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Posts from the ‘Guest posts’ Category

[Robert Hall] A few thoughts over breakfast

My father is a very recently retired United Methodist minister, and he sent this to my brother and me Christmas morning.  It reads as poetry, and also like the terse outlines from which he gave his hundreds of weekly sermons.  I asked him if I could share them with profligategrace readers, this Second Day of Christmas. – ALH

A few thoughts over breakfast.

1 Kings 17. The Ravens, God told Elijah, would feed him bread and meat. Elijah went on this assurance. As simple as that for him. Believing that a bird could be told what to do.

Righteous Raven.

Landing on his shoulder and waiting for Elijah to take it from his beak.

Coincidence: In “It’s a Wonderful Life,” a raven inhabits the Building and Loan. George, a good man, at war with the evil, greedy banker. Raven flapping, flying, perching, cawing.

Why a Raven? Old Elijah’s story travels. No sentimentalized version of this miracle/legend. Just trust, hope, stay the course, obey, take sustenance as it comes.

Give us this day our daily bread. However it comes and by whomever. Whirling, moving creation, like tiny ants we inhabit this little sphere.

Provided for. Some can only wait for the promised ravens. Some of us are piggish and store away the bread and meat, stolen from those who can only hope and pray.

And yet we say, Come, Lord!  Whenever. Meanwhile: Ravens with full beaks, for every thing which takes breath, carbon based vulnerable ones. And bread and meat for soul as well. Can’t survive without both.

Visible and invisible provisions.

[Kara Slade] Send us your binder full of women!

If you watched the presidential debate this evening, or if you were on Facebook or Twitter, you probably heard about Mitt Romney’s ‘binders full of women’ remark.  (Don’t worry, this has nothing to do with Mitt Romney.)

Several friends and I had the idea to use this now-viral phrase to acknowledge the ways that women writers and/or scholars have contributed to how we think, live, pastor, do theology, etc.  We’re asking folks to find a way to show some of the women that have formed you intellectually and to create your own binder/box/shelf/other container.   

As one of my co-conspirators said, let’s show the world what awesome women do.  And if you’re wondering why this matters, take a look at this alarming article on gendered responses to women writing about religion.

If you’d like to participate, send your image in to me (Kara Slade) at admin@profligategrace.com (or tweet it to @KaraNSlade) and I’ll add it to the gallery.

[Sarah McGiverin] The Six Essentials for Preaching to Children – If You Must Do Children’s Sermons, Here’s How

Sarah McGiverin originally posted this on her own blog, Jerusalem to Jericho.  We’re thrilled to run it here as well – it’s an outstanding piece on a part of ministry that it’s far too easy to overlook.  For students about to start Field Ed placements, this may be one to bookmark.

A few entries back on my blog, I mentioned that there were certain parameters within which a children’s sermon might operate – and outside of which it might do real harm.  These are the essentials of a grace-infused children’s sermon, from my point of view.  If you want to proclaim the good news to children, whether through a children’s sermon or in other ways, these six points need to be considered.  I would welcome discussion of these points – or your own additional points! – in the comments.

1) Love the children
This sounds obvious, but it gets overlooked too often. This is the starting place. God loves children. As Christians, we are called to love all who God loves, and that includes children. We are not to fetishize them or worship them or relegate them to the front or the back – we are to love them. And to love someone, we must first see them – we must desire to understand them. We must listen. Loving children means paying attention to children. Loving children means devoting time to thinking through how we minister to children. Engaging children ought not be an afterthought, nor ought it be a means towards reeling in their parents (the ones with the money to fix our roof and pay the salaries!) Children are not the future of the church – they are within the body of Christ NOW, and are within God’s providential care as they are NOW – penniless and vulnerable. Read more

[Tripp York] Five questions with Becky Garrison

Recently, Tripp York ran this post on his blog, The Amish Jihadist.  We’re pleased to bring it to you here, for your reading pleasure.  Congratulations to Becky Garrison on her new book, Ancient-Future Disciples: Meeting Jesus in Mission-Shaped Ministries, and without further ado here’s Tripps interview with “Christianity’s most interesting court jester.”

1) Despite Martin Luther’s incredible propensity for being a major a**hole, he was, to his credit, quite funny. In all of Christianity’s rich tradition of theologians, clerics, activists, mystics, saints and, well, a**holes, who do you think is the funniest?

Where does one start? I mean the dichotomy of anyone claiming to be a follower of Christ while hacking infidels to bits can be quite hysterical if one chooses to interpret Church history through a Monty Pythonesque lens. The sight of say Adam, Noah, Isaiah, or King David running around buck nekkid would either make me tingly, giggly or nauseous depending on the earthly visage set before me. Ever notice how the fundy faithful tend to leave out the passages where the men were running about exposing their boy bits, get rip roaring drunk and other moves that are major no-nos within the world of American Christianity? By the way, speaking of sex-obsessed Christians, try to think of anything funnier than watching a bunch of white male Republicans perform a reacharound the Bible and the Constitution during this 2012 election cycle. Read more

Five Questions with Tripp York

In response (or retribution) to the Five Questions With… series on Amish Jihadist, Profligate Grace sat down with Tripp York, author of The Devil Wears Nada (among many other things).  Kara Slade takes full responsibility for these questions.

1) I noticed that you had the good taste (and good theological sense) to quote Flannery O’Connor’s The Violent Bear it Away on the dedication page. In my unique fantasy life, where I make up reading lists for classes I will probably never teach, that would be one of my top picks. She gets into sacramental ministry, the nature of vocation, the collision of faith and modernity, and on and on. But, of course, it’s all written as a grotesque portrayal of Protestants, and it’s possible to read it in only the grotesque sense. Is it weird to draw parallels between your book and The Violent Bear It Away?

You know, that particular quote was dedicated to my father because it fits our story perfectly—although he admitted to my mother that he had no idea what I meant by it. Thanks, dad.

Fortunately, I’ve been very lucky to be able to use her work in a number of my courses. The Violent Bear it Away is a must. It’s nasty good. But, I often wonder if her portrayal really fits the category of grotesque as much as the category of grotesque is projected onto her work. I don’t know. Maybe such thinking has more to do with my insane ecclesial upbringing in the South, yet I find her character depictions to often be quite realistic (and I’m pretty sure she addressed this grotesque/realism dichotomy). I received an email from an O’Connor scholar of sorts—teaches literature in GA, actually—suggesting that my work in The Devil Wears Nada reads like a non-fictional O’Connor text. Of course, I pretty much wet my pants in joy, but I often wonder if this categorization really does her justice. Because, you know, these are real people. Granted, I think I occasionally employed O’Connor as a sort of hermeneutical tool for negotiating some of the, oh . . . I guess what some may refer to as the bizarre/grotesque, what she even once referred to as ‘freakish’ (which is a great song by Saves the Day)—or, maybe we can just say ‘different’—experiences I enjoyed while hanging out with snake handlers, druids, Christ-loving bodybuilders, and practitioners of the so-called dark arts. Which, by the way, the answer is ‘no’. I did not meet a single Sith Lord.

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