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Having written yesterday’s essay on my childhood Thanksgivings in Gaylord, my spirit was tugged to drive out to the little town on the plains before all of the holiday festivities got underway.  So I climbed in my vehicle and drove west. It was a gorgeous day, and memories of years ago came flooding back.  I…

For years, it was always the same.  Around 8:45 in the morning, we’d pile in the station wagon and head over to church, greeted there by a couple high school students dressed as pilgrims and playing snare drums.  Inside, our Congregationalist Meetinghouse was attended to by more pilgrims and a cadre of severe looking clergy…

Rev Dave writes, “Keep rocking the quadrilateral” Ha! +1 tripp! As a transplanted Methodist, I had a similar thought (and we were just this week teaching the quad to our Confirmation class). Though I wasn’t brought up in that tradition, it seems to me that the quadrilateral is the most honest depiction of how we…

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