Our congregation, like others, is not worshipping inside for safety and health reasons. With Covid spiking, with a more serious strain now being passed around, we want to up everyone's chances of staying healthy. So, for as long as weather allows, we will worship in the parking lot. (Those who attend remain warm and comfy in their cars). I remember setting for myself, the lowest temperature and the highest windspeed that I would accept, and still worship outside. I find m

I am technologically challenged. I have never successfully hosted a Zoom meeting, but at least I can now successfully join on 9 out of 10 tries. I have little idea about Skype. I don't know how to work the video camera at church. But one thing I just learned – and yes, you may laugh! I just learned how to make a video call! What a gift, especially when I talk to my mom, who is in NC. What a gift, to see my grandchild's gifts on Christmas morning while he is at home in

So, in past months, worship is taped in an empty sanctuary. Communion is celebrated in the parking lot or online, and I have presided at a backyard baptism. Some might be bothered by that – aren't the sacrament's holy moments that deserve the best setting?Thing is, the sacraments are gifts from God. They are not things we do for each other. Wherever you are, God is with you. And God's presence is what makes a moment holy. And yet, I still can't wait to preach in a full s

I cried today. Yes, there have been tears the past 2 days for people I cared about who have died... Bob, Earl, Jack, Ruth Ann, Louis, Glen, Phyllis. Wednesday's tears were different. I watched an assault on Democracy unfold, putting lives in danger. I watched grounds I had walked as an intern, the balcony where I had witnessed government at its best, the tunnels I took to get to lunch now become escape routes to safe places. And I cried. Not out of a sense of despair or h

Ever thought of the circumstances in which Jesus hears his name spoken? First by Mary right after he was born. Also, at his baptism, when God declares him to be His Son, the Beloved. A name represents a sense of belonging. My grandmother called me, "Dahling." My mother calls me "Katy Bug." My grandchildren call me "Grammy." Oh sure, I heard my full given name plenty of times when I messed up, but even that means I belonged and someone cared. You are God's child. You b

Your tree, if you had a real one, has probably been put at the curb, picked up, and turned into mulch. I always find it interesting how folks decorate. Sometimes, it looks like the tree is straight out of a Martha Stewart magazine. Everything pristine and showroom perfect. Except for one year, when we tried that, we have a tree with ornaments that go back 55 years. If you look at my ornaments, you get a hint of where we have been (Williamsburg, the Carolinas, Nebraska, S