St. Patrick Presbyterian Church, Epc

Seafaring stories have long captured the imagination, and the Bible is no different. People might appear like gods walking on the firmness of Earth, but put them in even the largest ship on the vastness of the ocean and suddenly they seem small. Even the hubris that surrounded the Titanic, the “unsinkable” ship, was found wanting against the uncontrollable forces of wind and wave.             So, of course, we find Paul caught up in a seafaring tale that includes a harrowing dance with death and a dramatic shipwreck. From a literary perspective, Acts 27 is gripping—you can feel the hurricane-like wind that rips them from the safety of the lee side of the island and sets them adrift in the wine-darkened sea, heading helplessly into only God knows where. You can see panicked sailors scrambling up the mast to reef the mainsail, lash cables around the beam, and drop sea anchors into the water to keep the ship from running too fast with the waves. You can feel a ship that is doomed. It feels like something I have

I’m sure you can imagine that church staffers have a general idea of what kind of crowd to anticipate on any given Sunday. Factors like civic holidays and weather have a way of establishing predictable patterns in large groups of people. But those arrangements have experienced a bit of a shakeup, especially over the past five or so years. Historically Mothers’ Day would see a bump in worship attendance, as diligent children and husbands honor the wishes of their pious matriarchs. This year? I really don’t know if that’s a thing we can count on anymore. And I don’t think COVID is to blame – it only accelerated something that’s been going on for about 30 years now.  Yesterday I listened to a podcast entitled “Who Are the De-churched in America and Why Did They Leave?” The sociologists leading the discussion begin with a startling piece of data: thirty to fifty million Americans used to go to church but no longer do. Meaning, we are in the middle of the greatest religious affiliation shift in US history. The lar

CitizenshipThe tension we face as believers in Jesus is that we have dual citizenship. Most of us here are citizens of the United States of America. And yet, as believers in Jesus Christ, we have citizenship in God’s new people. Christians are spoken of as a new people, a new nation. If you don’t see the tension here… well, I am at a loss. Increasingly, we feel this tension in our bones and imagination.             The easiest thing to do to try to ease the tension is to either withdraw from the world — and this has been done in every generation since Jesus. Rather than be corrupted by the kingdoms of this world we move geographically away. Or we assimilate into our earthly citizenship and adopt its ethics, ethos, and machinations. And yet…            The place Paul finds himself this week is with firm solidarity within his Roman citizenship. Over and over, he appeals to it. The question I keep asking myself, after living in the book of Acts since last August, is why so much time is spent on the five trials o

When I am going on trips, as I am today, the first thing I do is to check out the local VRBO’s and Airbnb’s. I am looking for certain amenities and, of course, a killer deal. If it is for more than one day, it has to have good reviews. That is first and foremost to the savvy traveler. Then I search the posted photos for grills, places to linger (both outside and in), and the kitchen. Since this was an overnight trip with other guys from the church for a Presbytery meeting, it was mandatory that everyone have their own bed. (I don’t do double bunking!) Now obviously, when it is just my bride and me, the priorities are somewhat different. Paul, for most of his missionary life, depended on hospitality. He just stayed with folk he met in the towns where he was sharing the gospel. I don’t know about you, but that sounds a little creepy to me. I have been on mission trips where we did this, and I do have stories to tell. However, we are in the part of Paul’s story where, if I were him, even the poorest offer of hos

It is an old saying and has passed into cliché perhaps, but we use it often to describe the feeling of finding ourselves in a situation in which there appears to be no escape. In The Odyssey, Homer captures this for our imaginations when Odysseus, in order to get home, has to navigate his ship through the narrow Strait of Messina. The problem is that on one side of the strait is Scylla, a monster with six heads mounted on long necks, each mouth filled with razor sharp teeth…and she is always hungry! On the other side of the strait, just a bow shot away, is Charybdis, a deadly whirlpool which will swallow a ship whole. To be caught “between Scylla and Charybdis" is to find yourself in an impossible situation with a bad outcome any way you turn.            In our narrative this week, Paul finds himself is such a situation. On the one hand, his own people want to assassinate him; and, on the other hand, he is at the mercy of the oppressors of his people—Rome. Is God in this? Are there words of comfort for Paul?

View this email in your browserYour Testimony About MeI spent this past week with a few close fellow pastors studying the theology of wine. Yes, you read that right. My friends and I were awarded a grant that has enabled us to explore the ordinary elements of the Lord’s Supper and how they inform a life of feasting. We’re not only investigating bread and wine in their historical near eastern context, but also the physical cultural implications of these today. Does it “matter” what wine or bread we use? What about the process undertaken to produce them? How locally sourced they are? Is there something uniquely profound about the choice Jesus made to use bread and wine, or could he have used popcorn and beer?  One of the things I’ve explored in this study is the tradition and nature of a drink offering. As far back as Genesis 35 we see Jacob pour out a drink offering as his first act after being renamed Israel. Remember, this happened at Bethel, just after his strange dream of a ladder to heaven. But a veil-pie

This Sunday is Easter and, I don’t know about you, but I am ready. Forty days is a long time of waiting! Lent has been a death this year in many ways. It is not that the world is actually worse than it ever was, it is that we know everything bad happening in the world as it is happening. So it is a good thing that, in the midst of darkness, we are reminded of light and hope! That is the purpose of Holy Days after all, is it not? I mean, we celebrate Easter every Sunday, that is true, but setting aside one day to really gild the Lilly, dress to the nines, host elaborate feasts at our scattered tables, and invite people in who don’t have family––that is as it should be and a necessary reminder to us humans who, because of the ordinariness of each Sunday, tend to lose the wonder of the whole meaning of Resurrection! As it is a special day, one hopes to craft something that is well-suited for such a day. But how does one rise to the occasion of this subject? Words just seem too cheap! And, low and behold, our tex

Palm Sunday! Yes, we have arrived at the last week of Lent and thus the beginning of Holy Week. One of the things that, through the ages, people have tried to do is separate Jesus from the Cross. What I mean by that is, Jesus is acceptable as a great teacher, or a miracle worker, or revolutionary; but Jesus as a savior––as in, the cross has saving virtue––that is too much. Gandhi says as much in his assessment of Jesus:  I could accept Jesus as a martyr, and embodiment of sacrifice, and a divine teacher. His death on the cross was a great example to the world, but that there was anything like a mysterious or miraculous virtue in it, my heart could not accept.” (Gandhi, An Autobiography) Paul knew this too, and that is why he said the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing. He goes on to say, Christ crucified is a stumbling block to the Jews and folly to the Gentiles. (From I Corinthians 1)  And yet, as we follow Paul in the last fifth of the book of Acts, it is not his belief in Jesus as some g

View this email in your browserFood for the Journey“Man is a hungry being.” Thus, the great Orthodox theologian, Alexander Schmemann begins his book, For the Life of the World. He is trying to destroy both the those who spiritualize the material world and also those who see the material world as all there is. He goes to Genesis for this and looks at Adam, born with hunger—he has to eat to live. But he is also hungry for something more—someone like him to share the bread with. Indeed, we are born into this world screaming, both for food and affection.             This week we see Paul hungry, as well. We are not used to that, some might even think that unseemly or demeaning. Paul is the leader; he started the church-planting movement that, centuries later, St. Patrick finds itself a part of. He is controlled, effective, focused, and gets it done. We don’t think of Paul as, well, “needy.” And yet for seventeen verses in our text, we see Paul not ministering to, but being ministered to! He is hungry, ravenous. H

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! It is a shame it comes during our Spring Break Week…cooking corned beef for hundreds would be a blast! Oh well, such are the accidents of history. Speaking of Spring Break, Teri, Addy and I just got back in town a couple of days ago. We are glad to be out of the grind for a few days, as I am sure most of you are as well.             Anyway, we are back to Acts this Sunday, where we encounter the strangest thing – a passage about a boy falling asleep in church, along with a moving passage about Paul's charge to church leaders. As you know from last week, Paul is heading to Jerusalem but he goes north instead of south and revisits churches he has started, to encourage and strengthen them. Why? Well, because what happens between beginning in the Christian life and becoming a thriving disciple in Jesus has a lot to do with the kind of places we often find ourselves.             So, we will look at it this Sunday. Are we in the kind of place that will help us become more like Jesus? That i

Start a RiotEvery time we do something “feasty” at St. Patrick, I inevitably hear someone say something like, “This is amazing; we should do this more often.” I love that response so much. This weekend, when it came up around the fire pits of the Men’s Retreat, I told the fellas that I personally do this all the time. They were a bit surprised, but it’s true. For one thing, the guys in my community group get together for “Smoking Club” several times a semester. Now, this is not a church program. It wasn’t my idea, I don’t have anything to do with organizing it, and it happens whether I can make it or not. A couple of our guys just caught the vision for gathering around fires for better food and deeper fellowship, and they started living it out for themselves. They didn’t ask permission; they didn’t wait for me to plan an official church event; they just set the table and extended invitations. Let me ground this in the Text.  Not long before the first Temple of Artemis was built at Ephesus, (more on that this

Jim and I were just gearing up to feed a couple of packed-out lodges full of men this weekend at our Men’s Retreat. Part of the rationale for this gathering is what we sometimes call “subverting suburbia.” If suburban food is efficient, this is going to be decadent. If suburban schedules are hectic, this is going to be slow. If suburban relationships are competitive, these are going to be gracious. Why? Because we believe the gospel tells a better story than the world does about what it means to be a man who can thrive and become a blessing to those around him. Part of what makes that story so good is that it’s told not merely in Word but at Table. We’re going to taste and see something otherworldly. I’ve thought a lot this week about the danger wounded men pose to a community. For example, this Sunday we’re also resuming our Narnia book club with Prince Caspian. Talk about the potential for damage! In that story we see kingdoms at war, and not just two, but as many as six kings interacting with one another:

Much has been written about how believers relate to the culture around them. Some look at the culture and say, “It is so evil, we will just withdraw.” Others tire of the tension between what God says is true and what the culture says is true, and so they just assimilate into it. Some look at the culture and are so furious they speak about it with either condescension or disgust. Then there are those who look at the culture and see much beauty in it; they are angry at the marred image, but long to see human thriving everywhere and, in compassion, seek to contend for the faith. How we see ourselves relating to the prevailing culture and thought modes around us will affect our posture toward it and will also inform our mission to the world. This week, we move from synagogue to market place, where we see Paul at Mars Hill. One thing about it, Paul marches into the center of cultural influence and plants the cross of Jesus right in the middle of it. How he meets and contends for the truth that he knows in Jesus is

My mind was everywhere this morning. Teri and I were checking in this morning over breakfast about times for the Mardi Gras Feast at the church tonight; I was calling out spelling words to Addy while cooking sausage, pancakes and biscuits; and I was mentally going over the various places and tasks I had to do. Two were primary: pondering God’s work in Philippi and what story that new church there must be telling, and the three bottles of passion fruit syrup that I set out to put in my car to be part of a liturgy I would enact later to tell a story of deliciousness!  When I stepped outside, it was to a world of glory. Against the backdrop of a bleak and overcast winter day that is trying to push back what all nature is telling me—that spring is on its way—it was snowing! I pondered to myself as Addy opened the door for Piper to jump in—even nature is telling a story, and how glorious that I get to not only have a front row seat to watch it play out, but I get to participate in it. In Paul’s second missionary j

The Ministry of the CrossI was in my study on Wednesday afternoon, pondering a sermon for Sunday and a vision talk that night, as well as what time I needed to be home to prepare the chicken for the grill, when I got a knock on my door. It was one of our ministry partners—one who is more than a partner, she is a beloved friend. We hadn’t had a chance to catch up since we’d wept together after she got the news some members of her church were killed in a plane crash. After a warm embrace, I told her to come in and have a seat. We exchanged pleasantries and talked about ministry and, after listening to her talk of all the challenges and brokenness she faced in her ministry, I said, “It is just bewildering, isn’t it?” She said, “Yes, it really is; and oftentimes, you just don’t even know what to do or if there is even a fix.”  My head was already spinning from our text this week and, after looking at the three episodes we will talk about Sunday, I too was just baffled at how difficult ministry really is. Our text

Are all cultures equal?  This feels like an insane question to pose, given the landmines of offense that could be possibly taken. (And if there’s one thing that defines our culture, it’s quickness to take offense!) Yet, in a pluralistic world like ours, it’s also an important thing to consider. Put another way, how do I love my neighbors with regard to differences in the stories we tell about ourselves?  One might start with Paul’s declaration to the Galatians that “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female.” Now, no one can conclude that Paul believed there weren’t actual important differences in these distinctions. In his other writings, we see that to be free is better than slavery. To be raised in a covenant home under the Torah is beneficial for cultivating righteousness. A man simply cannot be a mother. These were undeniably Paul’s positions on such issues. So, what does he mean when he implies that they don’t matter? Well, he of course refers to their

The church is the easiest thing in the world to cast dispersions on. Of course, it is! Why are we surprised? After all, it is the only institution in the world where you have to vow you are not qualified to gain admission. I have joined all manner of organizations in my life—Country Clubs, Rotary Club, a couple of Chambers of Commerce, etc. Everyone wanted a resume to see if I was essentially good enough, or the right caliber of person, to affiliate. And low and behold, to gain entrance into the church, you have to admit you are not worthy. So, of course, the church is easy to disparage.  However, as wayward and often wandering as she maybe—God loves the church! He calls it his bride and even died rather than lose her. As someone said, “the church is God’s plan A and there is no plan B.” This week we see Paul’s missionary impulse was not just to preach the gospel and see people converted, but to place them in covenant families. He actually goes back to places that had cast him out, vilified him, and even ston