The life of Moses is so large and significant that it's hard to imagine that we have anything in common with him—until he opens his mouth. As soon as he starts to talk he sounds just like us. When he starts offering excuses, he's not saying anything that we haven't used as reasons for not surrendering our lives to God.
I'm a part-time student at a denominational seminary, where I'm working (very slowly) on an academic-track masters. It's generally been a good experience, but the school's not a perfect fit. Again and again, professors and coursework assume a ministry context.
It's been rather quiet
on the Presbyterian battlefront since May 10, when the Twin Cities presbytery
in Minnesota became the 87th to vote to lift the ban on LGBT
ministers, elders and deacons. That was the decisive vote, and by July 10 the
historic change was official.
I'm making my rounds at Safeway, shopping for my church's community meal. In the produce section—where I am forbidden to ask for donations—I see two heaping boxes of fresh fruits and vegetables headed to the trash.
Reflecting on depression among African Americans and its isolating effects, Wynnetta Wimberley of Emory University says the African adage “I am, because we are” should be used to combat depression in the black community. One study has shown that African Americans are more likely to seek help from clergy than from mental health counseling or medication. Hence African-American pastors play a key role of helping to overcome the shame of depression and restoring people’s place in their communities (Journal of Pastoral Theology, March).