I came across a new phrase that I especially like while reading some Richard Rohr: “The edge of the inside.”  Rohr, a Franciscan, uses this phrase to talk about his own relationship with the church and religious life, and commends it as a privileged position from which to see and live. When you’re on the edge of the inside, you’re still inside the institution of the church, still participating in worship and ritual and community life.  But you’re on the edge.  You have a critical distance from the trappings that religion brings with it and you are aware of the shortcomings and hypocrisies of your own tradition.  But even so, you have chosen to stay on the inside.  There is life there.  There is a vibrancy and a gift that one receives by staying in. Being on the edge of the inside also means you have an empathic relationship with

The church building is full with activity during the evenings this week with Vacation Bible School.  The theme, “Give and receive God’s great love,” is a nice continuation of our worship focus for the last three weeks during this portion of the Twelve Scriptures Project.  As has been alluded to in worship, love can be an incredibly broad, general, even generic, idea.  During VBS love has been talked about specifically as extending hospitality. The primary symbol of this hospitality is a canvas tent on the platform in the sanctuary.  Each evening the tent is a scene of hospitality from a dramatized Bible story:  Abraham and Sarah’s welcome of the three visitors in Genesis 18; the inn where the Samaritan takes the injured man he finds by the side of the road in Jesus’ parable on neighborliness; Zacchaeus’ house where Jesus invites himself over for a meal.  Hospitality is a simple

Thoughts after a phone call and Skype session with my daughters and wife who have been in Kansas for nearly three weeks and are returning tomorrow.     “I forgot what you looked like,” laughed the six year old, coming into view, smiling with two less teeth than before, and gazing intently at the screen , at me. I had forgotten too. Not what she looks like, but what effect that gaze has on me. Reminded, she reminds me she will soon be seven, and arrangements must be made: to celebrate this occasion, this passing of time, this flowering of a life, as if out of nowhere. To mark this radiant and unlikely existence we share.    

One of the privileges of being a pastor is having a window into the many ways people in this congregation serve the community in their professional lives.  I spent my morning with Joe Mas, a CMCer who is a criminal defense attorney downtown working especially with the Spanish speaking population.  Joe was part of a panel at a BREAD Welcome Columbus! event on immigration back in March.  His presentation caught my attention and afterwards we agreed that he would show me around his work someday.  That day was today. The court system is mostly a foreign world to me, so a good part of the time I was trying to catch up on the basics of how it all worked.  All morning we were in the Franklin County Municipal Court building on South High Street.  The municipal court hears misdemeanor cases and civil cases where the claim does not exceed

Last weekend I was one of four Columbus Mennonite delegates to the Central District Conference annual gathering, hosted by Madison Mennonite Church in Wisconsin.  Yep, Wisconsin.  And we didn’t have near as far to drive as folks coming from Harrisonburg, Virginia or Pittsburgh, PA.  Atlanta and Sarasota, Florida folks flew.  There is some business that happens at these gatherings, but the main focus is fellowship, worship, and story-telling about what is happening in our congregations.   The two year theme for our Conference is “Transformed Through Text and Table.”    On Thursday evening Matt Morin of Milwaukee Mennonite preached on Mark 10:17-31, the story of the rich young ruler.  He highlighted Jesus’ first line to this young man: “No one is good but God alone.”  We spend a lot of time and effort in discussion and argument vying for the good of our own side, but Jesus isn’t even willing to