Some time in the last week or two I was listening to Minnesota Public Radio, and a story about “legacy letters” came on.
Oh little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth, the everlasting light
The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.
So today is Christmas Day.
“Der Pfarrer und die Gläubigen sollten sich nicht einbilden, dass sie eine religiöse Gesellschaft sind, die sich um bestimmte Themen herum dreht, sondern sie leben in der Welt. Wir brauchen doch – nach meiner alten Formulierung – die Bibel und die Zeitung.”
I got myself into a bit of a pickle the other day, and the reason for it (as is the case with most of my pickles [I tend to generate a lot]) started innocuously.
Sometimes, let’s just admit it, English isn’t quite as deft as one might like.
Here’s a word I hadn’t known before yesterday: Cleromancy.
So I had to deal with a bit of a firewood kerfuffle this past month.
I joke that R.E.M. is only a band to me.
Senator Ben Sasse (R-Nebraska) and Senator Peter King (R-New York) decry “‘hysterical women” at the Kavanaugh hearings.
A Reflection on James 2:1-17, 2nd Reading in the Revised Common Lectionary for the 16th Sunday after Pentecost, Sept. 9, 2018.
It is more than possible to hold in harmony Manhattans and chocolate milk and Bach and Aretha and gardens and cityscapes and love of other and of self and the reign of God and sharing them all.
On Twitter, recently, I came across this line:
No one can be objective about their own theology.
I like it.
So on the upside, I learned several things, thanks to not one but both dogs being sprayed by a skunk yesterday morning at 4:00 a.m.
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