Deadlines being what they are, I’m writing this Thanksgiving piece on gratitude long before the bird’s in the oven, the potatoes have been mashed and the pumpkin pies are cooling on the wire racks. The hardest part is putting fingers to keyboard without those olfactory cues. Nonetheless, it’s not difficult to reach inside a grateful heart, as we do every year at this time, and thank God for being alongside us on the journey.
This year marks the 25th anniversary of the U.N. General Assembly’s designation of Nov. 25 as the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women. The day serves as an annual reminder of the power of collective solidarity, which is needed from one year onto another to change the structural inequities posed by violence against women. The day also launches 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence organized by civil society around the world, including the Church, to join forces to address violence against women as the most pervasive breach of human rights worldwide. The annual campaign concludes on International Human Rights Day, Dec. 10.
During his trial, Jesus was put in a difficult position by Pilate. The authorities that condemned him saw Jesus as a mere man, but he was so much more. Pilate wanted Jesus to speak his truth, but Pilate had already judged his truth as a lie. He wanted Jesus to admit he was the Messiah to ridicule and punish him. Although he was killed in part for his honest response, Jesus’ answer has resonated with Christians for centuries: “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth …” (John 18:33–40).
Nov. 11 was originally set aside as “Armistice Day” to honor veterans of World War I. Congress sought to set aside time to “commemorate with thanksgiving and prayer and exercises designed to perpetuate peace through goodwill and mutual understanding between nations … with appropriate ceremonies of friendly relations with all other peoples.” In 1954, the word “armistice” was replaced with “veterans” to remember those who served in World War II and Korea.
It’s almost time for seasonal gatherings with those we love. Many people will choose which recipes to prepare, who will host and who will travel, and how many pieces of pie to put on their plates. Some will have the privilege of deciding on guest lists, gift lists and which days to take off work.
“I voted.” Who doesn’t love slapping one of those stickers on their shirt, reusable water bottle or notebook? It’s a seemingly simple action and declaration.
And yet as the United States approaches another presidential election day — one in which vitriol, rhetoric and “fake news” continue to dominate airwaves and social platforms — those “I voted” stickers carry a greater weight. For to vote — in free and democratic elections — is to keep at bay the threats of authoritarian power grabs and nationalistic fervor. Voting is both a right and a responsibility to participate in the shaping of our common life. In recent election cycles, however, the guarantee of “free” and “democratic” processes has endured profound challenges
During its fall meeting, the Synod of Lakes and Prairies approved a new policy of restorative actions.
Synod Moderator Jeff Dickinson noted that the synod — comprised of Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota, North Dakota, South Dakota, and eastern and central Nebraska — pledges to allocate, according to its new policy, “a proportional amount of wealth it receives from future undesignated bequests and property transfers for surrender to Restorative Actions trusts or Afro American and Indigenous organizations benefiting their communities.”
The Rev. Dr. John McClure, an ordained minister in the PC(USA) who taught homiletics at both Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary and at Vanderbilt Divinity School, delivered three talks as part of the recent Beecher Lectures at Yale Divinity School. Under the theme of “Renewing Preaching Through a Critical Homiletics of Genre,” McClure spoke in Marquand Chapel on “Critical Homiletics and Analysis of the Congregational Sermon as Genre.”
Grace Pomroy took her position as director of the Stewardship Leaders Program at Luther Seminary in Saint Paul, Minnesota, with joy. When she entered the building, it was empty except for two people — one wearing a makeshift mask and rubber gloves. Papers to be signed were shoved back and forth down a long table.
In the midst of the devastation from Hurricane Helene in western North Carolina, Black Mountain Presbyterian Church (BMPC) has become a refuge for those seeking food and comfort in a time of crisis.
