Poetry

Five Stages of Presbyterian Grief

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It’s been quite a day, participating in a vigorous interchange over the events in the Presbytery of Coastal Carolina and my blog post about it yesterday. I try to allot about 1½ hours to this blogging activity daily, but yesterday’s tally far exceeded that. Absent any new developments in the Coastal Carolina situation, I would like to step back and appreciate some of the Presbyterian reactions to the news that someone could fail to affirm the statement “Jesus Christ died on the cross to save people from their sin”: • Nah, it couldn’t have happened. It’s unthinkable! • Are you […]

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“Mending Wall” for Sunday Afternoon Reflection

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MENDING WALL Robert Frost Something there is that doesn’t love a wall, That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it, And spills the upper boulders in the sun, And makes gaps even two can pass abreast. The work of hunters is another thing: I have come after them and made repair Where they have left not one stone on a stone, But they would have the rabbit out of hiding, To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean, No one has seen them made or heard them made, But at spring mending-time we find them there. I let my neighbor know

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