He looked no more than 14 as he came forward to welcome me with a hearty handshake. Assuming he was a primary school pupil, I asked about his teacher. He responded, “Hello, ma’am. I am the teacher.” Still skeptical, I began a full-scale inquisition: How old are you? How long have you been a teacher? Which class do you teach? And finally: Are you really the teacher?
In late January, Daniel Pappas was riding in a van with his video equipment, traveling toward the border of Burma (Myanmar). Most people don’t get that kind of opportunity, but to him it’s just another happy step on a path he didn’t know he was taking.
In 2017, when representatives from the United Nations toured the Black Belt of Alabama, one commented that the poverty there was unlike any he had seen in the First World. This area across the southern half of Alabama, once famous for its antebellum cotton production, is now well known for its difficult living conditions. These conditions disproportionately affect the African-American descendants of enslaved labor. Yet, many of these black residents also inherited an indomitable work ethic and have made incredible strides for themselves and their children.
Gita, a toddler, sits on her mother’s lap, her head lying on the table in front of them so quietly she might be napping. It is as if she is willing her mother, Hiromis, to concentrate on her studies in the Superior Ecumenical Institute of Religious Sciences (ISECRE), a weekly interfaith academic program of the Evangelical (Presbyterian) Theological Seminary (SET) in nearby Matanzas.
Starting this reflection about youth in the church with the death of an ancient, Old Testament, king in the back of my mind is a strange place to begin. My “today” mind is full of the images I am enjoying on social media of young people in the middle of summer mission immersions, camps, service projects and other summer activities.
As we wind down from the slower pace of the summer, we’re reminded that a seasonal shift is upon us. Our Sunday newspapers are littered with ads that boast the best “back-to-school” sales, as our grocery stores beckon us to stock up for “one last summer BBQ.” With cooler, less humid days are on the horizon, we prepare to say goodbye to summer, as we welcome autumn and all that it brings.
The Presbyterian Ministry at the United Nations (PMUN) recently played host to a group of doctoral students from Columbia Theological Seminary in Decatur, Georgia. The 10 students and faculty had taken a weeklong seminar course entitled “The Church in a World of Displaced Persons.”
In 2016, when I was 12 years old, I read an article about a boy half my age named King Carter who was gunned down less than a mile from my home in Miami Shores. King was walking to a convenience store to buy candy when he was killed in the crossfire between two drug-dealing gangs. After reading about his tragic story, I didn’t understand why he had to die.
Satoe Soga was 11 and miserable.
She’d just moved from Taiwan to Japan with her parents, who were ordained Presbyterian ministers. Her father had been called to a Taiwanese congregation there.
With “home” as its theme, the 2018 Montreat College Conference (Jan. 2–5) urged students and their ministry leaders to consider the many ways the word impacts their lives. “What makes a place home? What does it mean to leave home? What does it mean to feel like you don’t have a home?” the conference introduction asked. “What about those who
do not have a home and cry out for justice and mercy?”
