Claudia Wall, a 2PC member who also spends a significant amount of time with family in Minneapolis, dropped our humble blog a line to recommend the work of Joe Davis, a poet in residence at Westminster Presbyterian in Minneapolis. Here is a video of Joe performing his poem  Show Up , which starts: “We are called to this place and this season. You may not yet know the time and reason. You may not feel, think or believe in the same things that I believe in, But we’ve been asked to   Show up.” You might also like to take a look at Joe Davis’s websites – his professional website and an older blog that includes some of his other poems – as well that the homepage for Westminster Presbyterian and its video channel. http://joedavispoetry.com/ https://joedavispoetry.wordpress.com/poetry/ https://www.westminstermpls.org/ https://vimeo.com/showcase/5294715 Thank you for alerting us to Joe's work, Claudia.

Mike Willock writes: I was struck by the opening lines of the October 18 worship service. "It was when I was happiest that I longed most...The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing...to find the place where all the beauty came from.” - C. S. Lewis At the end of the Forest Park prayer service on October 11, my eye was caught by flashes of magenta in the grass at my feet, lit by the setting sun. I bent down and took this picture. You can see that each tiny bloom on its little stem is smaller than your little finger, and you have to look closely to see its structure and the delicate shading of its color. It reminded me of a spirituality class exercise taught years ago at Todd Hall by Rev. Belden Lane. Belden is an honorably retired PC(USA) pastor who usually sits in the front row of the east transept at Second. After lunch, the class was asked to walk outside and spend about 30 minutes looking for signs of God. My first sighting was a flower blooming in the decaying cen

A photo snapped by Mike Willock in front of the church this weekend:  And some lines from the poem "The Last Rose of Summer" by Thomas Moore (1779-1852) 'Tis the last rose of Summer,    Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions    Are faded and gone; No flower of her kindred,    No rose-bud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes   Or give sigh for sigh!

Tim Woodcock writes: At the weekend we attended a (virtual) Bat Mitzvah for our niece. One of the many fascinating parts of the service was when the rabbi addressed the congregation as “God wrestlers.” What an intriguing phrase! It sent me down a rabbit hole of research that I’m not going to recount here. But wouldn’t it be interesting if Christian congregations started using that phrase, too?