This "Skeptic's Collection" column was first published in October of 2014. But in light of the recent mass shootings in, e.g., Las Vegas, NV, Sutherland Springs, TX, and Parkland, FL, it seems appropriate to reprint it now, especially given that the bravery, eloquence, and conscience of the students at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in the latter city seem to have eventuated -- at least so we may hope -- a kind of moral conversion of the public debate on gun control. This column may well also be published as an essay in the Be-Zine, the other e-periodical for which I write. That is quite all right. To quote Mao Zedong: "Let a hundred flowers bloom". I want to add my modest impetus to the newly "woke" consciousness regarding the Second Amendment.
A well-regulated militia,
I've been feeling pulled toward liturgical worship recently, and I couldn't figure out why. I grew up going to a Southern Baptist church only occasionally. I don't think I even heard the word liturgy until seminary. Even then,"liturgical" was a synonym for "BORING."
When I saw this quote this week, it all started to come together . Maybe I'm drawn to the idea of structure in worship. Structure is God's way of catching me. I've felt lost without work because I don't have any structure in my days. I don't have too little time--I have too much time.
I need to create a routine to find God. When I do, God will catch me. One of my favorite things about blogging here is that there's a day each week you can find me. I find you every Sunday, and in that connection, we can find God together.
I seek sacred space. I need sanctuary. I crave community. There was a time I believed I could find all those things in church. It's been a long time since I've tried, and I'm not sure why.
I picked up a book a few weeks ago called Lessons in Belonging from a Church-Going Commitment Phobe for my Amazon Kindle. I've been reading books like this lately trying to figure out what it is that's keeping me from going back. Searching for Sunday: Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church and Post-Traumatic Church Syndrome: A Memoir of Humor and Healing are helping me not by giving me the answers I'm looking for, but by reminding me that I'm not alone with my questions. Rachel Held Evans and Reba Riley are millennials by age, but I find I have more in common with them than I would expect as I'm almo...