Some weeks ago, the presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church, Katharine Jefferts Schori, preached at a Kansas City area church. So I went to the early service and, at the Communion rail, received the body and blood of Christ.

By doing much of its work off-site and online, the Multichannel Church challenges a longheld assumption, namely, the necessity of being together on Sunday.

The media have been full of stories and commentaries on the water landing of a US Airways passenger jet that resulted in no fatalities, and few serious injuries. Often, almost too often, the outcome of this potential mass tragedy has been proclaimed to be a miracle. One commentator said that the happy ending was the result of a series of small miracles.

I had been pondering it all summer, but it didn’t hit me full force until I saw it juxtaposed so starkly. There, lying on my nightstand, were two bookmarks. Not exactly earth shaking, I hear you say. True.

After a blood-gushing fight to the end, a 389-year-old U.S. monster perished Nov. 4, 2008.
     Yes, American slavery finally expired.
     Of course, in 1865, when most states ratified the 13th Amendment, Congress had declared it dead. Mississippi's legislature was the holdout, managing to delay ratification until 1995!

SAN FRANCISCO — In just a few weeks since the end of the218th General Assembly, it is safe to say that serving as moderator already has been an incredibly meaningful experience.

The initial reactions to the Authoritative Interpretation of G-6.0108 approved by the General Assembly in San Jose were dramatic. Some were rejoicing, others despairing, because they believed that the General Assembly, in approving the overture submitted by the John Knox Presbytery, had removed the impediment to the ordination of non-celibate gays and lesbians that had been declared by the General Assembly Permanent Judicial Commission in the case Bush v. Presbytery of Pittsburgh.

"Women Blaze an Interfaith Trail: Two teachers become first Jewish female and first Muslim female to receive advanced degrees from Catholic Theological Union," and "She's First Jewish Graduate of Catholic Theological Union" were headlines in The Chicago Tribune and The Chicago Sun-Times on May 15.

I stayed at the home of friends the night before Brent's funeral, in the hills on the north side of Pittsburgh, above the Ohio River. Unable to sleep, I listened to the lonely wail of trains on the tracks down below. Trains heading east slow down in this section, before heading over the trestle and into the city, their cars bumping into one another as the brakes are applied. Trains heading west pick up speed and their engines strain as they cut through the night, whistling at each crossing. 

In the middle of the night in a strange bed, I recalled sitting in Brent's living room late one evening. He had invited three of us over for dinner. Afterwards, we sat around the fireplace and talked late into the evening, catching up on each other's lives. Hours later, the conversation paused. Then a train came by, quieter than the others. "That's the Capitol Limited," Brent noted, "Chicago bound. You can tell by the sound, you don't have the clanging of the cars." Every time a train came through that night, I thought of Brent. 

©2007 John A. Lindquist II. Used by permission.

Ask this New Jersey born, east coast educated minister how he feels about life in the predominantly Mormon town of Ogden, Utah, and he'll tell you he is right where he is supposed to be. The Rev. Dr. Richard Paul Minnich is pastor of First Church, a congregation of more than 400 members. The gold brick building of First Church, nestled against the western bench of the Rocky Mountains, has been his home for 15-plus years.

His theological training and earlier pastorates were in the eastern states. After graduating from Princeton Theological Seminary with a Master of Divinity, he completed his Doctor of Ministry at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary in 1992. His first calling was assistant pastor of youth ministry at Westminster Church in Upper St. Clair, Pa. Five years later he was pastor to the Elizabeth, Pa.'s Round Hill Church. 

Do you ever think, "I've got to write this"? But other times, "I get to write this!" Sometimes duty takes over: Sunday's sermon, pastor's column deadline, insistent e-mails. How can we move through got to into get to?

During a writing funk, two things occurred to me. First, if I find bits of grace in the grit of duty, then obligation morphs into invitation. Second, even if my words get rejected, what matters is whether or not I've written myself an inch closer home to my true self and God.

Writing can help us appreciate ministry. Preaching, teaching, and soul tending extend an invitation to pen our way home and out into the world's need.

The death of the Rev. Bryan Clinton Childress of Willis, Va., on December 19, 2006, was not a surprise. He was, after all, 85 years old, and had been in poor health for some time.  His pastoral life, spent entirely in Appalachia, was not remarkable in terms of great achievements, but it was a sincere witness to Christ and the meaning of a life dedicated to him. 

I met Bryan nearly 50 years ago in Pendleton County, West Virginia. I was the summer student minister of a field of six preaching points in the area of Circleville and Seneca Rocks. My work was under the supervision of the Rev. Dale Jones, who gave devoted service to those churches and chapels before he returned to teaching the deaf at the school in Staunton, Va. Bryan came to conduct a revival at the Seneca Rocks Church, and I was present for several of the evenings he held forth in that beautiful stone church. I was sophisticated in those days, and wondered about this rather rough-hewn mountain man, who came with his accordion and uncultured voice to proclaim the Lord's message to the gathered folks.