Category Archives: Community Concerns

Sermon in the Streets

Supply preaching is a strange phenomenon, but I gladly provide the supply myself. I have decent tolerance for strange situations, and I’ll include last weekend in that. I was supply preaching at a former church of mine, the one where I’d served as Intern and then Summer Minister, the same church that later became my ordaining congregation. I have a great fondness for it still. It’s located in midtown Manhattan, a place rarely crowded on a Sunday in summer. Unless – and this is a considerable exception to that generality – that Sunday comes at the end of June, when the Gay Pride Parade marches down Fifth Avenue.

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Praying for Good Weather

Recently, I spent the weekend at a remote retreat center in the Jersey Pine Barrens, where a small convocation was holding its annual meeting. The accommodations were fairly rustic, but hardly anyone grumbled since the weather there was so great. Because the weather is a nice place to start any conversation, I commented on how lovely it was to the center director.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” she said. “You know, I prayed for good weather!”

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A Sinner in Macy’s

At an intimate dinner party some while ago, close friends and I were discussing the trials of city living, common enough in a number of locales but especially troublesome here in New York. New Yorkers recognize how easily their nerves can get frayed, and I am no exception. Over dinner, I recounted a particularly illustrative incident involving another woman and myself in an express elevator at Macy’s in Herald Square. She behaved quite badly when she got in, but I think I evened the score by behaving pretty badly in response. It was not a pleasant ride for anyone headed to the top floors, least of all me.

In a confessional mood, I told my friends, “Ah, well – I’m just a sinner. We’re all sinners.” Continue reading

Open the Doors!

Not too long ago, our health-care insurance company sent us an upbeat notice stating that our family was now eligible to fill our prescriptions through mail, a switch that would presumably save them and us some money. We could circumvent the drugstore altogether. This was presented as terrific news. When my husband handed the notice to me, after a quick glance, I dropped the notice as though its paper were laced with carbolic acid and started sputtering. “What? Why?” I demanded. “I don’t want to do this. Why would I ever want to do this?” Continue reading