It is painful to watch the transitions taking place here in Michigan, the Mitten State, the once proud home of America’s automotive prowess. The parishioners in our pews are facing challenges they never thought they would confront. A number encounter regular furlough days, or have had salaries reduced, or – worse – have lost their jobs.
The pastor should be discreet in keeping silence, profitable in speech; lest he either utter what ought to be suppressed or suppress what he ought to utter. For, as incautious speaking leads into error, so indiscreet silence leaves in error those who might have been instructed. The pastor ought also to understand how commonly vices pass themselves off as virtues. For often niggardliness excuses itself under the name of frugality,
There’s joy in Tutu’s voice as he recalls a song he sang as a child: “If God be for us, who can be against us?”
St. Thomas Episcopal Church at 18th and Church Streets, NW hopes to build a new church on its property, which was destroyed by arson in 1970. The property is currently a park.
A clown embraces humiliation and is supposed to fall down, get the pie in the face, metaphorically be in the dirt. For the audience of a tramp/hobo clown, the clown is a way of living into that humiliation, that humility. It’s funny because we’ve all been there — we’ve all been in the dirt.
In this final post encouraging Episcopalians to learn about and discuss reproductive ethics, I will briefly review some major ethical questions related to Christians’ use of reproductive and genetic technology, and end with a couple of recommendations.
McDonnell, who previously had resisted legal protections for gay state employees, declared yesterday that as head of the government work force, he will not tolerate bias on the basis of sexual orientation and he threatened to fire offenders.
At their delayed convention later this month, the Diocese of South Carolina will vote on resolutions designed to further distance themselves from the rest of the Episcopal Church.