Always Reforming

20 years? Can it be true? Has it really been 20 years Since we lost you? I was just a kid, Sometimes I feel like I still am, I lost you just as I was becoming a man, I think about the scar, Where they cut your body open, Christmas 2003 Left so many hearts broken. 20 years? How can it be? Has it really been  20 years Since you left me? I was just a boy, When those paramedics came through, I've known pain and loss, But I never really knew you, I remember the night,  I heard the shadow was winning, Your pain was over, But ours was just beginning. 20 years? How can it be? Has it really been 20 years Since you were set free? Remember the good times , They always say, But when I think of you,  I think of Flashing lights, And Crippled limbs, Extended hospital stays, And  A cemetery down the road. 20 years? How can it be? Has it really been  20 years Since you left me?

The world was shocked, though many conservative Christians were unsurprised, by Pope Francis's latest foray into Progressivism .  His proclamation, which allows Roman Catholic priests to bless LGBTQ couples, met with equal parts rejoicing and decrying.  Regardless of your persuasion, this seems like a significant historical moment, one which is sure to have rippling effects for years to come. Now, before we go any further, let me clarify one thing: there is a difference between offering a blessing upon a gay couple and solemnizing a gay marriage.  This difference is theologically significant, though it ends up being practically less significant than many Roman Catholics would claim.  Any time that spiritual leaders allow people to feel comfortable in their sin, they are derelict of their duty and are putting souls in risk of eternal judgement.  Whatever a blessing might mean, this feels like the first step towards the inevitable goal of allowing priests to marry gay couples.  It sh

The liturgical season known as Advent is designed to remind Christians that we are defined by not one, but two, Advents. We celebrate the first Advent of Christ. We await the Second. The first has happened--it is a historical reality.  The Son, the Second Person of the Triune Godhead, took on human flesh and was born of a Virgin.  He is Immanuel--God with us.   This event occurred at a specific time in a specific place, which we in the West have chosen to celebrate on the 25th day of December each year. But this Advent--this Coming--only has meaning in relation to the Second Advent.  Christmas is incomplete, useless even, without Consummation.  The sweet babe in the manger, so tender and mild, can offer you no benefit unless you submit to Him as your returning Lord.  Advent is a season of hope and expectation, but only for those who wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ. We celebrate Advent as Christians--Christ followers--because these two historical events, one past and

Car wrecks and  Nose bleeds and Unforeseen Diagnoses, Life has a way of Showing us Who we are And Who we are not. Each sunrise, Each sunset, Draws us closer To our final breath, Life offers These little Reminders To let go.

Perhaps the greatest lie perpetuated by Liberalism is that opposition to government involvement in a cause is opposition to that cause per se. You oppose government involvement in welfare?  You want poor people to starve! You oppose government involvement in education?  You want poor kids to be illiterate! You oppose government involvement in healthcare?  You want poor people to die because they can't afford insulin or antibiotics! And so on and so forth... Unfortunately, most Americans can no longer imagine a world where anything is accomplished at all without government involvement. Let me assure you that those of us who favor small government are, in fact, in favor of poor people eating, reading, and receiving medical treatment.  Many of us are, of course, the very poor people Liberals claim to want to help.  We recognize, however, that government agencies, especially those at the Federal level, are bloated bureaucracies that are unable to accomplish any goal efficiently.   Exhi

Originally published on 8/30/13. Is this me?  Or is this An attempt at achieving potential? The room for growth is nothing Short of exponential. I'm seeking to establish an Identity and personality, One crafted by idealism, But based in reality. I may look like I'm doing fine, But it's a mirage, at best, Remember, even wounds Can be well dressed.

I have been mostly trying to avoid thinking or posting about politics lately.  Let's just say I was really jaded by the vitriol and propaganda from both sides during the COVID years.  However, a special election in August with only one issue on the ballot was enough to peak my interest, so I've been doing my due diligence and mulling over Issue 1.  Here are 5 thoughts on Issue 1. Firstly, my initial reaction when reading the actual language of the proposed amendment was Meh .  As voracious as both sides have been, this issue is hardly as black and white as they're making it to be.  I am leaning a certain way, but I can see the validity to both sides of the debate. Secondly, the fact that Progressives really, really want me to vote No makes we want to vote Yes .  I generally avoid defining myself by what I oppose, but occasionally the most convincing argument in favor of a proposition is the people who are threatened by it.  In fact, before I knew anything at all about Issu

It's never easy to lose a loved one.  Whether he is young or old, terminally ill or in the prime of his life, there is always pain.  There is always a void. That being granted, one of the most underappreciated gifts is the opportunity to say goodbye.   I never had the opportunity to say goodbye to Mom. Not really. I was at the theater watching The Return of the King the night she choked and had to be resuscitated.  She was never conscious again.   She lay in that hospital bed as we wondered about the future.  The machines kept her blood circulating and we gave her permission to find her rest. We may have said our goodbyes, but I don't think she heard them.  If she heard them, she couldn't reply. We never dreamt we would lose our father as suddenly, indeed, more suddenly, than we had our mother. Mom had been sick most of my childhood.  Dad had always been relatively healthy. Mom had suffered a stroke--not her first--about a year before she passed.  Dad chronically minimized

If you have interacted with me on social media, you know that I have always been outspoken on the issue of Paedocommunion .  It is a theological position and a liturgical practice about which I am passionate.  Having been raised, and having raised my children, at the Table, I cannot imagine attending a church that didn't allow PC.  I hope that when I am old and gray, I will still be an advocate for bringing little children to the Sacrament. Throughout the 12 years that I have had this blog, I have written scattered thoughts on the topic, but it appears that I have never written a concise summary of my reasons for affirming PC.  I was thoroughly convinced that I had, but I can't seem to locate it, so I guess I never did.  So, to rectify the omission, here are four reasons I hold to PC. 1) Paedocommunion is Biblical.   Any discussion of the topic should start here, and I would hope that both sides of the debate would make this assertion.  However, let me clarify what I mean when

The older I get, the more I lean into orthodoxy.  As a general rule, I am wary when I hear the terms cutting-edge , novel , groundbreaking , or progressive applied to theology. Orthodoxy is objective.   Orthodoxy is bigger than me .   Orthodoxy is a standard outside of myself--my weaknesses, my blind spots, my biases--to which my theology conforms. Orthodoxy is stable. Orthodoxy is an anchor that keeps us from this tossing about with every  wave of doctrine .  Theology has an unfortunate tendency to adapt, both to the culture around us and to the storm within us.  We too often import current cultural values into Christianity because we don't want to be out of touch or old-fashioned.   We also allow our personal experiences--triumphs and failures, successes and hardships--to color the way we view God and interpret His Word.   We believe what we want to believe. We are masters of self-deception--we can convince ourselves of anything.  Our reason follows after our desires like a p

Companion, confidante, friend and lover, Schoolteacher, counselor, wife and mother, How can one woman fill so many roles? How can one human support all these souls? Stunning and sexy, so sugary sweet, Caring, passionate, the package complete, How one look, one expression, means so much! How, twelve years later, I still crave your touch! Who would I be?  Where, pray tell, would I go? I would be lost--guideless--without your glow, You are the sun around which our solar System revolves; your presence is polar, You are my gravity; you are, in truth, The heart of my home, the wife of my youth.

Originally written 3/6/14. The place I once called home I call home once again, I do believe it's the best place I've ever been. Oh, the ironies of life never cease to amaze me, Spencers and Marlboro seem to have some history. Marlboro, Ohio is unextraordinary, But it's as good a place as any to be happy. Back in Marlborough we were dukes and royalty, Here we're just citizens--happy to be free. Marlboro doesn't have anyone like a William Golding, But we've got fun and friends and hands for holding. Marlborough has those roads as wide as any you'll see, Back home we just hope to avoid potholes and tragedy. There's something about that small-town sort of charm, The scenery, the simplicity, the sounds and smells of the farm. Look how far we've come, and, yet, everything is pretty much the same, We've just dropped a couple of letters from our name.

This poem was original written on 4/17/15. Witnessing the miracle of life Conjures memories of my own birth, Holding my little girl reminds me Of the woman who used to hold me. When I think of her, I think of the Scars that have come to define our lives, Two cuts that have shaped our family, And changed the course of our history. Down her chest, where they tore her open, Down her belly, where they cut us out, I wonder how different life would be If she never went under the knife. Would we be a happy family? Would I be anything like myself? All I know is, nothing has shaped me As extensively as her two scars.

Honey, I didn't forget our anniversary--I celebrate it every day! Preposterous, right?  Well, that's what you sound like when you suggest that celebrating the Resurrection on Easter somehow detracts from or contradicts a weekly or daily remembrance thereof. In the Anglican Communion every Sunday is technically a feast day, and rightfully so.  The Lord's Day is the day on which we celebrate our risen Lord by gathering with His body for Word and Sacrament.  Once a year, however, we, along with the majority of Christians for nearly two millennia, set aside a special day to commemorate the Resurrection in a special way.  We choose to focus on this one doctrine, this indispensable historical event, in a special way on that particular day. There is no conflict here.  There is no contradiction here.  There is absolutely no reason that celebrating something on a specific day should detract from our continued celebration of it throughout the year.  In fact, the annual celebration ou

Oh, most blessed of weeks, and holiest, And, yet, of all, most ignominious, Remember thorns, crowning His weary head, Remember scorn, marking the path He tread, Remember lies, bought by envy and pride,  Remember cries, Crucify!  Crucify! Remember fear, faithful friends scattering, Remember tears, Mary's heart shattering, Remember justice, meted upon sin, Remember darkness, without and within, Oh, most blessed of weeks, that freed our souls, That retrieved the lost and the sick made whole,  A body on a tree, a Lamb slaughtered, A veil rent; at peace, we pray, Our Father .

How's that for some clickbait! If you clicked on the link expecting a slide into Liberalism, I assure you, that is not the case.  My goal today is to demonstrate that following the Bible wherever it takes us , even into the murky waters of unorthodoxy, is not, in fact, the Reformed view.  In other words, the emphasis of the title falls on  wherever it takes us and not on  the Bible .  Having been raised in a Reformed community where Andrew Sandlin, Gary DeMar, and Ken Gentry were household names, it pains me to see controversy in their ranks, but controversy is often the cost of truth.   Gary DeMar , who has authored several books on the topic of Eschatology, has recently come under some heat for his refusal to affirm particular statements regarding the Second Coming and Final Judgment.  I will leave it to older and wiser men to discuss the veracity of the allegations leveled against DeMar (I personally don't see how his views are compatible with creedal orthodoxy, but DeMar

Naked, I lie prostrate before you, sins Exposed; I offer no mitigations, Humbly I submit my prayer, no excuse Enclosed; affectations would serve no use, Surely, self-righteous boasters, their merit Supposed, now have all they will inherit, Stricken men have naught to do but kneel, Self Deposed, to regain their abandoned health, Behold, the miracle of love!  Accounts Transposed; corpses resurrect at the fount, Rags, filthy, stripped from my back; with crimson Enrobed; above my brow a crown glistens, A rebel, a friend of serpents, sins now Disclosed, has been made a son, and how! The Great Exchange, places traded, my guilt Disposed; my Lord, do with me as Thou wilt.

Dust--thinking, speaking, acting Dust; mortal, fallen, failing Dust; lost, lonely, repulsive Dust; weak, depraved, explosive Dust; listless, broken, heaving Dust; dying, decayed, reeking Dust; spent, aimless, wavering  Dust; rent, carnal, wandering Dust; image-bearing, holy  Dust; called and redeemed, sacred Dust; 'Manuel, God became Dust to save and glorify Dust; resurrected, renewed  Dust; purchased, and yet, still dust.

I visit the cemetery, To remember where I came from, To remember where I'm going. I visit the cemetery, Quaint, yet familiar, Nostalgic, now familial. I visit the cemetery, To say hello, To say goodbye again. I visit the cemetery, So I don't forget you, So I can stop thinking about you. I visit the cemetery, Antiquated, yet new, Dilapidated, yet fresh. I visit the cemetery, To remember where I came from, To remember where I'm going.

You keep using that word.  I do not think it means what you think it means. Inigo was, of course, referring to Vizzini's obsessive use of the word inconceivable , but we could just as accurately apply his famous quip to modern usage of the word catholic .   The 21st Century has found many Protestants, including myself, yearning for a sense of catholicity, and rightfully so.  Some Protestant bodies are actively trying to pursue this, whether institutionally, by creating formal bonds with other bodies, or informally, by fostering organic relationships with other Christians in their communities.  Some Reformed groups are using the term Reformed Catholic , while others, such as Evangelicals and Liberals, tend to use the word  ecumenical , but the idea or goal is the same--to realize the connection to the universal Church described in the New Testament and the Creeds.  An increasingly large number, however, feel that the only way to achieve true catholicity is to become Catholic , that

A local Presbyterian church recently shared a Facebook post rejoicing that they had added several members to their rolls.  This is certainly a joyous occasion and I genuinely pray for the continued well-being and growth of their congregation.  I have great respect for their leadership and I count them as a faithful brethren, so I rejoice to see what God is doing in their midst. However...  Their phrasing caught my eye.  The caption stated that they had added a certain number of communing and non-communing members.  The paedocommunionist in me instantly flared up like a bad case of hives.  My wife and I, happening upon it at the same time, looked across the couch at each other with faces full of consternation.  A good friend of mine, who happens to be PC, as well, screenshot it and sent it to me, expressing the same gut-wrenching feeling.  We all had the same thought: What is a non-communing member?   Now, I know what a non-communing member is, grammatically speaking.  I am familiar

Originally written 1/19/16. Why is it so hard to say I love you ? After all, you already know that I do, Some things are presumed, but never expressed, Our grandparents told us that was best. Why is it so hard to share emotions? You are well aware of my devotion, We share blood, but not our inmost feelings, Unaware that silence is revealing. Why is it so hard to say I love you ? After all, I know that you know it's true, Those closest to us are often furthest, Why use words when words alone are worthless? Why is it so hard to bare our hearts? Familiarity keeps us apart, Can we overcome the precedent set? I'll keep trying, but it hasn't worked yet.

What is the Gospel ? That is such a simple question, and, yet, it has received so many different answers. The Evangelical American preaches the Gospel as the Good News that the blood of Jesus, shed on the Cross on that old rugged hill, cleanses us from the guilt of sin, allowing us to go to Heaven when we die. The Eastern Orthodox believer tells us that Gospel is all about Deification--God became man that man might become god. The Magisterium in Rome declares that the Gospel concerns prevenient grace offered in the Sacraments, which frees us from the guilt and power of sin. The Pentecostalist says, and rather boisterously, that the Gospel is all about the Holy Spirit mystically working in our lives. Others, like Anglican N.T. Wright, insist that the Gospel is the proclamation that the King has come and established His Kingdom. We could continue  ad nauseam  listing various denominations, traditions, and theologians and their unique perspectives, but, since I'm sure I have already

There's nothing quite like the death of a Pope to bring out the ugly side of some Reformed folks. In case you hadn't heard, Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, passed away  recently.  If you're friends on Facebook with a certain type of Presbyterian, you would have been informed by the gleeful declaration that another antichrist had been taken from the Earth.  No, I'm not joking...I had multiple Facebook friends confidently declaring, and reveling in the fact, that the deceased Pope is currently burning in the fires of Hell. Now, just to be clear, my view of the Roman Catholic Church is that it is a valid Christian tradition that has fallen into significant theological error (the same could, of course, be said about many or all Christian traditions).  I would not personally be comfortable joining a Roman Catholic parish.  However, I would also not be comfortable declaring that all members of that tradition are unsaved.  There is a huge difference between a Christian tradition