I grew up and spent most of my adult life in a church tradition (GARBC and Independent Baptist) that, at best, frowned on the word “liturgy.” The only time I heard it used was negatively. “That’s a liturgical church, not a biblical one!” “Liturgy is just cold, dead, formalism!” And…
Late in the evening on December 24, 1963, I was supposed to be snuggled up in my bed with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head. Well, not really; I had no idea what such things were. Nonetheless, my brother and I were standing at the large, old, single-pane…
I really didn’t intend to get up. Hitting the sack at 10:30 meant 3:00 was a mere 4 ½ hours away. Too short of a night, in my book. After all, last week I had written about the need for stewardship of the “temple,” and I know my “temple” doesn’t…
One afternoon last month, while I was working on some mindless routine tasks, a song came on the internet radio station quietly playing in the background. I’d heard it before, a rather pretty, though somewhat melancholy, tune. I couldn’t make out all the lyrics—wasn’t trying to, either—but the repeated phrase,…
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