Dear Rose Park,
A few days ago, I was pulling weeds in my driveway. I know that sounds odd, but there are weeds creeping up through the cracks in my driveway and it is driving me nuts. At some point, I’m almost impressed with their ability to survive but I think I’d be more impressed if they survived in someone else’s driveway. As I was pulling these weeds, I was reminded of one of my favorite bible stories.
Dear Rose Park,
One of my seminary professors would always tell this story. He served as a pastor in Mississippi and when someone of the community would ask where is your church? he’d answer by saying: Well, Mr. Smith works as a mechanic around the corner, Miss Suzie is a local school teacher, and the Robinson family is just across the street. My professor knew that the question where is your church? typically referred to a building, but he took every chance he could to remind his community that the church is a people and not merely a brick-and-mortar location
Dear Rose Park,
I like balance. For example, I love the beauty of traditions but I also don’t like to be boxed in. On the other side, I love the freshness of a new idea, but I also don’t like to reinvent something every five-minutes. So, when something old and something new can complement each other and work together in perfect balance, this pastor’s heart is deeply warmed.
Dear Rose Park,
One of my favorite movies is Sister Act. Maybe it’s because of the music or maybe it’s because I can remember watching it with my mom as a kid. It’s the story of a lounge singer, Deloris (Whoopi Goldberg), heading into witness protection under the guise of a nun in California. Deloris then becomes Sister Mary Clarence and is assigned to the convent’s choir where she ruffles feathers, inspires the women, and unintentionally reminds a community of the joy of worship.
Rose Park Church,
Be honest, when is the last time you sat down to read the bible? When was the last time you studied the Bible with a commentary, a podcast, or another supportive text? When was the last time you read through the life of Jesus to know the story of our Savior? Regardless of how you answered those questions, reading the bible can be an intimidating feat. We might not know where to start or we might not fully understand the context of what we are reading. If that’s the case, I’d like to extend an invitation.
Dear Rose Park,
I’m guessing, more often than not, when we think of prayer we think of public prayer during communal worship. We think of our prayer of confession or the Lord’s prayer. If we think of prayer from an individual standpoint, I imagine we think of prayers before meals or before bed. Yesterday, I read an interesting article from Faithward all about centering prayer.
Dear Rose Park,
There’s something beautiful about riding a bicycle. I can remember learning how to ride a two-wheel bike at Lakeview Park on the south side of town with the help of my two brothers. I can remember the liberating feeling that came with the skill knowing that I had the ability to go wherever I wanted (within in reason). I can remember the joy of riding around the neighborhood with childhood friends. At the same time, within the beauty of riding a bicycle there’s also an inherit danger.
Dear Rose Park,
This past Sunday we introduced a new sermon series entitled, “Around the Campfire” where we’re diving into the Parables of Jesus found in the Gospel of Matthew. We’re figuratively gathering around the campfire in order to hear these stories and be invited to see God and His Kingdom in a new and perhaps challenging way. So, it seems appropriate that as I am at Camp Geneva this week serving as the chaplain on the Pines campus, the guiding verse for Camp has to do with a prophet known for a prophecy about a burning fire of indignation.
Dear Rose Park,
8 For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— 9 not by works, so that no one can boast.
Ephesians 2: 8-9
A week or so ago, Hank Sybesma dropped off 400 golf balls in my office. Apparently, when Hank and Lynne winter down to Florida, Hank picks up golf balls on his morning walk. Hank doesn’t play golf, so he thought I’d like them. Whether Hank knows it or not, these 400 golf balls are a physical reminder of God’s grace for me.
Dear Rose Park,
I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately. Some of it has been mindless summer reading (two Jack Reacher novels), others have been a refresher in our creeds and confessions (e.g. the Heidelberg Catechism and the Belhar Confession), but a bulk of my reading has been related to my doctorate program. One book in particular stands out in my mind.
