Fischer, J. Meljac and J. Fischer eds. Fluck, M. PubMed Google Scholar.
Rs 55 crore and counting: Sebi's expense bill to Sahara
Fuson, K. Brainerd ed. Ginsburg ed. Gelman, R. Hitch, G. Sloboda and D. Rogers eds. Hughes, M. Maclellan, E. Thompson ed.
Montugue-Smith, A. Munn, P. Payne, J. Jensen ed. Piaget, J. Sophian, C. Suggate, J. Walkerdine, V. Wynn, K. CrossRef Google Scholar. Bruce 1 J. Clear to me is that with each dance around the sun, I appreciate quiet more. I cherish unstructured days and the luxury of rest. Unmistakably I am slowing down.
No joke. She is 84, managing pancreatic cancer, and still daring to show up every day to be a voice of reason and justice in a world gone mad.
Similarly Justice Anthony Kennedy was widely rumored to be retiring this year and the likes of actor Carl Reiner in his 90s decided to weigh in with an OpEd in the NYT pleading for Kennedy to hang on a while longer. Kennedy is only 81 and Reiner points out that he has years of good life ahead. Maybe so. Oddly the news these days is filled with images of old white men leading this nation. Old is in, like, really old. Young in this administration is my age. Honestly I think this is kind of dangerous.
Not only is there a time warp, the painful truth is that not only do our step slow, so too do our minds. With the vantage of perspective if not wisdom we actually do bring something unique and worthy to the table. And maybe some of that is also important in these perilous times. Personally I believe that the keys to the kingdom should remain with younger peeps, but I recognize that the graciousness of this summer off-time is appropriately only temporary. In this critical time we must have all hands on deck, each tending to the next right thing in front of us. If we take it one step at a time, we can do this.
At least for one more season. Yesterday was the long awaited first-again sermon at an unsuspecting church on the far northern outskirt of the county. After making myself publicly available this spring to share a message of how the gospel looks to one white-lady-pastor-turned-protestor, this one and only church asked me to come.
After weeks of trepidation, the moment of reckoning was now. Feeling at once at home and simultaneously on hostile ground, I took my seat at the pulpit.
55 Words and Counting
For the most part my instincts took over and I moved through the service like the veteran that I am, rusty but experienced. When it was over, I wanted to bask but it felt all wrong.
The smiles and hugs and kind words were familiar, but also the chill. There was a reserve, a marked disconnect. Could it be simply group weariness from having too many strangers pass through their midst this summer? More likely though would be the obvious: displeasure. I often forget that nice white church folk smile at you as they then turn to their neighbor to complain. Is this what was happening? What is my business is being faithful. The only relevant question, for me, is whether I was faithful to the gospel that I was given.
ZOOMING @50 PLUS: 55 and Counting -- Time keeps on ticking | prinapcompo.tk
Did I share with integrity, humility, and prayerful presence as best I was able? I believe so. A friend texted later in the day and asked how it went. As I replied, I discovered the conundrum that haunted me every Sunday for 23 years. The message that has been given to me, from my earliest call, has been a prophetic one; a message that pushes the edges, asks hard questions of myself and the wider community, that understands that none of us are truly free until every one of us is.
This felt need combined with a prophetic message has always been a toxic duo, preaching things that make congregations stir and then looking to that very same community for approval. For years I was able to find some balance in a setting with a fairly large and supportive staff team. As a staff we could provide the chorus of yes as we troubled with the waters, supported one another, and found life in ever deepening waters. Truly my undoing in parish ministry was the devolution of the staff team.
In the rearview mirror I can recognize that it happened gradually and can even see areas of my own culpability, at the time I was clear only about betrayal. Regardless, the loss was complete and I found myself floating and sinking on my own. So much of this has been buried. Stepping into the pulpit yesterday morning brought it back. It is a sinkhole of grief that pulls with remarkable force, even now. Yesterday morning was about sharing a sacred word in a community to which it hopefully belongs. There is nowhere in America more in need of frank talk about race, whiteness, and the soul of this nation than white church.
Imperfectly but in very personal terms, I invited that conversation yesterday morning. Using the lectionary text of the morning, I shared my own grief, included stories of urgency and terror straight from the streets, and pointed to a path forward. Like Jonah reluctantly preaching in Nineveh, I shared the message given to me.
What happens from here is really none of my business. If Jonah had let go at this point, his story would have ended happily. Clear is the command to share the message and relinquish all control. And worse. And I have renewed clarity that while such is the task at hand, pastors reliant on congregational paychecks cannot be the ones to deliver this message. Note: If you know of churches where this message might be shared, please be in touch.
All proceeds in their entirety will be used to support Jericho Project, a new initiative of the Wicked Poets Society in St.
- 55 and Counting Poems by David Waldon.
- Related products.
- A Particular Account of the Battle of Bunker or Breeds Hill on the 17th of June, 1775..
- What’s Hot on Infosecurity Magazine?.
There are dates that are seared into our very beings. Dates we will never forget. Dates that mark before and after in our lives. I remember where I was and what I was doing when the news broke. The emotions that raged are still a knotted mess.
Related 55 and Counting
Copyright 2019 - All Right Reserved