​Everybody knows this Saturday’s the 20th Anniversary of 9/11. The greatest tragedy ever to strike our country. Literally, the crime of the century right here on our own soil! Right here in our front yard.

This generation’s Pearl Harbor. Not some distant island paradise—a fuel stop in the Pacific ocean. Hawaii wasn’t even a state yet. It was outrageous! A totally unprovoked attack with tragic American casualties. And, the United States—who wasn’t ever gonna do it again—the United States entered World War II. 

But, 9/11? This time it is different, isn’t it?  Mainland America has been attacked and now we’re fighting a whole different kind of war. Half-way around the world and right here at home.  

Some of those terrorists did flight training in my home state of Oklahoma! Are you kidding me?

Everybody remembers where they were, what they were doing, who they were with and how they reacted on that Tuesday morning. Everybody is still stung, still grieving for those we lost. Everybody here knows somebody, has some connection. 

Not gonna lie—time has helped and I’m trying, but I’m still bitter about it. Still struggling and maybe you are too! It’s frustrating!

It’s not just the tremendous loss of life that day. The innocence of the victims, the crews and passengers on the planes, the World Trade Center, The Pentagon, Shanksville, Pennsylvania. The first responders trying to get people out unaware the buildings were going to collapse. It still breaks my heart every time I hear Bruce Springsteen “The Rising.” 

So, we’re finally out of Afghanistan—with even more casualties of the seemingly endless “war on terror” that really went nowhere. The pull out was never going to be easy or smooth, no matter what. It just underscores the high price that our soldiers and their families paid—for what?

It breaks my heart!
Sadaam Hussein is gone. Do you feel safer? 
We got Osama Bin Laden. Do you feel safer? 
We tortured prisoners at Guantanamo Bay! Do you feel safer? 
We instituted travel bans on Muslims. Do you feel safer?
We built more walls on the southern border. Do you feel safer?

20 years ago, this country came together. We were really the United States, right? United States of America! But, not anymore! 

9/11 and the fall-out, racism, the pandemic, and polarizing politics have split us apart. It runs so much deeper than party lines—the chasms—and there are many. We can’t even come together and fight the pandemic together. 

C’mon! It’s been 20 years now—and the divide has never been wider. How do we move forward? 

I’ve always been a big Eagles fan—you know, Don Henley is a great songwriter. And one of his songs is called the Heart of the Matter. 

As I sit and ruminate on 9/11 and everything since, that song just keeps running through my head over and over. I can’t get it out. It’s about lost love and damaged relationships. But these words ring so true:

I'm learning to live without you now
But I miss you sometimes
The more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I knew, I'm learning again
I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
These times are so uncertain
There's a yearning undefined
...People filled with rage
We all need a little tenderness

How can love survive in such a graceless age?
The trust and self-assurance that can lead to happiness
They're the very things we kill, I guess
Better put it all behind you; life goes on…
You keep carryin' that anger, it'll eat you up inside
I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But everything changes
And my friends seem to scatter
But I think it's about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore.

Forgiveness. That’s how we move forward. As hard as that is. Don Henley is right. Gotta put it all behind. If we keep carrying this anger, it’s eating us up—from the inside out. 
It will destroy us. 

So I’m trying—still.
And I pray that you are, too.
Grace & Peace,
Scott

From my heart friends—thank you.            
 
My brother John died last week of liver failure related to alcohol.
 
While his passing wasn’t unexpected, it’s never easy for anybody. Our friends, my parents, my siblings all came back together to hang out and tell stories. Fun with each other through the bittersweet tears of grief and joy. Pictures, videos, stories.
 
John didn’t want a service—but we were all determined to be together anyway. Too bad, so sad, man. We had to.
 
Thank you for your understanding of my last-minute trips to Oklahoma these past few weeks to spend as much time with him as possible before he was gone. And then to laugh, cry, and tell a few stories with the best of them. Thank you so much!
 
My brother John was a piece of work! In the best sense of that, a real character. Rock & roll radio DJ, concert and community event planner and promoter, project manager. John was a “get-er-done” guy!
 
I used to joke that just his Rolodex—okay, a dated reference—just the contacts in his phone were worth tens of thousands on somebody’s payroll. You know that kind of person. John knew everybody.
 
No strangers in John’s world. He would do anything for you. Anything. He worked hard. He played harder!

He played so hard it killed him.
You all—to a person—you all would have loved him.
 
Thank you for your prayers, for the texts, and calls. Thank you for caring for me as much as I care for you. This is who we are, and I thank you. I thank God for all of you.
 
If you’re struggling with drink or anything, you’ve got people. Right here, right now.
We’re here for you. I’m here for you. Whatever we can do to help. I will.
As John would say, “Ain’t no thing chicken wing!”
It’s what we do.
 
Grace & Peace,
Scott
 
 

When he returned to Capernaum after some days, it was reported that he was at home. So many gathered around that there was no longer room for them, not even in front of the door; and he was speaking the word to them. Then some people came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. And when they could not bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him; and after having dug through it, they let down the mat on which the paralytic lay. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”  — From Mark 2 (NRSV)

I’m at the church early on Tuesday mornings and I am startled by a big jolt to the Community House around 7:30 today.

Boom, boom, thump, step, step, step. There is a huge ruckus on the roof! I jump up from the desk and head to the front door—blocked by a big piece of plywood. I look out the windows and other big pieces of plywood surround the building to protect the windows. Big tarps hang off the side of the building. All this in a matter of a few minutes.

There’s a whole team!
The roofing guys are here! 
Digging through the roof. 

Maybe some of them are trying to get to Jesus—and I appreciate that. Can’t help but think of this story from Mark. But I know they are digging through the roof on the Community House to replace it. 

It’s all a part of the plan. The last roof replacements took place in the 90's when preparing for our 250th Anniversary in 1997. (thanks for the history, Steve!) 

I’m sure some of you are aware that both roofs have been leaking at some point for years now. We’ve done some stopgap repairs in those years that made things better, but obviously we were just putting off the inevitable replacement. We even prayed to dodge a bullet with the massive rainfall over the last couple days from Hurricane Henri (if you speak French, you know and understand how to say that right.) But, dodge the bullet we did not!

They were supposed to start the roofing project yesterday and ended up calling the day a rain-out because it was expected to rain all day Monday. Didn’t turn out to be so—yet, it still rained so much all day and night Sunday, and half of yesterday. It rained enough that the waters came digging through the roof (again) all on their own before the repair work even began!

No, I do not suspect the rain water is living water digging its way through the roof to get to Jesus. That’s not even a good dad joke. And I never thought about building a boat—another bad dad joke. My kids will be mortified if they read this!

Nevertheless, I do think the contractors are digging through the roof so people can get to Jesus. A new roof ensures that the Fairmount Presbyterian Church Community House will live to get people to Jesus for the next generation. It’s part of the plan.

So be watching your inbox and mailbox for communication from session about the mini-capital campaign we’re doing to finance it. We need your help with this. Can’t do it without you. We’ve just gotta!

We’re not the first, and we won’t be the last--
Digging through the roof to get people to Jesus. 
Call me crazy, but it’s what we do.

Peace,
Scott

The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while." For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. — From Mark 6 (NRSV)         
 
We’ve taken a little left-turn off the Gospel track of Mark this year to John Chapter 6. This Sunday is the last of the 5 weeks on the Bread of Life. It’s deep and it’s dense. It’s John’s Gospel. Very strange metaphorical images. Some really challenging things come from Jesus in this Gospel. Remember, the Gospels teach us about Jesus. And Jesus teaches us about God.
 
But timing-wise in summer, we miss some things from Mark’s Gospel by taking the little John detour. Mark is more direct than John.
 
Even Jesus knows the need for summer vacation. But, if you remember in Mark’s story, the disciples and Jesus don’t get any rest. The crowds see them going and rush and hurry to beat them to their destination. And we’re not talking about a small crowd. It’s 5000 plus the women and children. No small thing as we’ve learned in John 6.
 
It might be tempting to say that Jesus and the disciples aren’t very good at enforcing their boundaries, but that’s a modern construct. Just like we can’t pick up the Bible stories and drop them in our current times applying them literally. That’s problematic. We also can’t take our modern values and impose them on the stories in Jesus’ time, either.
 
But it’s still clear that Jesus often tries to find moments of peace to pray, think, listen, and be still. We can find many instances in all the Gospels. That’s an important example to follow. We do need moments of peace to find clarity of thought and purpose, especially now. Otherwise the white noise and clutter of our world distracts us.
 
If you’re anything like me, it takes days in a row to really unplug, right? Like it’s my experience that if I’m taking a week off, it takes until at least the third day before my shoulders completely droop in relaxation. I hope it’s less time for you! After that, it’s easy to chill especially if I’m in one of the places where I feel closest to God—beach or mountains, thank you very much! This year, my vacation is coming way late—the last two weeks in September. I’m praying hard that travel restrictions don’t come back.
 
Going on vacation feels to me like it did when I was still in school with the whole summer ahead. Remember what that is like? That’s what freedom feels like, I guess. I don’t know how else I would explain that, but I know this: it’s amazing!
 
So I continue to wonder if we can capture that feeling year round in moments of peace and tranquility with God. Can we find space in the calendar and a literal space to be in our world where we can grab a piece of the peace? Even for a little bit?
 
Maybe it’s at lunchtime. Get out of the house—get away from Zoom. Find the shade of a big tree for a few minutes in the car. I see people doing this all the time. Cops, mail carriers, electricians, UPS drivers. You get the idea. I can’t be sure they’re spending their time listening for God, but at least they seem to be at peace. An old friend of mine calls these “little vacations.” The Spirit will move on its own, no doubt.
           
“Holy God, open our lens to see you and be with you even in small time bites. We’ll take all the little vacations we can get! Let our souls and spirits fly into your mystic.* Let your Spirit come. Amen!”
 
Grace and Peace, 
Scott
 
*Van Morrison, thank you for the image!
 

​You may know by now that I read Richard Rohr every day. I’ll spell out the links at the bottom for those of you who get this on paper via snail mail. Father Richard is just part of my routine. Every. Day. I love the guy.
 
He always loops key partners into the conversation. People like Jacqui Lewis, my lead mentor in my doctoral program at Drew. Thomas Merton. He pulls in staff members from his Center for Action and Contemplation. It’s always great.
 
So, Saturday’s Richard is always a re-cap of the previous week. A couple-three lines from each day Monday through Friday and then—he usually focuses on a practice. A couple Saturdays ago, the practice was Stillness.
 
Stillness is something I really have to work at. I’m sure you can imagine. I have to focus.
 
Anyway, this practice is simple.
 
Pull out the Bible and look up Psalm 46:10:
 
“Be still and know that I am God.”
 
One of the things they do at the CAC is a little prayer gathering every day and they meditate on this verse by going through it several times. Each time, they remove a word or two. They take away with each repetition until there is nothing left but stillness.
 
Wow!
​

Be still and know that I am God.

Be still and know that I am.

Be still and know that.

Be still and know.

Be still.
​
Be.
​

​Go ahead…Be.
 
Grace & Peace,
Scott
 
 
Richard’s Daily Devotional: https://cac.org/category/daily-meditations/
Saturday, July 31: https://cac.org/crisis-contemplation-weekly-summary-2021-07-31/
 

​I hate to say it.
Really.
I’m so over it.
 
This Delta variant is causing our numbers to go back up, even here in New Jersey where most adults are vaccinated. There are break-through cases even here. There is no data that says vaccinated people can’t transmit the virus (Delta especially) and no kids have the vaccine yet so--
 
CDC guidance recommends masking again in public places. Highlands Presbytery guidance has never recommended doing away with the masks although they know most of our congregations relaxed the masking requirement weeks ago. I went to ShopRite out where I live yesterday and didn’t see anyone without a mask. People are paying attention. People are caring for each other.
 
We should too.
I know that nobody wants to be the cause of an outbreak.
Not even one person!
 
So, out of care for each other here in Fairmount world—let’s return to masking in church. Please.
 
We’re still going to be on Facebook Live, we’ll still be Zooming for the Bible study, we’ll still offer Zoom for session, too.
 
Just trying to do our part to stay vigilant.
I’m just as tired of it as you are. Maybe more.
I’m a hugger. COVID is killing me!
 
Pandemic fatigue be damned, we’ve gotta do this.
We take care of each other. It’s what we do.
Fairmount is a kind, caring, compassionate community.
You are.
 
Grace & Peace,
Scott

So, I went back to Oklahoma again last week for a few days to see my brother and parents. So crazy the difference in the weather. It’s like 95 there by 11am almost every day this time of year. One day was really humid, too. It’s brutal! Summer is full-on still happening!
 
Most of you know I’ve lost a lot of weight the last couple years. Around 65 pounds. But, all bets are off when I go back to Tulsa. Now, don’t judge. I’m sure you understand. I had to hit some of my old haunts.
 
There’s a local hot dog chain that’s been around for like 100 years called “Coney I-lander.” They are awesome! The Rio Verde Mexican restaurant has a wet burrito that is in-credible—soooo good—about 1000 calories or more probably! Just gotta have it.
 
And Braum’s. They are the local family-owned ice cream joint. OMG! I got a malt. Good memories! And the place was packed. Everybody had the same idea to beat the heat. Braum’s makes incredible lime-aids, too. But I want the ice cream! Yum!
 
It occurs to me on the way back out to my parents’ house, that everybody is trying to pack in as much summer as possible before it’s over. Of course! I get it.
 
I plan on taking a couple weeks of real vacation myself at the end of August. You may even be still on vacation as you read this. I hope you are! Or, getting ready to sneak away for even a few days! I hope you can. I pray that you can.
 
It feels as though we’re running as hard and fast as we can to get through this pandemic and get to Labor Day. I know a lot of you are having to return to offices to commute again, even if it’s only a couple days a week. Even as the Delta variant is raging around us among the unvaccinated...we’re still pushing through.
 
Summer is drawing to a close plenty fast enough on its own. Let’s do everything we can to put the brakes on it. Slow down. Breathe a little deeper, breathe a little slower, and let the Spirit in.
 
Play with the kids. Go to the park and swing. Ride your bike! Dig in the dirt. Run down the shore one more time. Cook out. Turn on some preseason football (NFL starts next week) and chill.
 
Even as I need to get back on the bike and burn off all those coneys, the burrito, the malt…it’s still summer.
 
Summertime and the living is easy.
Well, it’s supposed to be.
Let’s make it so.
 
Grace & Peace,
Scott

Maybe it’s because I finally got motivated and finished my dissertation for the DMin at Drew a couple weeks ago. I’m not sure if that’s why exactly, but I’m all done! And I’ve been thinking about who is “other” a lot lately. The dissertation is all about doing Beloved Community. The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Beloved Community, where there are no “others”—just sisters and brothers.
 
Like in Galatians, Paul says: for in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith.  As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.  There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. (NRSV)
 
No others, just sisters and brothers—even people from other traditions. One of the things that I like so much about studying different traditions like Taoism or Buddhism and so on is that it can give you fresh eyes on your own tradition. It gives us ways to see Jesus, ways to see God, ways to see the Holy Spirit, ways to see Christianity in new light.
 
Examining different traditions can force us to break out of our embedded definitions of what is “right” religion, “right” belief, or “right” practice. It makes us think—deeply—about what we truly believe and how we approach our own spirituality. It gets very personal very quickly when you really sit and think, and meditate, and pray on it!
 
It may even cause you to start tearing things apart and putting them back together.
 
Please read that last sentence again because that is healthy “journeying” in this little walk we’re on. It’s something I stress to young people in confirmation classes, especially. It’s a part of claiming your own spirituality, for yourself. Not what your parents taught you, or your church growing up, or your Sunday School teacher, or your pastor—even me! Those are the ingredients certainly, but not the whole recipe.
 
This is about collating all of those theological influences that have impacted you and putting them into a blender and pouring out your own thing.
 
What’s interesting to me is not the differences in the traditions. What is most interesting to me is the similarities. The things we share. How we approach God, the higher power, and our definition of what that is.
 
Okay, that’s plenty enough to make your brain hurt so I’ll stop here. But I’m just the kind of geek that LOVES this exercise. You may notice that I was able to avoid the word in talking about traditions different from my own. It takes deliberate work to do that!
 
But if you can get your head around it, at least for me—as I think, and meditate, and pray about this—I keep landing in a place where there are no “others”.
Only sisters and brothers.
What do you think?
 
Grace & Peace,
Scott

​I’m sure you’ve seen signs in businesses over the years asking forgiveness for their remodeling, renovations, repairs. “Pardon the dust—just don’t write in it!” Stuff like that.
 
It’s about to get a little crazy around here. We have new roofing project for the Community House scheduled to start sometime around the first week of August. We are replacing the shingle roof on the main building and the flat roof on the educational wing.
 
It’s going to get a little “dusty” around here as we take on the project. And because this is a significant expense, you can expect a little capital campaign to kickstart the project. We’ll be coming back to you on this during August. Everybody please ante-up to ease this burden on our capital expenses.
 
It’s not like we didn’t get a full life out of either roof. Both of them are totally shot, and the nearest recollection we have about the shingle roof was a replacement in the 80’s. It’s been a while and here we are again. The joys of an old building!
 
Even in the heat of the summer, I try to stay on track with my morning devotionals (in the cool of the morning, thank you very much!) It helps keep me grounded. Oswald Chambers said something like “routine is what saves us between moments of inspiration.” So I hope you’re still doing yours, too.
 
I know I’ve told you that I read Philip Newell every day—his prayer book Praying with the Earth is one of my favorites. I quote him a lot so forgive me…here we go again. Thursday morning’s prayer is all about renewal. Maybe even a new roof. New start. Renovation. Daily renewal with life in Jesus Christ.
 
I love it so much because it’s a great reminder of forgiveness—permission to start again—new—every day. Every. Day.

We wake
to the forgiveness of a new day.
We wake
to the freedom to begin again.
We wake
to the mercy of the sun’s redeeming light.
Always new
always gift
always blessing.
We wake
to the forgiveness of this new day.

​
​You and me both! Every. Day.
 
Just pardon the dust.
 
Grace and peace,
Scott

Well, almost.
 
From Mark 6:
The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while." For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. 
 
I did some advance church planning this last week before heading down the shore for the holiday weekend. Robin is taking a couple weeks off, so we worked a little ahead. These Sundays lately, we’re getting into the part of Mark’s Gospel where Jesus’ ministry has grown to a point that both he and the disciples have been working very hard. So hard, they don’t have time to eat. So hard they need some time off to rest and recharge.
 
Who can’t relate to that?
 
Summertime! And the living is easy. Church attendance is always down from the “school year” because a number of people go away. During the regular year, I tell people that here in New Jersey, if you want to see the whole membership cycle through church, you gotta come every Sunday for at least a month. In the summer, it’s more like “you gotta come all summer” to see everybody. And during the pandemic, even that isn’t true anymore. Some people are really enjoying just rolling out of bed with coffee and a muffin, watching church on Facebook Live.
 
Nevertheless, most of us get out of town in the summer like a lot of us did over the July 4th weekend—relaxing—enjoying family—going down the shore, out of the country (if we are allowed to go there), dropping out of sight. The good news about living here in the shadow of NYC or Philly is that we even have a lot of choices when we “staycation” as things begin to open back up.
 
I’ll do some vacationing myself probably around the end of August or the first of September. I take two weeks every year to rest, recharge, go down the shore, read, binge-watch TV, sleep in, travel to see the kids, put more miles on the bike. I’ve got a lot of happy places.
 
Sometimes, I just sit. Sometimes I just sit, and I don’t even have to be watching the waves roll in to feel close to God—although the shore is a happy place for sure, especially at sunrise. Doesn’t everybody see God in the sunrise?
 
I hope you’re doing something like it. Whatever it takes. Get to your happy place.
 
Sometimes you can just sit, close your eyes, and be wherever you want to be. Feel the Spirit down to your bones. The Spirit knows…
 
God always knows where you are. Always, in all ways.
 
Like gravity, the Spirit never takes a day off.
But we need to. All of us. Jesus, the disciples, you, and me too!
 
Grace and peace,
Scott