Gordon Atkinson
Stage fright: When preachers panic
When I was young, the youth leader of our church would occasionally ask for someone to give a testimony during the worship service. All the kids would get quiet, shuffle their feet and squirm....
Chairs and prayers: Like setting a perfect table for a grand banquet
I’ve been setting up chairs at our church since 1991. When I began, we were meeting in temporary places—a school, a fire station, and even a bar for a time....
Night of angels
The angel said, "Fear not."“Fear not” is one of the standard opening lines that angels use to calm humans when they meet them, but it rarely does any good, and it certainly didn’t do any good on this night. At the first sound coming from the angel’s mouth, all eight shepherds fell flat on their faces. They were shaking and clinging to the earth as if crawling back into the dust from which they came might save them this night.
Zeno and the gospel paradox: Called to goodness
In the 1900 Olympic games, Frank Jarvis won the gold medal in the 100 meter dash with a time of 11 seconds. He was a full second faster than the gold medal time of the previous Olympics.
...The elusive nature of evil: Part three
In the spring of 2004, the serial killer known as BTK shocked experts around the world by reappearing after what were thought to be 20 years of dormancy....
In praise of things old and inconvenient: Transcending the reality of inefficiency
Someone left a beautiful blue box on the front porch of our church recently. A note on the top said "For Gordon." Inside was an elegant, blue fountain pen with gold bands, a gift from an Episcopal priest named Cristopher whom I had met in a coffee shop. We had one of those "You're a minister? Me too!" conversations that ministers often have. I noticed he was writing with a fountain pen. And since he is left-handed, there was ink smeared all over his hand.
Suffering foolishness: Perils of the open door
I ran into Perry recently. How many years has it been, I wonder? I came to know Perry when he visited our church. He was a man with no passion of his own, a guy who walked from church to church and seemed to come to life only when he discovered some well-hidden heresy or doctrinal error. For Perry, Christianity was only a means to an end.
Masked man
A woman brought a small book to our church a couple of years ago. She put it on the wooden table in our worship room, right beside the guest book and the orders of worship....
A thousand little maps: Kindness on the border
As you head south out of San Antonio, you begin to enter the brush country. It’s something of a cross between a desert and a briar patch. Cacti abound, and almost every plant has thorns or spines of some kind. Everything is armored and protected. Even the cacti are on the offensive. It is this brutal and scorched countryside that thousands of Mexicans brave each year as they cross the border looking for a share of the legendary wealth of los Estados Unidos.
The lion and the lamb
The lion’s roar came out of the Age of Enlightenment. It was the roar of freedom. It was the roar of truth. It was the roar of the victor standing over the body of his vanquished foe....
Dolphins and darkness
Dolphins have no reason to fear darkness. When they move into deep water, they use their built-in sonar echolocation system. They see with sound waves instead of light waves....
The story of Old Man Cedar: A model of strength
In the latter years of the 19th century, an ashe juniper sprouted in a thicket near the Camino Real, the King’s Highway, just north of San Antonio, Texas.
...Body language of the soul: Grace will have to be sufficient
When I was a child, I found repetition comforting. No one taught me this. I discovered it on my own, and it seemed to come naturally to me.
...A listening prayer: For prayer you do not have to speak
I can’t imagine absolute silence. Even when I’m in a quiet place, my mind produces its own ghostly, seashell sound. The noise in my head is a faint but high-pitched whine accompanied by a lower rumbling that sounds like an engine pulsing away in the distance. These are the default sounds of my brain—what I hear when there is nothing else to hear.
Turtles all the way down: Ours is to nurture passionate fidelity
Children living on the edges of time zones are the ones most aware of the arbitrary nature of timekeeping....
I remember Mrs. Fortner: Self-serving ministry
A free association exercise: Random memories from the 18 months I spent as a chaplain intern at Baylor University Medical Center in Dallas.
...The gift of believing: Touching the words of God
A few months ago I was allowed to view a page or two from the Gospel According to Matthew in the famous Saint John’s Bible, which will be a priceless masterpiece when it is finished....
Going down with the ship: In for the long haul
I will go down with this ship. And I won't put my hands up and surrender. There will be no white flag above my door. (Dido)
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Personal space: Uncommon intimacy
I didn’t just violate her personal space; I obliterated it with one public and very embarrassing collision.
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