Tuesday, January 8, 2013


It’s four o’clock in the morning, my wife and granddaughter asleep in the bedroom, this old man sacked out for the night in his recliner, his mind now having a conversation with itself, I suppose, something left unsaid in my last post. In talking to the Detention Center kids this weekend, I pointed to an old iced-tea commercial as an illustration of how to connect with the Spirit of God. The original ad portrayed a fellow, sweaty and hot, lifting a glass of that beverage to drink, its effect being such as to make him totally relaxed, enough to fall back into a pool of water. Even so, I suggested, when we are willing to surrender our humanity, to admit who and what we are to our Creator, there is a place where we also might simply fall back into the flow of His reality…. Sunday evening, then, my pastor would paint a different image of that event, picturing the merger occurring when we enter into a worship formed from an honest plea brought forth from the depths of our identity. The musical tone of such message was not restricted to any one culture as he, himself, attempted to demonstrate it manner, his own voice reflecting his Appalachian heritage, a sort of “back hill country wail” sung unto God. Both examples, it seems to me, are true; and neither were given with any intent to teach a method guaranteeing success, the Holy Ghost certainly not bound by any of our formulas. The merger occurs through grace, His wisdom dictating the whole affair; but I believe people need to know that such experience is possible, much of Christianity having lost that part of the promise along the way, others disappointed after learning that trying to reproduce it out of our own making leaves one with nothing more than sand. To each of us, our own encounter, of course; but, without one, what do we possess other than religion?.....


  1. One of my favorite movies is Oh Brother Where Art Thou for many reasons but especially because of the music.

    "his own voice reflecting his Appalachian heritage, a sort of “back hill country wail” sung unto God"

    With my eyes closed, I can almost hear it; must be wonderful to be there.

    1. My church, like any other, has its share of faults. The body is composed of peope and I are one. We have always been blessed, however, with much musical talent, not just in the sense of a good voice and instrumental skills, but more than that a heritage brought down to us wherein, at times, the Spirit and the singer, the fellow at the piano, all become one, then anointing then overflowing into the congregation. I do not go for a program, but perchance to once again step into that stream with others....