My wife, Lauren, told me a story once. When she was 16, her mother put her on a plane to Europe. She gave her a peck on the cheek, a few words of encouragement and a credit card. “Have fun,”…
The fireworks we need this Fourth of July
In 1989, I stood on a pee-wee football field, my skin the color of a fresh beet and close to blistering. Done so by the beams of a luminous ball of gas floating in space, some 93 million miles away….
What Joni Ernst doesn’t understand about heaven
Growing up, my family played a game. It’s a game that today drives my wife crazy. “You all speak in movie quotes,” she says. “Who does that?” We do. I do. For as long as I can remember, we’ve performed…
Shall the fundamentalists yet win?
In 1922, a Baptist minister serving a Presbyterian church in Manhattan’s Greenwich Village kicked a hornet’s nest with his Sunday message. Far from the first, or for that matter, last Baptist preacher to do so, he pleaded to those packed…
This isn’t ‘their’ problem; it is ‘our’ problem
In June 2015, my wife and I were on a mission trip with students at a church where I previously served as a youth pastor. The trip had all the makings of a typical youth excursion; students leaving things behind,…
What advice would my grandfather give a pastor today?
My grandfather Stigall was a walking quote. A man who, by intention or by divine gift, could lay down a zinger with little effort. His thoughts and expressions came out in eruptions. Held in for as long as he could,…
What’s keeping this minister awake at night
I have many reasons for not getting what a somnologist or sleep doctor would describe as a full night’s rest. For one, I have children. This means my ears are attuned to any sound slightly resembling a croup-like cough. In…
Take America backward
The last time this happened, I met with two other ministers in a bottle shop. The owner opened up early for us. We filed in with bags under our eyes, proof we stayed awake too late watching news outlets and…
Bullshit
In 1916, a 26-year-old Darley Hiden Ramsey submitted a motto for the newly commissioned town seal of Asheville, N.C. His choice, levavi oculos meos in montes, “I lift my eyes to the hills” was taken from Psalm 121. Scholars consider…
Me and Mrs. Womble
Her last name was several feet tall. Spelled out in chipped bold letters that had seen more hurricane winds than fresh coats of paint. Colored red as if Jesus had spoken them. WOMBLE the sign read above the hardware store….
Reflections upon agrarian/poet/activist Wendell Berry’s 90th birthday
My mother-in-law loves me. I know I’m in her good graces, and she considers me part of her family. I can testify to such assurance because she lavishes me with her chosen form of affection. Her delivery method? Arguing. She’ll…
Oh, dear, what could the trouble be?
Plopping down in our library, I pour myself a glass of something the unlicensed Baptist preacher Elijah Craig had a hand in making. I sift through a plastic milk crate. A small collection of vinyl is housed in it. I…