Tim Woodcock writes: As the dust settles on the recent COP26 climate summit in Glasgow, it is clear that this was not landmark event that many where hoping for. The Glasgow Climate Pact nudged humanity in the right direction, but it’s hard to characterize it as anything other than “too little, too late.” Sadly the talks in Glasgow will not earn the city a place in the history books as the location of game-changing agreements, as Rio and Paris had before it. I have a special affection for Glasgow, nicknamed “the dear green place,” having lived there for six years (studying at the University of Glasgow for four years and then living there a couple of years beyond that; it’s where I met my wife; and we still have a number of friends either in the city or nearby). Beyond our academic classes, the circles that Katy and I moved in involved university chaplaincy groups, the Quaker meeting, and various activist groups, and recently I spent an enjoyable evening trawling through the news cove...

Click here to enjoy a blog post by Ellen Schroeder , originally published on the Presbytery of Giddings Lovejoy’s website. It describes Ellen's experience of Forest Park as a sacred place.

Tim Woodcock writes: Last week I started to make some notes for a blog post about the gorgeous vacant church at the corner at Kingshighway and Washington, which I have long admired and been puzzled by. I was intrigued by the recent addition of a sign outside the Second Baptist church that says a national Gospel Hall of Fame is “coming soon.” But early on Tuesday morning, a fire swept through part of the building, leaving the future of the building plan in doubt – or at least making any future renovation even more complicated and expensive. Second Baptist is not just any old disused church building. It’s an entire complex that fills up a city block in one of the most desirable parts of the city; it includes gardens and cloisters that connect the various buildings. As a piece of architecture, it would not look out of place on an Italian hillside. It is a building beautiful enough to stop a passerby in his tracks, as was the case for me on a recent Sunday, when I was biking home from c...

Vickie Robinson writes: It’s funny how news can change our lives in an instant. There is always joy, sadness, and uncertainty in the news. The news of my coworker’s new role at a new congregation in Colorado brought to mind feelings of joy and sadness. The more I wrestled with my feeling of sadness, the more I remembered all the times this coworker took me under his wings during my times of stress in my new position as an office administrator that I did not think would ever improve. He always let me know that the achievement of working on the weekly church bulletins would get easier with time and that if I didn’t understand something, it wasn’t the end of the world, and he was always there for me. My once sad news has now turned into news of joy because I now realize what an honor and blessing it has been for me to work alongside such a phenomenal and talented colleague and friend as Andrew Peters. Andy, thank you so much for being there for me even when it s...

Vickie Robinson writes: When I watch the world around me slowly repair itself, and life as we once knew it returns to the world, I am forever grateful and thankful for every single time when the news reminds me of the staggering numbers of Covid cases, catastrophic events, and the number of Afghan refugees and migrants trying to cross the border. Knowing this, I have realized how blessed I have been. I have not had the virus, nor have any of my family members; I have not experienced natural disasters such as Hurricane Ida; and I have the freedom to do things that others can only dream of. If you run into a rough patch in life, remind yourself how blessed you are to have your health, freedom to live your life the way you want, and no natural disasters.  And remember to thank God for it all.

Cheryl Sharpe writes: My first exposure to the Lord’s Prayer was not in church. When I was in elementary school, I woke up every weekday morning to the sound of local talk radio station, KMOX-AM. My bedroom was right across the hall from the kitchen, where my parents’ old-fashioned radio was always turned on at the crack of dawn. When it was time for me to wake up and get ready for school, my father would turn the radio up high. I’d lie in bed listening to the same programming each morning – the national anthem, the Morning Minute from Norman Vincent Peale’s “The Power of Positive Thinking,” and The Lord’s Prayer. The latter was a soaring rendition sung by American tenor, Mario Lanza. I’d sink back under the covers, close my eyes and listen to his beautiful singing. By the time I was six or seven years old, I had memorized the Lord’s Prayer though I didn’t really understand it. As soon as that song ended, Daddy would blast the radio station’s “Morning March” loud to jolt me out of...

During the Aug. 13 outdoor service in Tower Grove Park, Pastor Travis preached and led a discussion about the closing phrase in the Lord’s Prayer, “deliver us from evil.” A key part of the discussion focused on how we envision evil. Do we chiefly see evil as the systems and forces that shape our actions, something akin to the “principalities and powers” that Paul writes about his letter to the Ephesians? Or is it more personalized, a specific adversary, “the evil one,” sometimes characterized as the devil or Satan? Both these are commonplace interpretations and the tension between the two has its roots in the translations favored by Western theology (systems) and the Eastern theology (a specific adversary). In the same week as I encountered this fascinating insight, I also cam across a wonderful folktale from the Buddhist tradition, which also helps to illuminate the phrase “deliver us from evil.” It gave me a entirely fresh way to think about the battle between good and evil. Some b...