As a young boy, I had the privilege of having a hockey coach who came from the "old school," in other words, he was a disciplinarian. Our practices consisted of drills which emphasized and reinforced the fundamentals of the game: skating, handling the puck, shooting, and passing. We started the drills slowly, but as we mastered each drill, the speed picked up. Practices were up-tempo and exhausting.
Needless to say, we boys didn't like this coach, nor his methods. We wanted to play the game, to have fun. We couldn't wait to move up to the next age level -- and a new coach.
UPCOMING WEEKS In addition to the lectionary resources there are thousands of non-lectionary, scripture based resources...
Dean Feldmeyer Christopher Keating Mary Austin Ron Love Bethany Peerbolte George Reed
For July 28, 2019:
My Husband; My Wife by Dean Feldmeyer — Even when we have been unfaithful, when we have been dysfunctional and destructive, when we have been mean, and hateful, and all those things that make us so disgustingly human, even then, God brings us home from the back alleys of sin and covers us with grace.
The parable of the man who turns away the midnight caller? Ridiculous! The idea that God would find a way to restore a broken relationship with people who will not obey simple, life giving commands, is absurd. No. Ridiculous! The idea that someone would choose vain and empty philosophies and catch phrases after entering a relationship with the true and eternal God? Ridiculous!
When Moira's husband was killed in a car crash at the age of 35, Moira was understandably devastated. For days she was in shock and hardly knew what she was doing. And since she'd kissed Mike goodbye as usual that morning, she couldn't believe that he was really dead, even though the police arrived at her place of work and told her. But Moira just couldn't take it in.
Then, as it eventually began to dawn on her that it really was true and that she'd never see Mike again, she felt utter, crushing despair. It was then that she began to bargain with God.
This sermon was prepared for and preached at a chapel service at Columbia Seminary at which the Lord's Supper was celebrated. The bread was three loaves in a basket on the Table. These loaves were broken at the time of the distribution of the elements. The Moores referred to lived next door to me at the time. Mrs. Moore was manager of the seminary dining hall.