University of Alabama and had one of the worst teachers of my life. She was from Long Island and told us she came to Alabama to prove just how stupid southerners were!  

This Sunday’s service is one of my absolute favorites of the year – our Thanksgiving service! Giving thanks to God is at the core of our worship, but this service is completely dedicated to giving thanks.

And there’s food! 

Last Wednesday morning, I was interviewed about Christ Church by a seminary student. He’s taking a church planting class and wanted to interview me because, well, we aren’t the typical church plant. 

During the interview, I had the chance to think through our history as a congregation, and for some of the distinctives that make us unique.

I heard something last Sunday that I don't hear very often. I heard people say, “Amen.” Now, I know most of you come from Methodist or other more “high church” backgrounds where you aren’t particularly used to saying it . . . so when I hear it, I’m quite surprised! 

Well. . . it’s Halloween week,  so I’ll start with a story. A ghost story – a true ghost story. February 2010 was one of the worst periods of my life. My allergies had gone nuts and I couldn’t sleep lying down, so I slept in my recliner. But this particular night I couldn’t sleep at all. You know those times . . . you’re afraid you’ve made some huge mistake; you feel hopeless; you feel trapped; you can’t turn your mind off. 

Fall is my favorite season! The last couple of mornings, getting out when the temp was in the 30s and highs in the low 70s, couldn’t be more perfect. 

And it’s a perfect time to revisit one of my favorite psalms, Psalm 65 – especially since we’re reading it during Sunday’s service. Psalm 65  invites us to pull our heads away from our phones, our tablets, our TV screens or whatever, look around and celebrate the greatness of God. 

As I said Sunday, the story of the 10 lepers (Luke 17:11-19) is one of my favorite passages. It’s a story of faith, grace and gratitude. We see their faith when they obeyed Jesus even before they were healed. We see God’s grace when these men who not only suffer a terrible disease but who also are completely cut off from the rest of society, encounter Jesus and their lives are changed. 

Nobody likes to be reminded they’re old. In fact, as time goes on, I’ve discovered nobody has to remind you – you’re back and your knees tell you every morning! 

Last Sunday I quoted a passage that’s come to mean a lot to me in recent years. In Joshua 13, we read, “Now Joshua was old and advanced in years, and the Lord said to him, “You are old and advanced in years, and very much of the land still remains to be possessed.” As I said Sunday, when the Ancient of Days tells you you’re old, you can mark it down: you are OLD!

The King is coming!  

The man who falsely predicted that the rapture would happen last week has finally spoken up! What did he say? 

The King is coming! But maybe not in the way some people think. 

Last week I wrote that the true meaning of the gospel in the New Testament is a royal announcement that God has returned to Jerusalem in the person of Jesus to reclaim the world from Satan. I want to expand on what that means for us today, but I first need to take a little detour – but I’ll come back to it!

On Wednesday nights we’re studying the gospel of Mark, which opens with the words, “The beginning of the gospel [or good news, depending on your translation] of Jesus Christ.”

What is the gospel? 

Gospel is a word I hear tossed around a lot. It can refer to a style of music or it can refer to doctrine. Most people will answer something like “the gospel is ‘good news’ about Jesus Christ, specifically his life, death, and resurrection, and the salvation offered through faith in him Jesus died on the cross for our sins.” I googled that, but it’s a typical summation.

I found out that one of my favorite high school teachers died this past Sunday. Maynelle Harwell was the wife of our school president (and pastor – it was a religious school) but also a wonderful history and drama teacher. She had a gift for making history come alive! 

For years I was involved with a non-profit that was run by a married couple who had worked as volunteers from the organization’s inception. They ran it with an iron fist, insisting that everything be done their way, and so were perceived as being difficult by anyone who wanted to do anything differently. But, to be honest, since they had been there from the beginning and knew the ins and outs better than anyone else, their way really was the best way. 

Sometimes I miss my days in seminary. Sometimes not. I started out at Asbury Seminary in Wilmore, KY, but transferred to a smaller seminary in central Indiana affiliated with the church tradition I was raised in. There, in Anderson, Indiana, I had a great little attic apartment . . . right across the street from both the seminary and a cemetery!