Christian Century:
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Once upon a time, public prayer was, among my people, something of an art form. It may still be, but not exactly in the same way. After all, back then lay participation in any kind of public worship was so minimal that when it happened--when an adult (certainly not a child) would pray up front of the congregation--it was well, worth noting. Today, democracy has arrived--just about anyone does just about anything. ... READ MORE.
It’s Easter morning, dark as night outside, but soon enough, I’m sure, the dawn will come. Yesterday we were blown around by incessant prairie winds, but relatively warm temps made the backyard so becoming that I simply couldn't stay in the basement, even though the inside work is nearly suffocating.
I snipped some of last year's growth off some bushes, caught my finger something awful--blood all over; then, well-patched, moved on to the perennial bed where I'd left a heavy quilt of leaves over everything last fall. It's been so dry that I didn't even have to rake all that detritus; I simply blew off the dirty cover and there, just beneath, stood, armed for life, a battalion of pointy-headed green nubbins already reaching for the sun.
I don't think anyone knows for sure when the original Easter Sunday morning happened... READ MORE.
Ten years ago maybe, my in-laws, then in their seventies, told us that they told the pastor that once in awhile they'd like to sing the old songs, too. They're not pushy people, believe me. The church had gone wholesale to the new and fresh "praise 'n worship" genre, and they simply got a little tired of being left out.
The pastor's patronizing response to the old folks was that, well, sometimes it was simply necessary to change with the times.
I'm sure my father-in-law never spit right there--after all the pastor was the dominie--but when we came around the next time, he unloaded. "Change?" he said. "I started farming with horses, didn't have indoor plumbing until the late 50s. He's telling me about change?"... READ MORE.