Monthly Archives: April 2019
O.A.K.
I am afraid.
I’m not, pardon the pun, afraid to admit it.
There is a lot of hatred out there.
Everywhere.
News. Internet. Blogs. Facebook. Instagram.
A lot of hate and anger.
Most of that hate and anger is directed at Christians. We are the new pariah; the new villain. Christianity is intolerant, hateful, judgmental, phobic. Think of a vile adjective and it has been hurled at Christians.
What is our response? Hunker down. Bunker down. Retreat into our communities of like minded people.
Take a look at one of those inwardly focused communities. There was a class of very religious men. Devout. Faithful to the rules. Pure and clean and undefiled. These men had very little love, mercy, or compassion. In their eyes, if you were suffering it was a punishment. Maybe you were at fault. Maybe your parents. Someone, somewhere was to blame for your misery.
This class of religious leaders were feared by the people over which they presided. They called anyone who deviated from their teachings as hypocrites. When they saw someone suffering, they passed on by. After all, the sufferer deserve what they got!
Into this morass of religious perversion a lone man appeared. He taught something very radical.
Read the rest of this entryThe Homecoming Feast
I tied the last knot on my piece of leather string and handed it to my friend sitting next to me. Nicky Nix, one of my best friends and my brother in Christ tied the string around my left ankle. I turned to my right and tied a similar string around the ankle of another of my deacon friends. We were to wear the strings around our ankles for several weeks as we prepared for the production of “The Deacon Led Living Last Supper”.

That was many years ago and I marveled at the deacons who had never been on stage in their life showing a reluctant willingness to portray one of the disciples seated at the table with Jesus on the night of His last feast with them. For weeks we practiced together, we prayed together and we drew closer and closer as a deacon body until the night of our performance.
Our educational minister and associate pastor at the time was Bruce Edwards. Bruce had brought the script to me and asked me to update the language for a more modern audience. The original script was written, I believe, in 1953. The script Bruce handed me didn’t even have the author’s name on it. I took a stab at the script bearing in mind which deacon would be playing which disciple. This meant that some of the monologues would have to be significantly shortened!
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