Writings
One of my better friends in the ministry is an African-American colleague (about my age) who once served a congregation that took pride in being as social as it was spiritual. In other words, they knew how to pray. But they also knew how to party. And they invited my friend (their pastor) to many of their parties. But while they expected him to show, they didn’t expect him to stay. Nor did they want him to stay.
Oh there’s no place like home for the holidays,
For no matter how far away you roam,
If you want to be happy in a million ways,
For the holidays, you can’t beat home sweet home.
I simply don’t remember how old I was the first time I saw Atlantic City. But I remember, as if it were yesterday, the thing that surprised me above all others. No, it wasn’t the Boardwalk (which, by the time I saw it, was a shabby reflection of its former glory). And it wasn’t the casinos (because that was so long ago, there weren’t any).
If you watch commercial television at all, you are well on your way to believing that everything that currently ails the world can be cured by better cell phone reception. Day after day we see vignettes of businesses in trouble, families in trouble, marriages in trouble, when suddenly this guy shows up with a cell phone and says: “Here, try this.” Immediately, things improve. People improve. Differences disappear. Faces smile.
