Civility Message
Dear Friends,
As we go home for our summer break, let us please keep in mind that nothing can polarize congress and community but the belief in, and practice of, polarity politics. A little of the oil of civility in Congress will prevent a deluge of discord in the nation.
Dear Friends,
A young grade school boy wanted $100 to purchase some badly desired video games. After hearing his pastor's sermon cautioning that we must ask to receive, the young lad launched into action. He prayed, but after two days and no closer to $100, his impatience inspired him to write the Lord a letter in greater detail. Not knowing what to do with the letter, the local postmaster sent it to the congressional representative in Washington. The congressman received the letter from a staffer and with a soft heart, sent the boy a $5 bill.
Dear Friends,
You know what's strange? All, but roughly 30 to 50 members of the U.S. House of Representatives, would on any given day declare that we must struggle to discontinue the tribal politics that seems to have taken over our nation. I wholeheartedly agree with their assessment about the need to denuclearize Congress before we undermine and destabilize the country beyond repair.
September 27, 2017
Lately, I have been contemplating the President's response to numerous athletes' peaceful protests during the National Anthem. This is what I would have liked to hear him say:
My Fellow Americans,
Dear Friends,
Serving in the ministry has a benefit that goes unnoticed. Ministers must constantly read and collect, mentally, many ideas of the world's great thinkers. Although he was an agnostic, Omar Khayyam, the prolific Persian polymath and poet, offed what I consider to be one of the most majestic truths ever penned:
"The moving finger writes; and having writ, moves on: nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your fears wash out a word of it."
Dear Friends,
Let me begin by saying that I did not serve in the military. I was turned down by the draft board in Houston, Texas because of two debilitating football injuries. Nevertheless, I quite often seek stories from the military. They make very good illustrations for life.
Dear Friends,
Believe it or not, during my high school years, I was a squeaky tenor in the Harry T. Burleigh a cappella choir, named in honor of the African American composer, arranger, and baritone soloist. The director of the well synchronized choir was Mrs. Gwendolyn Jackson, an accomplished contralto in her own right. Mrs. Jackson use to tell us during rehearsals, "Boys and girls, if you can't hear the voice of the singers around you, it means that you are too loud."
Dear Friends,
During the seven years my family spent in public housing, my buddies and I had some of our greatest adventures in a wooded area we called “The Pasture.” We had an opportunity to play war and jungle games because there were unlimited hiding places and if we had a moment of bravery, we could cross the creek and never be found.
Perhaps our thrill was to sneak a potato, an egg or two, and a chunk of Spam from our parent’s kitchen and cook an extravagant omelet. The rich people never had something so good.