Breaking Down the Dividing Wall

Aminah Robinson paints murals of neighborhoods in days gone by. I saw her installation “Mt Vernon Street” in the art museum of my hometown Cols, OH. Mt Vernon Street was the heart of the African American community in Columbus from 1900-60. While the discrimination of Jim Crow continued outside the neighborhood, the Mt. Vernon area was a tight-knit community where family and commercial life flourished. The mural details in bright colors and exaggerated expression the lively characters and places that filled the street: the green grocer and barber shop the ice man and rag man who went door to door to sell their wares the cultural life of the neighborhood, with its theater and churches and comm

Herod's power and Jesus' power

We could see its skyline for miles. Skyscraping hotels, opulent casinos, glittering in the desert sun. Las Vegas. Driving from Hoover Dam last summer on family vacation, we visited that city famous for adult fun. It was an eye opening experience, especially for my children. There is every kind of entertainment in Las Vegas top chefs at 5 star restaurants, upscale shopping in glitzy malls shows and slots and blackjack tables. There are casinos made to look like Venice, an Egyptian pyramid, or a grand Circus Tent Fountains of water jet upwards in the dry air, and shops spew a/c out their wide open doors. What’s that? Stephanie said pointing to an advertisement. “Bikini Bull Riding” the sign r

Sent Out Church

Viet Le graduated at the top of my high school class. He had escaped from Viet Nam following the war, spent time in a refugee camp in Laos. Then he took a boat across the Pacific Ocean, lived for months in CA before finally settling in OH. I was friendly with Viet; we shared all the same classes and an interest in the life of the mind. But I never invited him to join me at the theater, or hung out after a football game; I never talked with him on the phone. Several years later I got a letter from Harvard. It was from Viet. He told me that his life at Harvard was good, he was keeping up with his studies. But the real reason for the letter was to tell me that he wished we had been better frien

Since some can not make it to church every Sunday, here's a glimpse into the sermons from recent worship services.  


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