There have been many prayers being lifted during the pandemic, among them prayers for wholeness, guidance, protection and peace. But perhaps the greatest request of all was that of healing — something that two Charlotte, North Carolina, congregations received quite unexpectedly. The COVID-19 virus opened the way for healing a post-Civil War wound between First United Presbyterian Church, a Black congregation established in 1866 that is located literally a stone’s throw away from tall-steepled First Presbyterian Church, which was established in 1821.
“All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights.” That’s how the first article of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights begins. The declaration was drafted in response to the calamities and barbarous acts experiences by people all over the world during World War II. This year marks the 72nd anniversary of this historic document in moral consciousness that has been a beacon of hope and purpose throughout the world. The United States was instrumental in this effort, and Eleanor Roosevelt was the driving force in the drafting the document that would become the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.
Over the years, I have had the privilege of serving three very different churches. One was a historic urban congregation with a sizable administrative staff. One was a rural, mountain church where I was the only staff person. The third was a multi-staff, big-steeple congregation in a midsize city. While worship styles and other ways of doing things differed in these churches, the handling of money was a responsibility that either the staff or volunteers had to deal with in all three ministry contexts. And with people having an endless number of charities and nonprofits to give their limited resources, churches need to be the very best, most faithful and most responsible places toward which we ask people to give. Churches have a moral obligation to handle people’s gifts in the most responsible way they can. That wisdom is just as true in small churches as it is in large ones.
Worried about how mainline churches are communicating to the youngest and oldest in their congregations during a time
of online worship, Karen DeBoer, creative resource developer for the Christian Reformed Church in North America, recently surveyed a landscape of churches.
When author and artist P. Lynn Miller proposed the theme of “lament” to the national Bible Study Committee of Presbyterian Women four years ago, no one had any idea how timely the topic would be now.
A timely and sometimes painful discussion on the impact of COVID-19 and racism on Native Americans ended on a hopeful note recently, with a panelist invoking an image from nature.
Congregations striving to maintain their outward incarnational focus, one of the seven marks of congregational vitality, can thrive for at least two reasons: they’re ministering to others while at the same time being ministered to.
In Gail Godwin’s book “The Finishing School,” which features an older woman and a 14-year-old girl, the woman tells the girl she can tell by looking whether a person has congealed. That person will have no more surprises, the woman tells her young friend, and to avoid the trap she must constantly be on guard against gelling too soon. It’s a valued vignette in one of the Rev. Dr. Lib Caldwell’s favorite books.
Like most organizations, PC(USA)- affiliated camp and retreat centers were blindsided by the COVID-19 pandemic. Stay-at-home and social distancing orders struck the very heart and infrastructure of summer camp and retreat resident ministries. But amid it all, associate for Christian Formation Brian Frick has continued to have hope.
About three years ago, Brian Odhiambo lived a life of “survival of the fittest” on the streets of Nairobi, Kenya. He was rescued from his street boy existence and taken to Eastleigh Community Center (ECC), a vocational skills training primary and secondary school of the Presbyterian Church of East Africa (PCEA) that promotes peacebuilding at every grade level.
