Pittsburgh to Washington DC, Part 2

Title slide with a photo of the author and his brother

For Part 1, click here.

My brother becomes a hero 

Lock and lock house
Lock and a lock house. Some of the lock houses can be rented for those traveling on the C&O.

A couple of miles from the Paw Paw tunnel, we came around a bend and noticed bicycles thrown on the ground and several people kneeling over one of them. I peddled faster, thinking someone was hurt.  When we pulled up, we saw Max and three women cyclists. No one was hurt, but one of the bikes had been taken apart. She’d had a flat. Max, seeing the stuff on the ground from the bike, said he threw up his hands and said, “there’s some engineers just behind me who can help.”  At dinner the evening before, Max and Warren discussed various metals used in bicycles. From the discussion he learned my brother was a mechanical engineer. For some reason, he thought I was one, too. The women greeted us like saviors. When I shook my head at not being an engineer and pointed to my brother, they dropped interest in me and lauded praise on his arrival. 

Warren to the rescue

We spent the next 30 minutes trying to get the bike back together. They had removed the entire back sockets and de-railer. While Warren and the woman with the broken bike worked finding what goes where, Max and I talked to the other women. They were all serious cyclists. When asked what they do when there’s a problem, they pointed to the woman whose bike was torn apart. “We call her husband. He’s a serious racer and knows everything about bikes and can walk us through what needs to happen.” Sadly, for them, we were in an area without cell service. 

Once the bike was back together, we had the owner get on it and ride it a ways, making sure everything worked. It did. We ran into them again, late in the afternoon at the bicycle shop in Hancock. This was after 30 some miles of riding. One of the employees went through the bike and confirmed everything was back as it should be. The only issue was the tire pressure was a little low, but that’s to be expected with those emergency pumps which go on bicycles. 

As they rode away, my brother joked about telling his wife how he had satisfied three women this morning. 

Saturday, Cumberland to Hancock  (61 miles of which we rode roughly 40)

Potomac River
Potomac RiPonver, having fallen but still well out of its banks

This was to be the big day, 61 miles. The only problem was knowing there was a section of trail washed away in the floods about ten miles away. The National Park Service said there was no acceptable detour. We also learned from the bike shop that the road around this section was narrow, curvy, and unsafe to ride because of tractor trailers. So that morning, we arranged a shuttle for us and for Max, whom we’d talked to at breakfast. We had them drop us off at Paw Paw, cutting out about 25 miles of trail and the section that had been washed out.  

Paw Paw Tunnel

Paw Paw Tunnel walkway
Paw Paw Tunnel (My bike is pointing the wrong way)

The highlight of the day was the Paw Paw tunnel, an engineering marvel for the early 19th Century. We entered the tunnel just a mile or two from where the shuttle dropped us off. Bricks lined the walls of the tunnel. Bicycles (and mules in the day) travel on a wooden walkway that was so unleveled and bumpy we quickly heeded the warning to walk and not ride our bikes. Besides, the railing was only three foot tall, making it easy to tumble over if your bike fell. I attached the light to my handlebars and began the dark cool journey through the 3118-foot tunnel. 

Author's brother pulling his bike over a tree
Warren pulling his bike over a tree

Little Orleans

Bill's Place

The trail appeared better than we expected. While there were places with mud and many trees had fallen, requiring us to dismount and lift our bikes over them, it wasn’t as bad as some of the other places we’d heard of. We ate lunch at the Devil’s Alley Campground. When we came to Little Orleans, we left the trail and headed to Billy’s Place for ice cream. The place was a bar that served food. They advertised in large letters, “Beer, Boats, Bait.” In smaller letters the sign mentioned food, groceries, and shuttles. While we’d just had lunch, the burgers they’d fixed for a man and his wife we met outside of the establishment were enticing. 

It didn’t take long this day before my left foot became sore. Over the past couple of days, the soreness would manifest itself late in the afternoon. The evening before I realized the area around the Achilles tendon had swelled. This slowed my pace and made me want to take more frequent stops, sometimes even walking my bicycle. 

Western Maryland RR bike trail
Western Maryland Railroad bike trail.

The Western Maryland Trail begins at Little Orleans. While this path parallels the C&O canal, it’s high above the river and is paved. This old rail bed, which we’d ridden on from Connellsville on the GAP, was a welcome relief to the mud of the C&O. It was nice to bel able to ride on pavement, even though we still had trees to pull over. We rode it all the way to Hancock, except for one detour for about a mile onto the C&O as there is a tunnel that hasn’t yet opened. About three miles outside of Hancock, we came upon a group of trail workers from the Maryland Parks clearing trees which had fallen during the recent storms. 

Arriving back in Hancock

We arrived at Hancock at 5 PM, riding to the Presbyterian Church where I had left my car on Tuesday. We loaded our bikes and drove to Motel 8, where I had made reservations. On Monday night, I had stayed at the Potomac River Hotel, which looked like a bedbug haven. While it seemed to be free of bugs, the hotel had the ambiance of the 1940s. About half the lights were missing bulbs and the bathroom was small and the tub dirty. After discussing it, we decided to try the only other hotel in town. At least the bathroom was clean and larger, but the floors between the bed were soft and I wondered if one of us would fall through. 

After cleaning up, we met Max at the Potomac River Grill, across from the hotel of the same name. The food was excellent, and the place crowed. It appears to be owned by the same folks at the hotel. At least they’re doing something right. I had a wonderful burger with a salad and a Stella beer. 

After we got back to the hotel, Warren called his daughter, a physical therapist. She had me do a few moves and said she didn’t think my tendon was torn, but thought my tendon and muscles were angry and I may be suffering from Achilles tendinitis. She also recommended taking it easy, icing my ankle after walking or biking, taking ibuprofen for the swelling, and stretching in the morning. While riding, she suggested that while riding not to use toe-caps and to move my foot forward on the peddle so that I weight would be more on the arch of the foot.

Sunday morning, May 18

curvy lines on a straight road
Not an illusion

As Super 8s don’t provide breakfast, we drove to the IHOP on the east side of town, near the interstate. Coming back, I noticed some of the most creative line painting on a highway I’ve ever seen. Obviously, the Maryland line painters believe in drinking on the job! 

Then we worshipped with the good people at Hancock Presbyterian Church. I met Pastor Terry on Tuesday, when I left my car in the church’s parking lot. The 1845 sanctuary reminded me of the church where I was ordained as a Presbyterian minister, the United Church of Ellicottville in New York. Both brick sanctuaries featured high ceilings and a square design with cathedral style windows. While the United Church (formerly First Presbyterian) served as a stop on the Underground Railroad, the Hancock Church suffered damage during the Civil War when Stonewall Jackson’s men shelled the town. 

This morning the service honored the church’s graduates and featured a musical trio (soloist, keyboard, and bass) from Fredrick called “Solid Ground.” They lead the congregation in singing and sang several songs themselves. Afterwards, the congregation had a wonderful potluck lunch which they do once a month. If you’re ever in Hancock on the potluck Sunday, don’t miss it! 

Fort Frederick

Inside Fort Frederick
Ft. Frederick

Taking my niece’s advice, I decided not to ride on Sunday, which had been scheduled for our shortest day on the C&O, only 27 miles. Instead, I drove to Fort Frederick. The British governor had the rock-walled fort built during the French and Indian Wars to protect the frontier. In the American Revolutionary War, the fort housed British POWs. It never experienced the tragedy of a battle. Overtime, much of the fort had fell into disrepair, but the CCCs rebuilt it in the 1930s. Today, it’s a Maryland State Park. I toured the fort and reconnected with Warren as the C&O passes by the site of the fort. Then I moved on to Williamsport waterfront, where I waited to pick up Warren later in the afternoon. Williamsport features an aqueduct, where the canal (and its water) crossed a local creek, which was amazing to see. 

Williamsport’s Acqueduct

That night, we stayed at a Hampton Inn in Hagerstown. For dinner, I had a pecan chicken salad and sausage chili at Bob Evans, which was across the street from the hotel.

Monday, May 19.  A free day of touring the area

The First Washington Monument
First Washington Monument

We had planned a day off, since I had a car in the area and was wanting to see the Antietam battlefield. Leaving early, we first drove to the nation’s first Washington Monument along South Mountain. This monument was built in 1827 by the people of Boonsboro, Maryland. In 1862, the people living in the valley used the site to watch the battle of South Mountain and Antietam. I first visited the monument in 1987, while hiking the Appalachian Trail. In our few minutes at the site, I met several section hikers on the trail. 

fish tacos
Fish tacos

After the Washington Monument, we headed to Point of the Rocks, to look at the C&O trail. We had seen Facebook posts of riders who became bogged in mud between Brunswick and Point of the Rocks and, talking with a bike shop owner, learned several had busted their de-railers by trying to ride through the muck.  Then we drove along roads which parallel the trail, across from Harper’s Ferry and then across the Potomac to Shepherdstown, the oldest community in West Virginia. We had lunch in this quaint town at Marie’s Taqueria, where I had three delicious fish tacos. 

Antietam

Sunken Road at Antietam
Sunken road, sight of fierce fighting, taken from observation tower

After lunch, we headed to the Antietam battlefield, first stopping at the visitor’s center to watch a movie introducing us to the battle and exploring the museum. September 17, 1862 is the bloodiest day in American history. While more died at Gettysburg, that battle lasted three full days. Lee had assembled his troops between the town of Sharpsburg (some still refer to the battle as Sharpsburg) and Antietam Creek.  Fighting began that early that morning in a cornfield north of town. It continued in several different locations over the next twelve hours, before coming to an end. Strategically, the north won the battle. They forced the South to retreat into Virginia. But the price was heavy on both armies. The significantly larger northern army lost more soldiers than the south.  Dinner for the evening was picked up at a grocery store that had a hot food and a large salad bar. 

Tuesday, May 20 (36 miles)

down trees across path

With the reports of muddy and nearly impossible sections of the trail, we decided a new plan. We would start where we planned in Williamsport and ride as far east as possible before the mud became too deep.  Leaving Williamsport, we peddled east. The two days’ rest made my ankle and Achilles feel better. I also stopped wearing my toe clips and moved my foot further up on my pedals.  I wouldn’t have problems with my ankle until later in the afternoon. 

As I was leaving Williamsport, I came up on a man walking his dog. “On your left,” I yelled, to warn him of my passing. He jumped, looked around at me, and started cussing me out. Here, I had tried to be polite and not scare him and instead, I both scared and upset him. 

Lock, lock house, and train
Competing modes of transportation: Lock, lock houses and train

At first, our only challenge was stopping every little bit to pull our bikes over trees. This area is filled with history as we passed where Lee and his army were held up by a flooded Potomac as they retreated from Gettysburg, a year after Antietam. After about 7 miles, the path started to become muddier. After another half mile, we decided to turn around and head back to my car. On our way, just after we passed a huge down tree, in which we’d each be on a different side of the tree and hand bikes over, we met a park service crew cutting fallen trees.  The last half of the ride back to my car was much easier.

Afternoon ride

Then we headed to Brunswick. We had hoped to peddle here today, but knowing there were sections of the trail out, we set out and road east to Point of the Rocks, stopping for lunch on the trail about halfway to our destination. Our thoughts were that this would give us only 48 miles to Washington on Wednesday. I appreciated seeing this site in the afternoon. The day before, still early in the morning, had the sun behind the unique train station. 

Point of Rocks

Point of Rocks station

The original Baltimore and Ohio (B&O) tracks tracks ended at Point of Rocks, Maryland . Here, the railroad and the canal locked in legal wrangling over right away. It was eventually settled, with the railroad building a tunnel, which allowed them to move the lines westward. The railroad also began building a line eastward, to serve Washington DC. In the 1870s, where the two tracks converged, forming a wye, they built a station. Today, the station closed and owned and used by railroad. The Maryland commuter rail that runs into DC boards just west of the old station. 

I waited to catch a photo of the station with a train that was slowly approaching. The train was going slow and I could have easily jumped aboard as a hobo, but then I noticed that this unit train on open containers marked with the symbol of Republic Trash Service. Dirty water poured from the containers and a rotten smell filled the air. The stench encouraged me not to take up hoboing.

Harpers Ferry

Harpers Ferry
Harpers Ferry

After riding back to Brunswick, we continued west on the trail to Harpers Ferry. This also washed out but was temporarily patched with gravel. In 1987, the afternoon before visiting the Washington Monument, I had hiked along part of this section who also serves as the Appalachian Trail. Across from Harper’s Ferry, we locked our bikes up and walked across a pedestrian bridge. My Achilles ached and I mostly hobbled along. We explored a little of the Lower part of Harpers Ferry.  Then we rode back to my car, loaded up our bikes and headed to our hotel, where I could ice my ankle. With only two hotel options in Brunswick and no B&B available, Warren had booked us in the closest hotel to the trail, a Travelodge, 1.7 miles away from the C&O.  To reach this hotel on bicycles required a hard climb (as did the other hotel which was further away). 

Hotel in Brunswick

We feared the hotel might be a repeat of the Super 8 night, but it was quite nice. It seemed odd to have a hotel like this off a major road or interstate, but we quickly surmised the hotel primarily customer to be the railroad. They even had a lounge only for CSX employees and featured a 1950s style dinner that was open 24 hours a day. A local taxi company shuttled train crews back and forth to the railroad.

A great ending dinner

Chicken and lamb shawarma

That evening, we decided to forgo the diner and try the Potomac Street Grill near the railroad tracks. They advertised both American and Middle Eastern dishes. It was a good decision. I had a delicious combo shawarma platter, with both chicken and lamb, a wonderful mediterranean salad, and a local beer for $24. 

Wednesday, May 21, 2025           zero miles on bike/350 in the car

The night before, we watched the news and weather channels for what the next day would bring. Everyone was saying 100% chance of rain, with rains heavy in the morning and again later in the afternoon. It poured as we walked over to the diner for breakfast. We decided to quit. Having already had gaps in our travels along the C&O, we could come back and do the C&O again. Besides, my Achilles hurt. 

Our plan had been to ride into DC, stay with my brother’s sister and brother-in-law, then the next day, Warren would bring me back to my car and we’d head home. Now, we’d both be home a day early. 

Great Falls
Great Falls on the Potomac, just outside Washington DC

We left Brunswick at nine, in the pouring rain, hoping to miss the worse of the traffic.  As we approached DC, the rain slowed to a drizzle. We stopped at Great Falls to witness the power of the Potomac at high water levels. Amazing rapids! A few minutes after leaving the rapids, we arrived at Hitch’s home, where we transferred my brother’s bike to his car. A few minutes later, we took off on our separate paths. For me, it rained most of the way home. 

Ankle Update

I was checked out on Tuesday. While I didn’t tear any tendons, I have angered a few. The recommendation is that I not do any bike riding or long walks for a few weeks while it heals. In addition, I will do a few weeks of physical therapy to strengthen the muscles in my ankles.

Smyrna: Poor, Yet Rich

title slide with photo of the two churches where the sermon is to be preached.

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
May 25, 2025
Revelation 2:8-11

Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Friday, May 22, 2025

At the beginning of worship: 

Wouldn’t it be great to receive a letter from Jesus? Imagine pulling the envelop out of the mailbox, your hands shaking as you tear open the flap and take out the letter. Does the letter contain good news? Has Jesus heard our prayers? Or maybe the news isn’t so good; maybe he knows some of the darkness that lurks in our hearts… 

From a human perspective, there can be a good and a bad side to an all-knowing God. It’s nice to have a God that knows what we need; it’s a little frightening to have a God that knows what we’re up to.  

Of course, in the first century, a letter wouldn’t have been arriving in our mailbox, or as an email. Instead, a messenger would have brought a scroll containing the message. Word would have spread fast throughout the Christian community, and everyone would have gathered in anticipation, wanting to know what Jesus had to say to them. The messenger would read the letter to the assembled crowd. No one would have thought of taking this letter out to a private secluded spot and contemplating what was said.[1] The letter was to the church, not to individuals.  

Before reading the Scriptures:

Today, in our trip to the seven ancient churches of Asia-minor, modern-day Turkey, we’ll stop at Smyrna. The city is located along the coast; some 40 miles as the crow flies north of Ephesus, where we visited two weeks ago. Of the seven cities Jesus sends a message to in Revelation, only Smyrna exists today. However, its name has been changed to Izmir. 

If you remember from two weeks ago, Ephesus put so much attention on doing right and hating evil they lost the love they once had. As I suggested, the Ephesians had become bitter legalists. Smyrna, on the other hand, is not chastised by Jesus. In fact, it’s one of only two churches to which these letters are addressed that received no condemnation from Jesus. However, things are not all right in the city.  The Christians there are poor, and they face persecution. And it won’t get better any time soon.   

Read Revelation 2:8-11

Smyrna, of the first century, was a rich city. Like Ephesus, it too was a seaport. The city had about 100,000 inhabitants, significantly smaller than Ephesus, yet the city had certain bragging rights. Smyrna was believed to be the birthplace of the ancient poet Homer. The city obtained the status as the “first city of Asia,” a designation given because it had been Rome’s ally for centuries, back to the wars between Rome and Carthage. 

Smyrna was the first city in Asia to build a temple to the Roman goddess Romas. By the time of John’s Revelation, it also served as a center of Roman emperor worship. A temple honoring Emperor Tiberius stood in the city. With its strong ties to pagan and emperor worship, Christians in the city found themselves on the margin. As a persecuted minority, they didn’t enjoy the economic prosperity of their neighbors.[2]  

Making life even rougher for Christians in Smyrna was a significant Jewish population. The Roman Empire protected certain minority religions, included the Jews. You might remember that this special status allowed the early church to spread throughout the empire and, as we see in Paul’s encounter with the Jews in Corinth, the Romans didn’t want to interfere with disputes between Christians and Jews. Early on, the Romans saw the two as a part of the same cult.[3] But as the first century wore on, the two began to be seen as different faiths., mainly because those of the Jewish faith didn’t want anything to do with those who accepted Christ. This was especially after the Jewish revolt in Israel which resulted in the destruction of the temple. 

Furthermore, the Roman’s found the Christian insistence of Jesus being Lord a direct challenge to the Caesar’s claim. As this separation between Jews and Christians grew, Christians found themselves attacked and persecuted by both the Romans and the Jews. This seems to be the case in Smyrna.  

The members of the church in Smyrna who gathered to hear the letter were poor, yet they lived in an affluent city. They were persecuted. They had little going for them and I’m sure they’ve been praying over and over to Jesus for help. And now they’ve received a letter. What will Jesus say to them?

The letter starts out promising. Jesus reminds them that he is the first and last, the one who was dead yet has come to life. These letters always start a description of Jesus. Here we’re reminded of his death and resurrection. This will become more meaningful as the letter continues. Jesus assures the Christians of Smyrna that he knows what they’ve endured, yet he says that they’re rich. Of course, this doesn’t mean they’re rich by banking standards. Certainly, they’re still at the bottom of the economic ladder when it comes to income or wealth. But they know the truth. Their faith is strong. They are rich for the gospel is clear that the last shall be first.[4]

Then the letter continues warning the faithful in Smyrna of what’s coming. Those listening to the letter, I’m sure, hoped to hear that Jesus will make everything better. Yet, they now learn the city’s Christians will endure more persecution. “Don’t fear,” Jesus says. Don’t fear even though some of you be imprisoned and others will die. They’re not to fear because the one, who was dead but is now alive, will grant them the “crown of life.” That’s the hope of the resurrection.

Smyrna is a city known for persecution. In the next century, Polycarp, Bishop of Smyrna, becomes one of the most famous martyrs. He was burned burned to death during the reign of Marcus Aurelius for refusing to renounce Christ and worship the emperor. The sufferings of those in Smyrna will get worse. This isn’t the type of letter I’m sure most of them wanted to receive. We must admit our world is different. We have a hard time seeing ourselves in the mirror here, yet we know that the church continues to suffer in the world.  

It’s often cited that there were more Christian martyrs in the 20thCentury than in the previous 19 centuries. Sadly, the 21st Century seems to be off on a similar trajectory. For much of church history—and if we take Paul’s writings seriously, the church is one body—Smyrna is the norm.[5]  Much of the church in the world is poor and in many places the church is persecuted. The prosperity of the Christian Church in North America and Europe isn’t the norm. As rich Christians, we have better stand with our brothers and sisters around the globe who struggle to make a living and to survive persecution.   

Let me suggest what we learn about the Christian life from this letter. I’ll highlight three major lessons.  

First, faithfulness does not mean an easy life. Too often we think that if we just accept Jesus, it’s going to be alright. Nonsense, such teachings go counter to the gospel. Jesus tells us that if we’re truly followers of him, expect to be hated.[6] Yet, we’re not allowed to hate back; we must love even of our enemies.[7] In Smyrna, those Christians listening to the letter read learn that Satan’s attacks will intensify. Their faith will be challenged.  

We don’t know what it means to have our faith challenged. American Christians often act like we’re persecuted when someone says happy holidays instead of Merry Christmas. But think about what’s happening to Christians in places like Iraq and Iran, Palestine and Pakistan, Nigeria and North Korea. Living with prosperity, we should remember that being a follower of Christ doesn’t mean everything will suddenly become easy. If we learn this lesson, we won’t be so surprised and lose faith when things don’t go the way we want. We got this belief that there should be a solution to everything, and if we just do what’s right, we’ll be okay. And we will, in an eternal sense, but the short run might be difficult.  

A second thing to take from this letter is a warning not to compromise the gospel to fit into the larger culture. Society expected first century Christians to worship the emperor or stick to their Jewish roots and to forget about Jesus. But we must remember that our allegiance isn’t to a nation nor is it to a peer group, it’s to Jesus Christ and to him alone.

A third thing: society shouldn’t define success for us. By common definitions, Smyrna was a rich city. People had money. The per capita income was high. Success meant having a villa overlooking the sea and operating a thriving import business. Success was eating rich foods, not cornbread and beans. It meant drinking fine wine, not branch water. Success wasn’t overalls, but colorful tunics, and fashionable sandals instead of clodhoppers. 

But the Christians of Smyrna lived in the slums. Overworked and underpaid, they went hungry and were lucky to have clean water to drink. I imagine them in rags and going barefooted. Yet, they were faithful and because they are faithful, they are successful. As Christians, we resist external definitions of success. Such ideas will mislead us into placing too much value on the wrong kinds of things. As Jesus warns, don’t store treasures which will rust and rot and may be stolen.[8]  

To sum up this message to Smyrna, being faithful to Jesus may lead to troubles in the short-term. However, it’s the only long-term insurance of value. Amen.  


[1] Eugene H. Peterson, Reversed Thunder: The Revelation of John & the Praying Imagination (New York: HarperCollins, 1991), 43. 

[2] For information on Smyrna, see G. B. Caird, The Revelation of St. John the Divine (New York: Harper & Row, 1966), 34-36 and Robert H. Mounce, The Book of Revelation (revised) (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 73-77.    

[3] See Acts 18:12-17.

[4] Examples: Matthew 19:30, 20:16; Mark 10:31; and Luke 13:30

[5] Ephesians 4:4-6; 1 Corinthians 12:12-26.

[6] See Matthew 10:22, 24:9; Mark 13:13; Luke 21:17 and John 15:18.

[7] Matthew 5:43-48

[8] Matthew 6:19-21

Pittsburgh to Washington Bicycle Ride, Part 1

Photo of author on Hot Steel Bridge, Pittsburgh and a map of the trail

“I was asleep. I had been told to wear ear plugs to block the train noise,” he said. “At 4 AM, I woke up to my tent shaking and people yelling. At first, I couldn’t make it out, but then realized they were saying the water rising and I must get to get out.” This was the experience of another bicyclist along the Great Allegheny Passage. He had camped on the banks of the Youghiogheny River, just outside West Newton. He got up just in time to pull his tent and gear to higher ground. Then he joined in the effort to help others with the rising water. 

I didn’t get his name. My guess is he was in his 40s and from York, Pennsylvania. We met him on Friday morning, at Meyersdale. He was heading out on his last day on the trail. He would complete the “GAP”, (the Great Allegheny Passage) that afternoon after a 24-mile downhill run.  Later that day, as we ate lunch at an overlook just outside the Big Savage Tunnel, my brother recalled his positive attitude. Such an attitude pays off when confronted with challenges. 

Day 1: Getting to Pittsburgh

Warren and I began our journey on Tuesday afternoon, when his brother-in-law Hitch dropped us off a block from “The Point” in Pittsburgh. This is the confluence of the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers, where they form the Ohio River. 

Flight 93 Memorial
Flight 93 Memorial showing the flight path taken on Sept. 11, 2001

 It had rain heavily for two days. On Monday, after planting the tomatoes I’d grown from seed in my garden, I’d drove in rain to Hancock, Maryland. The next morning, Warren and Hitch picked me up. I left my car at the Hancock Presbyterian Church. In the rain, we loaded my gear in my brother’s car and placed my bike next to his on this rack. We took the backroad, US 30, which had been the Lincoln Highway before the interstates, so that we could stop at the Flight 93 Memorial near Shanksville. The museum was sobering, but it rain too hard to do anything outside. Then, in Irwin, I introduced the two of them to a Western Pennsylvania stable, an Eat-n-Park Restaurant. 

Author and his brother at the Point in Pittsburgh
At Three Rivers

Thankfully, as we approached the city, the downpour weakened to a drizzle. Warren pulled the car over a block from Point State Park. We got our bikes off and loaded. Hitch took the keys to drive the car back to his home in Washington. Warren and I headed out to the Point. Looking over the city I called home for three years; I pointed out several landmarks to my brother. Of course, in the nearly 40 years since I moved to the Steel City, many things had changed. Three River Stadium was gone. Replacing it along the north side of the river was two new venues, one a football stadium for the Steelers and PNC Park, where the Pirates play. 

Day 1: The Point to Homestead, 8 miles

Downtown Pittsburgh from Hot Metal Bridge
Pittsburgh downtown from the Hot Metal Bridge

The GAP runs along the east side of the Monongahela through downtown, until it crosses over to the west side of the river on the “Hot Metal Bridge.” When steel was still being made on the Southside and at the J&L plant just outside of Oakland (home of the University of Pittsburgh), this bridge was still in use. When I lived in Pittsburgh, the Southside had been converted to an upscale shopping district known as Station Square. J&L was still running but would close before I left the city. We continued along the river, stopping at a hotel in Homestead.  We only rode 8 miles in a hour which included a lot of stops along the way. 

Homestead

author photo in Homestead from late 1980s
That’s me in Homestead, late 1980s

Homestead had been completely remade since I lived in Pittsburgh. While there, they began to tear down the huge US Steel plant, which ran for four miles along the river.  The first book about the city I read after moving there was Thomas Bell’s Out of this Furnace. The novel, published in 1941, told the story of three generations of eastern Europeans who worked at the mills in Homestead and across the river in Braddock. I found myself making several trips to Homestead, especially after they started tearing down the mill. Today, where the mill once sat is a community of apartments, condos, hotels, restaurants, parks, and shopping.  After arriving at the hotel, we explored the community on foot. 

Day 2: Homestead to Connellsville, 51 miles

Barge on the Monongahela
Barge on the Monongahela

We left the hotel in Homestead at 7:45 AM. The remnants of steel mills were all around us with only one mill appearing to operate. Before McKeesport, we had a long detour as they resurfaced the trail. At McKeesport, we crossed over the Monongahela and began our climb alongside the Youghiogheny River. As we were leaving McKeesport, having traveled along some streets, my back tire went flat. Stopping, I discovered an inch and a half finishing nail through the tire and the tube. I replaced it with a fresh tube and after about 15 minutes we were again riding. 

Steel mill

The trail along this section consisted of former industrial sites and some forest. With the river to our left, we occasionally would have a waterfall to our right. Often, these falls carried toxic waste from coal mines and left an orange sludge on the rocks.

Lunch in West Newton

At West Newton, we stopped at a bike shop where I picked up a new tube. I kept the old tube to repair so that I would have two tubes available. We’d been told of a good restaurant along the river, just behind the bike shop, but it was closed. The shop suggested we try Gary’s Chuckwagon, where for $15, I had a huge slab of a beer-battered fried cod (fish) on a homemade hoagie bun. 

Water from an old mine
water from a mine (thankfully, you don’t have to smell the sulfur)

Coming out of West Newton, I spotted a possum. It appeared to have badly matted hair. When I got closer, I realized the matted mess of hair were younger possums getting a ride on mom. These weren’t small possums. They looked to be about half grown. I would have thought the mother would have told them it was time to start walking by themselves. 

About eight miles from Connellsville, our evening destination, the skies opened. We took shelter for a while under an overpass with two other riders. When the rain subsided, we began to ride again, only to have another downpour. By the time we reached the hotel in Connellsville, we were both soaked, and our bikes were dirty from the mud. Thankfully, the Comfort Inn where we were staying had a wash station for bikes, which we used. They also had a room, which was locked at night, where we could store our bikes.  That evening we ate at the River’s Edge Restaurant. I wasn’t overly hunger, so I had a bowl of crab bisque and a salad. 

Day 3, Connellsville to Rockwood, 45 miles

The GAP around Ohiopyle

We left again at 8:15 in the morning. This was my favorite section as we left behind old industry and mostly peddled through woodlands with lovely stops at Ohiopyle, an old resort town that features some of America’s best whitewater. However, due to the high water levels, no one was kayak or rafting. We stopped at ate lunch in the park at Confluence. Warren had brought a couple of Underwood Chicken Salad cans and was wanting to rid himself of the extra weight. I grabbed an extra bagel at breakfast and used it to make a sandwich. 

Rapids at Ohiopyle
Rapids at Ohiopyle
Waterfall beside the GAP around Ohiopyle

The trail became noticeable steeper, especially after Confluence, as we broke away from the Youghiogheny River and followed the Casselman River. But the bed was wider, probably because of requiring double tracks on this steep section. It was easy to ride double through much of this section. For some reason, my left Achilles tendon began to bother me the more I rode. As for animals, I saw several deer and a few garner snakes. 

We were the only people staying at the Rockwood Trail House, a bed and breakfast in which the hosts lived elsewhere. Max, whom we’d met the day before, stayed by himself in another B&B. The old home had been magnificently restored. It was also well stocked with healthy breakfast makings including yogurt, multiple kinds of granola, fruits, boiled eggs, and breads. For dinner, we walked into town (about a half mile) and ate at the Rock City Bar and Café. It was your typical Western Pennsylvanian bar with cheap bottle beer ($2.50 each) and great burgers. I had a Rocket Burger, which included sautéed mushroom, peppers, onions with cheese sticks. Including the beer, my tab was $13.65. 

Day 4, Rockwood to Cumberland, 43 miles  

I woke up after a weird dream mixed with people from the church I served in Michigan with the church in which I grew up in North Carolina. The morning was humid. After eating fruit, granola, and yogurt for breakfast, we headed out. It felt like rain. We still had 19 miles of climbing, but the grade was less than it had been the day before. After an hour, we were in Meyersdale. Thankfully, the trail runs high above the town where there was a nice museum in the old depot. I purchased a GAP/C&O Canal shirt. The town had experienced bad flooding earlier in the week. The trail also became more rutted from the water that eroded the bed. It was at the museum that we met the guy who had been flooded out of his tent site earlier in the week.  

trail washout near the Eastern Continental Divide
Washout near Meyersville

After Meyersville, we had another six miles of climbing as we made our way to the Eastern Continental Divide. Shortly afterwards, we passed through the Big Savage Tunnel. While I had a light for my handlebars, I didn’t need it as we discovered the 3,294 feet tunnel had lights. Coming out of the tunnel on the south end, we were treated to a magnificent view of the mountains to our east.  As we took photos of the tunnel, we spoke to a biker heading to Pittsburgh. He was riding a commuter bike with a metal basket on the front. He’d come from Washington and told of the flooding and long detours and carrying his bicycle through knee-depth water along the C&O.  He hoped for our sake; things would be drying out.  It wouldn’t.

Downhill from the Savage Tunnel

Author at the Mason Dixon line
at the Mason Dixon line

After the tunnel, we stopped for lunch. Eating tuna salad sandwiches, we could hear the wisp of windmills generating electricity from the ridge above the tunnel. While we still had a little over 20 miles to go, we felt as if we had completed the trail as it was downhill from here. A mile or less after the tunnel, we paused at the monument for the Mason Dixon line, which separates Pennsylvania from Maryland. Crossing over, we were officially back in the South!

Tourist train beside the GAP, between Frostburg and Cumberland
Western Maryland tourist train between Frostburg andCumberland

The GAP passes underneath the town of Frostburg. We talked of ice cream, but it required a climb to get into the town. Frostburg is a college town and on both sides of the town, we passed college students walking and running along the trail. About a mile south of Frost burg, I had another flat on my back tire. This time, I couldn’t find the cause. But the tube had a ¼ inch hole not far from the valve stem.  One set of tracks of the Western Maryland still operate through this section and moments after having sat on the raised ballast to change my tube, a tourist train came down the tracks.

Looking out of the Brush Tunnel in the rain
Taking refuge in the Brush Tunnel during a Thunderstorm

As the trail became steeper going down the hill, it also became more washed out. Instead of flying downhill, we had to control our speed on a roadbed that felt like a washboard.  At places, the trail was so rough we walked the bikes. Clouds began to build, and thunder could be heard. We entered the 914-foot Brush Tunnel as the skies opened and waited out the storm inside. Another biker, who had ridden much of which had walked, joined us. The rocky and jarring path had caused him to lose both his light and his water bottles. 

In Cumberland, at the end of the GAP

As the rain slowed, we again ventured out and rode all the way into Cumberland, arriving a little after 4 PM. We had hope to get there before the National Park Service office for the C&O Canal closed, but learned they work only till 4 PM. The rain and lightning had slowed us down and we just missed them. A maintenance employee for the park service came out and talked to us, confirming our fears. Parts of the trail were completely washed out and closed. We then went to a bike shop where we learned that the bypass to the C&O wasn’t a good option as it was a narrow windy road with semis traveling on it. We tentatively made plans for a shuttle in the morning. 

Next, we headed to the Ramada Inn, where they had a room for bikes. After cleaning up, we headed out for dinner. Checking in as we were leaving was another biker who had passed us. He had continued along the C&O but came to place where he couldn’t go any further and didn’t want to ride the roadway. He came back to Cumberland and was planning to take the next day’s train to Pittsburgh. 

We ate dinner at City Lights, a place that sounded a lot like a North Beach bookstore in San Francisco (and there’s another one in Iowa City). I had a Greek Salad with grilled chicken, which was delicious. After dinner, we walked around town, crossing a creek to see the Cumberland First Presbyterian Church, where I had once preached during my second year of seminary.  We headed to bed early, not knowing what the next day would hold. At least, we’d completed the GAP. 

Hopefully, I’ll write about the C&O experience next week.

Where the GAP ends and the C&O begins
A toast (with coffee) at the end of GAP and the beginning of the C&O

Ephesus: The Church Who Forgot to Love

Title Slide with photo of two rock churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches 
May 11, 2025
Revelation 2:1-7

At the beginning of worship:
Let me tell you a bit about Sam Jones. He was one of America’s most popular preachers in the late 19th and early 20th Century. You could sum his message up in this manner: “Quit your meanness!” At his peak, he often outdrew Dwight Moody. Many considered him a better preacher. By all accounts, he was funnier. 

Sam Jones is mostly forgotten. While there have been numerous biographies of Moody, there’s only been one of Jones published since his death in 1906. Laughter in the Amen Corner came out in 1993.[1] Reading this book I learned Jones was from Cartersville, Georgia. It’s just a jump from Donna’s hometown. The next time we visited, I insisted on going. Donna thought I’d lost my mind and acted like Cartersville was on the far side of the earth. 

That didn’t matter. I drove the 15 miles over to Cartersville. I wanted to see the town that produced Sam Jones. 

Cartersville is a pleasant railroad town. Lots of trains race through the town, but they no longer stop. For Civil War buffs, this is the same railroad grade upon which the great train chase with the locomotive “The General” occurred.   

As with most county seats, the courthouse sits on a hill in the middle. Three churches flank the courthouse in Cartersville. Looking up from the train station, you have the Baptist on the left and the Methodist on the right. We Presbyterians are behind the courthouse—but we had a fine church there, one we cand be proud of. I walked around town to see what I could glean. 

At the Baptist Church, I learned Lottie Moon, the famous missionary to China and for whom the Southern Baptist have named their world mission offerings after, grew up in that church. And then, at the Methodist Church, I was surprised to see it named for Sam Jones. A few years after Jones’ death, they built a new sanctuary and named it, according to the cornerstone, “The Sam Jones Memorial Methodist Episcopal Church, South. (This was before all the mergers leading to the United Methodist Church.) I was amazed that this little town produced two of the South’s most famous religious figures in the late 19th Century. I was a bit envious, wondering when the Presbyterian Church would catch up.

Although Jones was a proud Southern Methodist, it didn’t make much difference to him what flavor of religion one belonged. “A creed hasn’t’ got legs,” Jones often quipped, ‘and I can’t follow it.” And he’s right. Ultimately, we’re not called to be Presbyterian or Methodist or Baptist, but to follow the Savior. Jones humor was such that it pointed out human folly. “I could never preach,” he told a reporter, shyly adding, “but I can talk a little.” Once Jones got the crowd laughing at themselves, he’d introduce them to Jesus. It’s not a bad strategy.   

Before reading the Scriptures

Starting today, we’re going to look at each of the seven churches of Revelation. While all of Revelation is a letter, there are individual messages to seven churches, which we were introduced to last week

These seven churches are in towns which form a circle along a Roman postal route.[2] Jesus is present within each church, so he’s able to communicate what’s happening in the life of each congregation. But it would be a mistake to think these letters only applies to the seven individual churches. The number seven, the divine number, implies fullness. So, within these letters we find situations that are present in our churches still today; hence, looking at these letters will be a lot like us looking in a mirror.   

These seven messages within the larger letter all take on a similar form. They’re addressed to an angel of each church. Christ is the author, but for each church a different metaphor is employed to refer to his identity. In most cases, there is praise for what the church does well as well as condemnation for where they fail.[3]

Like these churches, we’d probably find Christ evaluating us in a similar manner, patting us on the back for the good we do and chastising us for the times we fail to live up to his standards.  

The first church in our visit is Ephesus. We know a lot about the early life of this church from the book of Acts. We also have Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. Christianity was probably brought to Ephesus by Priscilla and Aquila around 52 A.D.[4]  Paul spent a couple years in the city. So did Timothy. Ephesus bustled with trade in the first century. A port city of nearly quarter million people, it sat on a major trade route into Asia. 

The city boasted several major pagan temples, the most important one being for the Greek fertility goddess Artemis (the Roman goddess Diana). We know from Acts the silversmiths of this temple rioted because people were converting to Christianity and buying fewer pagan statues.[5] Trade wars are nothing new. 

Let’s turn to Scripture and see what Jesus has to say to this congregation. 

 Read Revelation 2:1-7.

Think for a minute. Do you know any Christians who used to have a vibrant faith, was a pleasure to be around, but since has become a legalist? Someone joyous and happy, but now bitter?  Someone who use to be sweet and are now sour? Perhaps you’re feeling this way. It seems to be a common occurrence. We burn out. We lose focus. And we have all the right intentions but find ourselves bogged down in petty disputes. 

As the revivalist Sam Jones, whom I introduced earlier this morning, once said, creating a commonly used cliché, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” We start out with great plans but become sidetracked. Perhaps that’s what happened to the church in Ephesus. Or maybe they just felt good demanding other people obey God’s law. It gave them a sense of authority which is why humility is so important.

The Ephesians are zealous enforcers of orthodoxy. They tow the party line. They deal with heretics, those whose teachings go against the gospel, swiftly. The congregation has been patiently waiting for Christ’s return and has not grown weary. That sounds good. But then the tone of the letter changes, as Jesus charges them for abandoning the love they once had. 

It appears the Ephesians started off being a loving community. But their love waned. They put too much emphasis on right and wrong beliefs. Now, according to this letter, While Jesus isn’t too happy with these false teachers, he’s even more concerned about the lack of love among the faithful. They’re like those Jesus condemns in the Sermon of the Mount. They try to take a speck out of someone’s eye with a log in their own.[6]

In John’s Epistles, we’re told that God is love and those who love abides in God and God abides in them.[7] The church in Ephesus, for all their insistence on believing right, missed the boat. As important as right doctrine may be, it’s more important to have a loving community. Surpassing all creeds in importance is the command to love.

John Leith, the late professor from Union Theological Seminary in Virginia, in the 1980s wrote a powerful little book titled The Reformed Imperative. It’s a challenge to fundamentalism—on both the left and right wings of the ideological spectrum. We tend to think of fundamentalism as conservative, but it can go either way. And both sides are wrong, according to Leith. Both make too simple distinctions between people. 

“The gospel is hidden from those who in their self-righteousness are proud of their moral achievements,” he wrote. And those “who know that they are righteous by their identification with the proper causes,” yet are vindictive toward others who have different views, whom they desire “to discard, to destroy.”[8] Fundamentalist according to Leith miss the good news.

In other words, those who think they’re religious, yet who do not love, find the gospel hidden. And those who make a big deal about their faith, but do not love, miss the gospel’s truth. And those who are proud of their righteousness, but hold others in disdain, miss the good news. Leith, writing about the church in the late 1980s, could also have been writing about churches today. And he could have been writing about Ephesus in the first century. 

The Ephesians felt so good about their success in rooting out evil that they became self-assured of their righteousness. They forgot what’s most important. They forgot how to love. In striving to be right, they missed the gospel and became what they abhorred, heretics and hypocrites.

The dilemma of the church in Ephesus remains within the church today. How can we, the church, remain faithful to the truth while loving all people? It’s a tough challenge. Often someone quotes the cliché, “love the sinner, hate the sin.” But the tone of their voice makes me wonder if there is really love for the sinner. If we don’t love, despite right beliefs, we fall into the same trap as the Ephesians. 

Many of you, I’m sure, remember the old Wendy’s commercial. A grandmother-looking lady shouts, “Where’s the beef?” The implications being a hamburger joint is judged by the amount of beef between the two halves of the bun. Likewise, the church is judged, not so much by our orthodoxy, but by our love. Where’s the love? That’s what we need to ask, that’s the way our faith is evaluated. Do we love one another? 

Remember Sam Jones’ comments about not being able to follow a creed because “it ain’t got any legs.” What’s important is following Christ. We follow him who loved even his enemies and those who nailed him to the cross. Don’t get so hung up on making sure that everything is proper, and everyone acts up to our expectations. While proper thinking and right actions are important, it’s more important that we as a community love God and one another. Amen.      


[1] Kathleen Minnix, Laughter in the Amen Corner: The Life of Evangelist Sam Jones (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1973).  Jokes and information on Jones from Minnix and from Doug Adams, Humor in the American Pulpit from George Whitefield through Henry Ward Beecher (Sharing, 1992). 

[2] G. B. Caird, The Revelation of St. John the Divine (New York: Harper & Row, 1966), 28. 

[3] For a detail discussion on the nature of each message see M. Eugene Boring, Revelation: Interpretation, A Biblical Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1989), 85-97. 

[4] Robert H. Mounce, The Book of Revelation, revised edition (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997), 67

[5] Acts 19:21ff

[6] Matthew 7:3-5. 

[7] 1 John 4:7

[8] John H. Lieth, The Reformed Imperative: What the Church Has to Say that No One Else Can Say (Louisville: Westminster,1988), 60-61.  

HopeWords 2025

title slide with photo of The Granada Theater

This is my third trip to Bluefield, West Virginia for the HopeWords Conference, which is held in the beautifully restored Granada Theater. This year’s theme was “Writing in the Dark.” I have also attended this conference in 2022 and 2023. Unlike the other years, probably because I wasn’t feeling well, I didn’t take many photos.

Bluefield is an interesting setting to discuss hope and writing, as the city has struggled in recent years. At one time, Bluefield was a happening place, as Travis Lowe, the founding director of HopeWords loves to tell. Lowe grew up in Bluefield and while he currently lives in Oklahoma, he still considered Bluefield home. While coal mining was just a bit west of Bluefield, the city grew as a supply point for the mines and for the railroads that served the mines. Still today, cars of coal are built up in the Bluefield rail yard to be hauled to distant locations to “make the electricity to light up the world.” 

I had only two complaints about this year’s conference. Neither had anything to do with the conference and everything with my enjoyment of the event. The first had to do with the pollen count in the air. It was at an all-time high. My head pounded. I just wanted to sleep, which was hard because of sinus drainage causing me to wake as I coughed. The second was the replacement of the flooring in the hotel I stayed. In previous ones, I stayed in Princeton, about fifteen miles away, and the hotels were nicer. This time, I stayed in a Quality Inn in Bluefield, Virginia, about seven miles away. The hotel was older and will be nice once the remodeling is done, but for now is under construction. 

Christian Wiman

 Wiman served as the main speaker this year. The last conference I attended, in 2023, featured Miroslav Volf, a theologian from Yale. In introducing Wiman, Lowe noted that when Volf was the featured speaker, he confessed that he wasn’t worthy and recommended his colleague at Yale, Wiman. While Volf had much to add to the conference, it was a pleasure to hear Wiman, an excellent poet.  

In Wiman’s opening lecture, he discussed faith and God, in contrast to religion. We only experience a fraction of God, yet we don’t have to name God for God to be God.  God is always God. And our faith needs to be growing, as we put away our childhood and silly notions of the divine. 

On the second day of the conference, Wiman and Lowe had a conversation. For some reason, I assumed (wrongly) that Wiman was European. He grew up in Texas, raised by parents who were first poor, then his father became a physician. He told about attending First Baptist Church in Dallas and writing a poem which first line went, “I love the Lord and He loves me.” He gave the poem to Criswell, the pastor, who had it published in the Baptist Standard. Wiman joked that his first poem was published when he was eight.

Hannah Anderson

 Anderson was the first speaker on Saturday morning. This was a shame as I found her insights some of the best at the conference. Most attendees (myself included as I was five minutes late) missed the opening of her talk. Focusing on the conference theme, she spoke about a personal time of crisis (darkness) in which she felt she would never write again. She discussed the need to give herself permission to write again. She also reminded us how, in darkness, we can use other senses to experience the world. But she warned writers not to give too much artificial light into a dark situation. She closed with an essay of hers on Psalm 74, where she acknowledges that God creates light but doesn’t obliterate darkness. 

I had read one of her books, Humble Roots, a few years ago. I picked up her book, All That’s Good, from the conference bookstore and recently read and reviewed it.  I look forward to hearing wonderful things from my congregation about her as she’s scheduled to preach for me on June 22.

Karen Swallow Prior

This is Prior’s third appearance at HopeWords. Like Wiman, I’ve also seen her at Calvin’s Festival of Faith and Writing. She began discussing her upcoming book on “calling,” and then gave suggestions for those wanting to be writers:

1. Study language.
 2. Read good words by others.
 3. Seek honest feedback. 
4. Writing is not the same as publishing. 
5. Journal, it’s a place for you to record and work out ideas and you may have them burned after your death. 
6. If you want to write to feel good about yourself, do something else. Writing is humbling.
7. Don’t write to make a living. While Prior is making money from writing, it’s only after 30 years of teaching in universities. 
8. Do the writing you’re called to do. 

Dr. Derwin Gray

Gray and his wife pastor Transformation Church outside of Charlotte, NC and has published several books. I am currently reading his book, How to Heal Our Racial Divide: What the Bible Says, and the First Christians Knew, About Racial Reconciliation. 

As an African American, Gray attended Brigman Young University on a football scholarship. He later played five years for the Indianapolis Colts and a year for the Carolina Panthers. As he introduced himself, he joked that NFL meant, “Not For Long,” for most players only make it a few seasons. During his fifth year in Professional Football, another teammate led him to Christ. Since he retired from football, he has attended seminary and done doctoral work. 

Gray began by telling his story. Much of his early years were spent in special education. He also didn’t grow up in church but, as he proclaims, “God loves to use the ordinary to do extraordinary things.” His talk resembled more of a sermon, mostly based on Psalm 23, with a lot of one-line zingers. “ 

“God is not a microwave. He’s more like a crockpot.”
“Our challenge: May our lives be better than our books.”
“Fight for your readers.”
“David defeated a giant but lost to lust.”
“All of life is worship.”
“Let your ink pen become a means of grace.”
and from the Roman philosopher Cicero: “The greatest form of revenge is not to become like your enemies.”

We had a long lunch hour, and I went back to the hotel and slept, causing me to miss the S. K. Smith, the afternoon’s first speaker. 

Dr. Craig Keener

A professor at Asbury Theological Seminary, Dr. Craig Keener has been prolific in publishing commentaries on the Bible. While I have a decent commentary library with two or more commentaries on each book in the Bible, I have not read Keener. This cause of this oversight is that I tend to read mainly Reformed commentaries while Keener writes in the Wesleyan tradition. 

Keener began his talk which he titled, “Writing Because It Matters,” with a confession. “I like writing better than speaking because you can edit before it’s public.” Most everyone laughed. He also confessed that it was because of God’s grace that he, someone diagnosed with ADHD, could become a writer. 

Keener discussed his writing journey. From meeting two missionaries in high school, to his first wife leaving him, which locked him out of evangelical circles, he spoke about how writing and dealing with Scripture was forged with struggles.  Fifteen years after his first wife left, he married a woman he met as a missionary in the Congo (she also has a PhD from the University of Paris). Together, they have a book, The Impossible Love.

Keener encouraged the writers in the crowd to remember that they’re not writing for themselves but for Jesus Christ. 

Lewis Brogdon

Like Hannah Alexander and S. K. Smith, the last speaker on Saturday was another HopeWords regular. Lewis Brogdon, like Travis Lowe, is a native of Bluefield. He teaches homiletics at Baptist Seminary of Kentucky but also holds a part-time position at Bluefield College. Brogdon began discussing an upcoming book of his, The Gospel Beyond the Grave: Toward a Black Theology of Hope. While making the point how writing takes time, he suggested that this book had a long gestation period going back to article he read by a Catholic theologian 25 years ago. The theologian suggested that racial reconciliation would happen in purgatory. Of course, Brogdon acknowledged that as a Black Baptist, purgatory isn’t something he believes in, but the article caused him to think. Then, 23 years ago, his father died. These events, while also dealing with recent events in America, led to the book (which I will look forward to reading). 

His theme was how writing can be a place of light, and he discussed how our journeys involve the work and word of God along with our own holy conversations. 

Evening and Sunday morning

Inside Christ Episcopal after the service. I especially like the cork floors (which we have in our new addition at home).

After the final speaker, there was free time where I went back to my hotel and napped. Then I went to an evening reception. I wasn’t hungry and a small plate of hors d’oeuvres sufficed for dinner. I had conversations with a few folks but called it an early evening and headed back to the hotel for bed around 8 PM. On Sunday morning, I attended Christ Episcopal, where Amanda Held Opelt, who’d provided music between speakers at the conference, preached. Her text was from John 12:1-8 was on Mary of Bethany, the sister of Lazarus and Martha. 

First Presbyterian Church, Bluefield WV
First Presbyterian Church, across from Christ Episcopal. Like most of the large downtown churches in Bluefield, they have lots of extra space. I recently learned that the Presbyterians have converted part of their extra space into bunk rooms for those coming in to volunteer for mission work in Appalachia.

John’s Vision of the Resurrected Christ

Title Slide with photos of the two rock churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
May 4, 2025
Revelation 1:9-20

Sermon recorded on Friday, May 2, 2025, at Bluemont Church

At the beginning of worship: 
We began our tour of the opening chapters of Revelation last Sunday. I devoted a bit of time in that sermon discussing the term used in verse 4, “Grace and Peace.” 

I discovered something else about this term from a book I’d read almost 40 years ago. I’d forgotten this. The book I pulled off my shelf and reviewed is titled Comfort and Protest: The Apocalypse from a South African Perspective. Allan Boesak wrote it at the height of apartheid in his country. He drew on ancient Roman historians, to point out that this familiar greeting for Christians was also used by the Caesars. 

But the message from Caesar, while proclaiming grace and peace, might lack it. Domitian, the emperor under whose reign some think Revelation was written, would always include these words in introductions to his proclamations, including those calling for a death sentence against his foes.[1]

For the faithful in the first century, they had to ask themselves under whose grace they wanted to live. Would it be the “grace of Caesar, whose ‘mercy’ might spell death, destruction, and inhumanity’”? Or would it be the grace of God who frees us from fear and sin and saves us from death? Under whose grace do we live?

Before reading the Scripture
Today, we’ll look at John’s first vision in Revelation, where he sees Christ. This is the beginning of the letter to the seven churches. What we looked at last week was the salutation, the opening which was a common form for letters in the first century. 

The body of John’s letter begins with a vision. This isn’t something uncommon.  A vision kicked off the prophetic ministries of Isaiah and Ezekiel.[2] It also kicks off John’s ministry. It’s awesome, yet it draws on a similar vision of the prophet Daniel. Overwhelmed, John falls as if he’s dead. But Christ lifts him up and by the time this opening vision ends, John is ready to begin writing what he has seen. Let’s listen to what John sees and hears his first vision:

Read Revelation 1:9-20
“I’m one of you,” John begins. He assures those who listen to his letter that he is their brother. John shares with them in persecution, in the hope for the coming kingdom, and in their endurance. 

Furthermore, John preaches the gospel. And this preaching got him into trouble. He has been exiled to Patmos, a small rocky island some 75 miles east of Ephesus. There is no evidence the island was an Alcatraz, a prison for hardcore convicts.[3] Instead, it seems to have been a place where the Romans sent troublemakers, knowing they’d be out of sight and not too much territory to get into mischief. 

For John, this meant he lost his congregation and the ability to reach other communities with his preaching. But now, through this vision, God speaks through John by letter. 

John tells us this vision happened on the Lord’s Day, a day when he would normally be gathering with other believers for worship. But in exile, he not able to do this. So, Christ comes to him, beginning with a loud voice with the blast like a trumpet saying, “Write this and send it to the seven churches.”

John turns to see where the voice is coming from, and he sees seven golden lampstands. Standing in the middle of these candlesticks is one who resembles the Son of Man, in other words Christ. This is not the Jesus John knew in Galilee. This is the resurrected Christ in all his glory. The candlesticks represent the church that is to bring light into a darken world.[4] And Christ, standing in the middle, reminds us that he’s always with the church, even during times of persecution and danger.[5]

The vision of the Son of Man is like the one Daniel experienced.[6]Clothed with a long robe with a golden sash across his chest, his hair has turned white. While this may sound like Jesus had prematurely aged, the whiteness probably means purity. His eyes appear to have fire in them and his voice sounds like the rapids of a raving river. 

Instead of taking this vision literally, each part is symbolic. The sharp two-edged sword from his mouth draws upon John’s gospel and the Book of Hebrews. In John’s gospel, Jesus is the Word become flesh.[7] In Hebrews, we’re reminded God’s word is a sharp two-edged sword.[8] In his hands he holds the seven stars. Again, as with the candlestands, the seven implies perfection. These stars represent the angels watching over the seven churches. Starting next week, we’ll see each church receives an individual message within the larger letter. The churches are not perfect.[9] But they can be made perfect in Christ. 

The feet of the Son of Man are bronze in John’s vision. 

Again, this leads us back to the Book of Daniel. Nebuchadnezzar had a dream of a similar being, except that its feet were clay. When struck at the feet, the entire statue falls and shatters into pieces. Daniel interpreted this dream for the King of Babylon.[10]

The vision in Daniel reminds us of the limitations of people and human organizations. Sooner or later, not only do we, but also our institutions, come to an end. Here, the feet of Christ are different. Bronze is made by combining iron and copper. Iron is strong but will rust. Copper won’t rust but is soft and pliable. But when forged together into bronze, the metals take the best from each to create an enduring material.[11]  

The feet of the comic Christ are not clay. They will stand while human organizations, sooner or later, will fail. 

Some suggest the stars in Jesus’ hands presents an anti-astrology message. Instead of looking at the stars for the fate of the world, Jesus’ hands hold its fate. It’s also challenges the Roman Empire. The true cosmic leader is not the emperor but Christ.[12]

While the vision of Christ draws on images of God, John doesn’t make Jesus and God two competing entries. Instead, John reminds us that God is revealed in Jesus Christ.[13]  

This vision overwhelms John. He falls as if dead. But Christ reaches out to lift him up and, as we often hear in Scripture when there is a divine or angelic encounter, John is told not to be afraid. Again, as we heard last week, Christ identifies himself as the first and last (or the A and Z).[14]

Here we have a connection between the cosmic Christ and the earthly one, for he announces that he was dead (and remember, John was at the foot of the cross to watch[15]), but he is now alive forever. The cosmic Christ assigns John a task. He’s to write what he has and will see. He’s also given clues to what he has seen, the symbolic meanings of the stars and lampstands.

What might we take from this passage? Can we find comfort in these words? Certainly, we can, if we follow Jesus. We are reminded, even when going into persecution, that he is with us. Jesus Christ, who remains with his church, is in control today and always. Regardless of what happens in this life, and bad things can happen, Jesus resides with us. In the life to come, we’ll reside with him. Thanks be to God. Amen. 


[1] Allan A. Boesak, Comfort and Protest: The Apocalypse from a South African Perspective (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1987), 47. 

[2] Isaiah 6 and Ezekiel 1. 

[3] Some have suggested Patmos was a prison, but most scholars disagree and see it mostly as a place of exile.  See Robert H. Mounce, The Book of Revelation, Revised (1977, Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1997),54 (especially note #5).

[4]  Mounce, 57; Bruce M. Metzger, Breaking the Code: Understanding the Book of Revelation (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1993), 26. . 

[5] G. B. Caird, The Revelation of St. John the Divine (New York: Harper & Row, 1966), 25. 

[6] Daniel 7:9-10.

[7] John 1:14. 

[8] Hebrews 4:12. 

[9] See Revelation 2 and 3. 

[10] Daniel 2:31-35.  See also https://fromarockyhillside.com/2021/08/22/gods-wisdom-vs-human-wisdom/

[11] Eugene H. Peterson, Reversed Thunder: The Revelation of John and the Praying Imagination (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988), 35-36. 

[12] M. Eugene Boring, Revelation: Interpretation, A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: JKP, 1989), 84. See also Mounce, 57. 

[13] Boring, 83. See also John 1:18 and 14:9.  

[14] See Revelation 1:4 and 1:8. See also https://fromarockyhillside.com/2025/04/27/the-beginning-of-revelation/

[15] John 19:20. Some question John of Patmos being different than John of the gospel, but I disagree as their topics are too similar. 

Reviews of my April Readings

title slide with book covers

Timothy Egan, A Fever in the Heartland: The Ku Klux Klan’s Plot to Take Over America, and the Woman Who Stopped Them 

Cover of A Fever in the Heartland

(2023, Penguin Books, 2024), 404 pages including index and notes on sources. 

A Personal note: In late 2010, I was visiting with Earl, a parishioner of First Presbyterian Church of Hastings (Michigan), who was dying.  Earl was 96 years old and had lived in Hastings since 1950. Another friend of Earl’s, who was also in his 90s, was present. I no longer remember his name, but I remember that he had grown up in Hastings and was Catholic. The man talked about coming back into town with his father, from a trip to Grand Rapids. On a field outside of the town there was a large cross burning and a huge crowd of men in white robes. His father immediately ordered him to get on the floor of the car. Fright took over his father (and him).   In the 1920s, the Klan was popular in the heartland, as Egan reminds us.  

My review:  Does character matter? Do we expect our leaders to adhere to moral standards? These are questions we should ask ourselves. After all, in the past decade, we’ve had the “me too” movement, which lead to many resignations of politicians, preachers, educators, and others in positions of leadership. Then, in a backlash, none of it seem to matter as we elect to office those convicted of sexual offenses.  The appointment of others despite moral failures including sex and drug abuse and alcoholism occur.  In a way, reading Egan’s book about a situation in the 1920s, makes me wonder what has changed. If anything, this book just makes another case proving human depravity. 

In the early 1920s, D. C. Stephenson arrived in Indiana. Within two years, he would become the Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan of the state. By the mid-20s, Indiana had the most Klan members (by percentage of population) of all the states. The Klan was no longer strictly a southern institution. Many municipalities even in the heartland already had “sundown laws,” which barred African Americans after the sunset. The Klan was also strong in Colorado and Oregon. 

The growth of the Klan in the 1920s was racist, just like the Southern Klan during Reconstruction. But they had broadened their racial views to include immigrants from Eastern Europe, especially Catholics and Jews. In the West, they added Asians to those they saw as a threat to American values. Notre Dame University became a big target in Indiana. Egan suggests that their mascot, “The Fighting Irish” came not from their undefeated football team, but the students battling the Klan who held a rally in South Bend. 

In addition to racial hatred, the Klan of the 1920s encouraged the purity of white women and supported prohibition. While the Klan was men-only, there were significant numbers of auxiliary groups for women and children.  

In Indiana, the Klan held power. They donated to both political parties and to churches with whom they sought to ally in their vision of an idolized America. They owned the governor and legislatures and local officials. People assumed Stephenson would eventually fil an empty Senate seat. The Klan was thinking big, including having eyes on the Presidency. 

But for the Klan leadership in Indiana, especially for Stephenson, the rules didn’t apply. He was a masochist and felt women were his for the taking. He used intimidation to silence women he abused. Also, with his close supporters, he not only drank, but drank to excess. 

When Stephenson set his eyes on Madge Oberholzer, an attractive young woman who’d asked for his help for her job with the state, things swirled out of control. She resisted his advances. He kidnapped her. When she made it back home, she was dying. He had not only brutally beaten her but had also severely bitten her all over her body. When she couldn’t escape, she attempted suicide. 

As she lay dying from her abuse, she dictated a statement which was notarized as her testament, a legal maneuver which allowed her to “speak from the grave,” into a court of law.  His friend, the sheriff, arrested Stephenson. But instead of eating jailhouse food, the sheriffs wife cooked his food.

Stephenson and two associates went to trial. The trial began after a lot of legal maneuvering over what could and couldn’t be admissible as evidence. While the court didn’t allow several additional women to testified of their rapes by Stephenson, it also kept out of court Stephenson’s past included an abandoned wife and child. While Stephenson’s followers attempted to bride officials and jury, the jury returned a verdict of guilty of second-degree murder.  

The trial brought to the public’s attention the hypocrisy of the Klan’s leadership. In the aftermath of the trial, the Klan in Indiana declined almost as fast as it had risen. 

Americans should read this book. The use of “American enemies” to cause a groundswell against the “others” is nothing new. Thankfully, in the 1920s, folks like Madge Oberholzer and a few brave newspapers, ministers, academics, and politicians stood fast against the rising intolerance. It’s never fun to be the one who speaks out, but speaking out is important. 

Hannah Anderson, All That’s Good: Recovering the Lost Art of Discernment 

Cover of "All That's Good"

(Chicago: Moody Publishing, 2018), 215 pages including study questions for each chapter and source notes.

I became acquainted with Anderson’s work through the HopeWords Writer’s Conference in Bluefield, West Virginia, which I have attended three times. Anderson is a regular at the conference and one of the ones who works behind the scenes to put the conference on each year. (Soon, I hope, I’ll post a review of this year’s conference).  I am also looking forward to hearing good things about her when she preaches for me this June (sadly, I’ll be out-of-state that Sunday). 

This book is divided into three parts. The first part deals with what’s good and why we should seek it out. In part 2, Anderson approaches discernment using Paul’s exhortations at the end of Philippians. Drawing on verses 8 and 9, she works through the verses dealing with “whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely and commendable. In Part 3, she looks at the meaning of the good and how we’re to work through a community for the common good. 

Anderson writing is a pleasure to read. She draws on her own memories to illustrate her points. I recommend this book to those interested in fostering a world where we celebrate the good, the beautiful, and the empathic.  This is the second book I’ve read by Anderson. The first, Humble Roots, I reviewed in 2022.

Pat Conroy, The Great Santini 

(1976, HarperAudio 2023), 18 hours and 4 minutes. 

It’s 1960. Having just returned to America from a stint in the Mediterranean, Bull Meacham is given the command of his own Marine Corp Fighter Squadron in Ravenell, SC. He meets up with his family in Atlanta, where they had been staying with his wife (Lillian) family. They then make a long early morning drive across Georgia and South Carolina. That drive seems to take forever, but in it we get to experience characteristics of Bull and his family. None of his children want to move, especially Ben, who will be a senior in high school. They’ve all been through this drill of having to make friends again. 

Ben quickly makes two friends. One is a Jewish boy whom he comes to his aid during a fight and the other is a stuttering young African American man who raises flowers, produce, and honey as well as collecting oysters and gigging flounder for a living. Sadly, Ben loses both friends. The Jewish boy’s family sends him for safety while another white boy kills the African American. 

While this goes on, Ben finally beats his father in one-on-one basketball. Bull’s lost didn’t go over well. His father, the Great Santini, fears getting older. He also fears changes to his beloved Marine Corps, that they’re losing their toughness.  A few characteristics of his father became grating by the end of the book. When he would enter the home, he’d shout, “Stand by for a fighter pilot.” He would call those he’s talking to, “Sports Fans.” 

Ben finds his place in high school on the basketball team. He becomes the star, but his father comes to a game drunk and encourages Ben to take out a kid on the opposing team he’s guarding. Ben snaps and breaks the boys arm, which ends with him kicked off the team for the remaining of the season. When Ben turns 18, his father takes him to the officer’s club. Ben comes home drunk, like his father, ruining the planned family dinner that evening. 

This book touches on many themes. Child and spouse abuse, father/son relationships, coming of age, race relationships, life in a small southern town in the early 1960s, and the Yankee/Southern conflict (Bull was from Chicago and Lillian from the South). The story is fictionalized, but Conroy draws on his famil experiencesy. I have heard his novel didn’t go over well in his family and I can see why.  In real life, the Great Santini didn’t die as he does in the book (which I left out of the book as it would be a spoiler). Conroy later wrote a nonfiction book about his father titled The Death of Santini. 

I enjoyed the story. The book is easy to follow. Conroy tells it in a chronological fashion. There are similar themes to the other Conroy books I’ve read (Prince of the Tides, The Water is Wide, and South of Broad). All these books center on the Low Country of South Carolina. Thoese (except for The Water is Wide) were published later in Conroy’s life and show a more mature writer.  I have also seen the movie, which came out in 1979, but it’s been decades so I don’t remember enough to compare the book and the movie.

Two Commentaries on the Gospel of Mark

Mark commentaries

James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 550 pages 

Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark (1991, Hendrickson Publishers, 1997), 424 pages

For the past sixteen months I have been working my way through the gospel of Mark. I have preached 53 sermons from Mark. At the beginning, I read through one short commentary by Doug Hare, a former professor of mine. Then, I read through these two commentaries as I worked my way through the gospel, finishing both this past month. 

Of the two commentaries on Mark, my favorite would be the one by James Edwards. I first became familiar with his writing with his excellent 2015 commentary on Luke. This commentary on Mark was published 14 years earlier. Both books are a part of the “Pilar New Testament Commentary” series.  This author is very familiar with the early church and the role Mark’s gospel in the early church. I have previously reviewed his book From Christ to Christianity My complaint is that the author didn’t do his own translation and seems to mostly depend on the New International Version of the Bible.

The commentary is easy to read and follow. I especially liked Edward’s use of “Mark’s sandwiches”, a literary technique in the second gospel in which two different themes merge into one passage. The first is mentioned, then Mark moves off on what seems to be a tangent as he writes about something else., Then he returns to the first subject. Soon, having been introduced to the concept, I found such constructions even before reading the commentary. By playing the two ideas off each other helps the reader of the gospel to grasp deeper thoughts. 

I also appreciated how Edwards, when things needed more explanation, would insert an “Excursus” to better explain an idea. 

The second commentary by Morna Hooker was republished as a part of Black’s New Testament Commentaries Series.  In this series, the author was expected to provide her own translation, which she does while admitting that she started her work using the New English and Revised Standard Versions of scripture. Hooker is retired but taught at Cambridge (and the commentary does have an “English feel” to it). 

Like Edwards commentary, Hooker’s work is easy to read and understand. Neither commentary gets so far into the weeds that one has difficulty following. With her own translation of the text, Hooker’s work is a welcomed addition to the more traditional types of commentaries. 

In addition to these commentaries, I have also read all or parts of commentaries by Douglas R. A. Hare, Mark: Westminster Bible Companion (Louisville, KY: WJKP, 1996), William L. Lane, The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 1974), Mary Ann Tolbert, Sowing the Gospel: Mark’s World in Literary-Historical Perspective (1989, Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996); Brian K. Blount, Go Preach! Mark’s Kingdom Message and the Black Church Today (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Press, 1998), and David Rhoads and Donald Michie, Mark as Story: An Introduction of the Narrative of a Gospel (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1982). 

The beginning of Revelation

title slide with photo of the two churches the sermon is to be preached

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
April 27, 2025
Revelation 1:1-8

The sermon was recorded at Mayberry on Friday, April 25, 2025.

At the beginning of Worship
In 1993, we took the train out west. I was invited to interview with the Pastor Nominating Committee for Community Presbyterian Church in Cedar City, Utah. We decided to make it a vacation. I took two weeks off, spending time exploring old mining towns like Pioche, Nevada along with Bryce Canyon, Zion Canyon, and the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.  While I didn’t know it at the time, I would spend the next decade living in that area.

After our trip was over, we got back on the train in Las Vegas.[1] Exhausted, Iwent to sleep soon afterwards. Around 4 AM, I noticed we weren’t moving. It was dark out and I couldn’t see much. I assumed we were on a siding waiting for a freight train to pass. 

A little after 6 AM, I got up and went to the lounge car for coffee. We still hadn’t moved, and I was curious about what had happened. I asked the car attendant. He said we’d “died on the line.” I wasn’t familiar with this term and asked what it meant. It refers to the operating crew (the engineers and conductors) exceeding the hours they can legally work. When this happens, standing orders requires them to pull their train onto the first available siding and wait for a replacement crew. We were in remote area of the Black Rock Desert of Utah this morning. It took them 4 hours to get a crew to us. 

Then, as this was a year of terrible flooding in the mid-west, they’d lowered the speed limit along much of the line because the ground was so soft. By then, we were running too late to make our connection in Chicago. The tempers of passengers ran little thin. Yet, the car attendances did everything they could to make the trip pleasant. When the dining car ran out of food (since they had two more meals to serve than planned), we stopped in some small town in Iowa. A van waited beside the tracks, filled with boxes of Kentucky Fried Chicken. 

They assured us they’d be someone to help in Chicago with alternative transportation or hotels. On top of it all, they remained calm and pleasant at during a trying situation. 

Those of us who make up the church need to be like those attendants on that train. We should maintain a positive outlook while we encourage one another and keep out eyes on Jesus. While it may not always appear this way, he has everything under control.

Before reading the scripture:

For the next couple of months, I’m going to be preaching on the first opening chapters of the book of Revelation. Remember, this book is singular. It’s not Revelations, but Revelation.

Sometimes even those who print the Bible call the book “The Revelation of John. That, too, is wrong.

The title of the books in the Bible were added much later. In the opening verse, we learn it’s the Revelation of Jesus Christ to his servant John. 

This book is a letter to the seven churches of Asia. These churches are in what we know today as Western Turkey. 

Read Revelation 1:1-8

As you may have gleamed from my opening story this morning, I love trains. There’s something about being on a train and watching the landscape change. People on trains are not as hurried as they are on airplanes. 

I’ve mentioned before how trains can serve as a metaphor for the Christian journey. Many gospel songs express this. “Life is like a Mountain Railway” has the refrain: “Keep your hand upon the throttle and your eye upon the rail. Blessed Savior, thou wilt guide us…” Or the old African American spiritual sung by the likes of Woody Guthrie and Peter, Paul, and Mary, “This train is bound for glory.”

I’ve always thought the long-haul train as an example of our Chrisitan lives. In winter, they assemble trains filled with produce in Southern California. Three days later, the produce is served in restaurants in Chicago. A day later, it’s being sold and served on the east coast. It’s quite amazing. One engineer doesn’t take the train across the nation, over 3,000 miles. Instead, every 8 to 10 hours, a new crew takes over, so that by the time the train pulls into Chicago or New York, a dozen or more crews have been at the controls. 

Christ’s Church operates in a similar way. Pastors come and go. So do elders. So do members. Sometimes the tracks are smooth, and the train makes good time. Other times, curves and hills, mudslides and washed-out ballast, slows the train down. Likewise, with the church, there are times things go well, and other times we struggle. 

When it’s our time to take over the throttle, we must ask ourselves, “Are we being faithful to Jesus Christ?” “Are we doing our best to safely move the train a little further down the track, knowing that we’re a part of something much larger than ourselves? As the church, we’re a part of something eternal, as we see in our morning reading from the Revelation of Jesus Christ. 

The letter proper begins in verse 4, with two words: grace and peace, words I often use at the beginning of worship. The order is important. Grace, which comes from God, is always first and a prerequisite for peace. Without God’s grace, we’d be lost.[2]Without grace, there can be no peace. 

John indicated three sources for this grace and peace. First, it comes from the “Lord God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.” This paraphrases God in Exodus, who revealed himself to Moses as the great “I am who I am.”[3] God is revealed as the eternal one, the one beyond our comprehension. God is creator and present throughout history. The second source comes from the seven spirits. There’s some debate over the meaning of this, but I think there is much merit in the ancient believe that this is a reference to the Holy Spirit. Throughout the Book of Revelation, seven is considered the number of perfection and the seven spirits imply the Spirit’s fulness.[4] The third source of this greeting is from Jesus Christ. 

The three sources of greetings, from God the Father, the Holy Spirit, and Jesus Christ the son provide us with a Trinitarian view of the Godhead. It’s a little strange to have the Spirit ahead of the Son (we usually think of Father, Son, and Spirit[5]), but this construct allows john to slip seamlessly into detail about Jesus Christ, God’s revelation to us.

John tells us Jesus Christ is God’s faithful witness. He reveals God to us and by knowing him, we can know God the Father.[6] Remember, this book was written to churches soon experience persecution. Many believers would die. Many more would die over the next two thousand years for their faith as we saw this month with over 240 deaths of Christians in Nigeria.[7]

Jesus is designated as “firstborn of the dead.” This title encourages those about to face martyrdom, reminding them (and us) that life on earth is temporary. We have eternity to which to look forward. Furthermore, Jesus is the ruler of the kings of the earth. We may live in fear of earthly kings. But we should never forget that one day everyone will be called to account. And just because one has the power of a king on earth and can seemingly do what he or she wants doesn’t mean they’ll not be held accountable for their actions.

John’s description of our Lord continues at a personal level as he reminds his readers (and us) what Jesus has done. “We’re loved, we’re freed from our sin, and we’ve been brought into a kingdom, a family, where we’re established as priests who serve God forever. One of our most important Protestant doctrines is the “Priesthood of All Believers.”[8] As priests, all glory should flow from us to the eternal God.

In verses seven, John refers to Jesus’ return. Going back to his reminder that Jesus is the “King of kings,” we’re further reminded that upon his return everyone (including those who killed him) will see Jesus. Of course, for some, this will cause a great deal of concern and there will be wailing and weeping from those who nailed Jesus to the cross or harmed his followers. 

As I said earlier, Revelation is written as a letter and today, we’re looking at the salutation section. This ends at verse eight, which reflects on what we’ve already heard in verse 4. Jesus is eternal, co-eternal with the Father.[9] I am the Alpha and the Omega (the A and the Z we might translate it). Jesus is Almighty, who was, who is, and who is to come. Later, in Revelation, we’ll see other titles for Jesus, such as the lamb slain who rules in glory.[10]

Jesus’ sacrifice leads to his glory.  And if we follow Jesus, we should not worry about the cost. The benefits will outweigh the costs and the suffering we might endure. In the end, God through Jesus Christ will be victorious and those who follow Jesus will share in the victory. That’s the message of the Revelation. Amen.


[1] At this time, there are no trains through Las Vegas. But in the 1990s, the “Desert Wind” ran from Los Angeles, through Las Vegas, and joined the California Zephyr in Salt Lake City. 

[2] Bruce M. Metzger, Breaking the Code: Understanding the Book of Revelation (Nashville, Abingdon, 1993), 23. 

[3] Exodus 3:14-15. 

[4] See Metzger, 23-24. The idea of this being the Holy Spirit was made in a 6th century commentary on Revelation by Andrew of Caesarea, Commentary on the Apocalypse, 1.4. For alternative interpretations of the seven spirits, see Robert H. Mounce, The Book of Revelation, revised (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1997), 46-47.

[5] See Matthew 28:19. 

[6] John 14:7.

[7] https://www.christianitydaily.com/news/nigerias-christians-suffer-losses-in-april-death-surpasses-240.html

[8] See “The Second Helvetic Confession,” Presbyterian Church USA, Book of Confession, 5.154. 

[9] Westminster Confession of Faith, VII.1, and The Nicene Creed. 

[10] Revelation 5:12-13. The word “Lamb” appears 29 times in Revelation. 

A Week on Iona

Photo of author on the isle of Sraffa

To read about my journey from Edinburgh to Iona, click here. The trip involved two trains and two ferries!

Iona Abbey from the water
The abbey from the ferry (on the day we left)

Grasping the rail to hold steady, I stand on the starboard catwalk looking out across the waters. I pull up the hood on my rain jacket.  I could go below, but I want to face the angry sea.  The engines roar and black smoke puffs from the stack as the ferry pulls away from the Flonnphort’s dock.  Moments later, we are in open water.  The north wind whistles through the channel separating Mull from Iona. The pilot steers the boat into the wind, but the waves and tide push us southward.  He increases speed as I spread my legs apart in order to remain upright. The boat rolls back and forth in the waves. 

North end of Iona looking toward Mull
North end of Iona, looking toward Mull

In a few minutes, we’re well out into the channel. The Abbey is clearly visible, standing tall in the shadow of Dun I, the high point on the island.  We’re just the latest travelers, joining a hoard of pilgrims reaching back to the sixth century.  I have no idea what the week will bring, but the roughness of the channel reminds me of the island’s isolation.  The ferry pushes harder as we approach the landing. The pilot steers the boat up into the wind then lands on the ramp.  There is no natural harbor in Iona.  The pilot keeps the engines engaged, keeping the boat in position as the crew lowers the bow ramp.  The two cars onboard are allowed to drive off first, then the two dozen or so of us passengers follow.  The first off the boat get wet when a wave breaks and crashes over the ramp.  The rest of us learn to time our departure, waiting till a lull to move out on the ramp and to quickly make our way to shore.  We’re on Iona.   

The Abbey on Iona with a large Celtic cross

On Pentecost, 563, an Irish abbot named Columba and a group of twelve disciples landed on a pebble covered cove on the south end of Iona. They found on this small island what they were looking for and established a religious community.  At this time, sea travel was easier than traveling overland on non-existent roads. The small island became a center of faith and learning that extended throughout the mainland of Britain and Ireland and surrounding islands.  Some scholars believe the Book of Kells was originally produced here.  Others think the large standing Celtic crosses, so common in Scotland and Ireland, were first carved on this island. 

looking toward Mull
Looking across toward Mull

The religious community thrived on Iona for the next couple hundred years.  People would travel by sea, making a pilgrimage to the island of the saint known as Columba. Scottish Kings sought out the island for burial.  Legend has it that even MacBeth, of Shakespeare’s fame, is buried here.  

Around the tenth century, hostile visitors from the north, the Vikings, arrived.  With their art and wealth, churches and monasteries were attractive targets.  After several raids and the deaths of scores of monks, Iona was abandoned as a center of learning.  Most of the monks moved back to Ireland. 

Augustine nunnery
Augustine nunnery

By the twelfth century, the Viking threat had faded.  The Benedictine Order reestablished the monastery on Iona, building the current Abbey.  They were joined by an Augustine nunnery, whose ruins are just south of the Abbey.  These two continued to thrive till the Scottish Reformation in 1560. Afterwards, the site began to crumble.  But pilgrims and visitors continued to come.

In 1829, Felix Mendelssohn visited and although the seas were rough and he suffered from sea sickness, he was inspired to compose the Hebridean Overture on the nearby island of Staffa.   A “Who’s Who” of British authors also made the trip including John Keats, Robert Lewis Stevenson, naturalist Joseph Banks, Dr. Samuel Johnson, James Boswell, Sir Walter Scott and William Wordsworth

After the abandonment of the monastery, the property came under the control of the Duke of Argyll.  Over time, with the harsh wet climate of Iona, the trusses rotted and the roof caved in. In the 19th Century, George Douglas Campbell, the eighth Duke of Argyll, began restoring the Abbey. Although a devout member of the Church of Scotland (Presbyterian), he allowed a number of different denominations (Presbyterians, Scottish Episcopal and Roman Catholic) to use the site for worship.  Before his death, he deeded the grounds to the Iona Trust which has responsibility today for maintaining the site.  The site is open to all denominations.  Since the 1930s, the site has been operated by the Iona Community which uses it to hold ecumenical worship and to train people to work with the poor around the world.   

puffins
Puffins on Staffa

Those who wish to participate with the community today are expected to spend a minimum of a week on the island.  Guests live as a part of the community, staying in dormitory rooms (six or eight people of the same sex per room). The guests help with the cooking and the cleaning, and participating in morning worship and evening prayers.  The community strives to bring people together from all over the world as a way to foster a better understanding of one another.  Groups meet together for Bible Study as well as to discuss other topics, with plenty of free time to explore the island or to take boat trips around the island or to other islands.  Staffa, a small island with unique geology, known for puffins that nest there in the summer and “Fingal’s Cave” is a popular destination.

Straffa
Straffa landscape

I spend my week on Iona meeting with a group led by two professors of British Universities.  Both are poets.  One teaches English while the other teaches in a seminary.  As for my chores, I am in the kitchen, mostly chopping vegetables.  Although the food is not exclusively vegetarian (we had meat three times during the week), we ate lots of wonderful vegetarian dishes that included roasted root vegetables and thick soups, all prepared from scratch.  

With my spare time I hike around the island.  Daily, generally around sunset (10:30 PM), I hike to the top of Dun I, the high point of the island.  The sunsets are incredible. At night, I can see distant lighthouses. One of the lighthouses was built by Robert Lewis Stevenson’s father in the early nineteenth century to warn boaters of Torran Rocks. This is also the site Stevenson’s chose for the shipwreck in. his book, “Kidnapped.’  I also gaze out on other islands in both the Inner and Outer Hebrides chain.  Twilight seems to go on forever and provides some of the most beautiful light on the island and sea.

Sunset from Dun I, on Iona

Friday is my last day and I, along with many other pilgrims, are leaving on the 8:15 AM ferry.  Its drizzling rain, but calmer than the day I’d arrived. The Iona staff gather at the dock to wish us a safe trip.  Once the ferry lands in Fionnphort, there’s no time to waste.  A bus waits. We load up and ride across the Ross of Mull and Glen More, to Craignure, where we meet another ferry.  It’s nearly an hour over to the mainland, to Oban, where we board a waiting train.

Worship in the Abbey
Worship in the Abbey

Most of those whom I’d spent time with on Iona continue on to Glasgow and home.  But not me.  At Crainlarich, where the Oban branch merges onto the Northwest Highlands mainline, I say my goodbyes to friends and step off the train. Thirty minutes later, I board a northbound train, taking me through Fort Williams and over the Glenfinnan trestle (made famous in the Harry Potter movies), and on to Mallaig where I catch the ferry to the Isle of Skye.  

Magazine cover of Skinnie Magazine in which this story first appeared.

This story originally appeared in The Skinnie, a magazine for Skidaway Island, on September 22 , 2017.

 ScotRail

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Easter Sunday in Mark

Photo of Mayberry and Bluemont Churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
Easter Sunday (April 20th) 2025
Mark 16:1-8

Sermon taped at Bluemont on Friday, April 18, 2024

At the beginning of worship:

During the Kosovo War, a journalist filed a report about ethnic Albanian deportees in Macedonia. He described the rage experienced by Kosovan professors, writers, and other intellectuals who were robbed not only of their homes but also their books, papers, files—their irreplaceable life’s work. “Can such a deep hurt ever heal?” asked a reporter? Their editor, also an Albanian, then told them a story he’d heard as a child:

There was a naughty boy whose father would hammer a nail into a piece of wood every time his son would do something naughty. One day the boy asked why, and when it was explained, the boy decided he would behave better. Each time he did something good his father would remove a nail from the board. Eventually, all the nails came out…. Yes, the nails were gone,” he said. “But the holes always remained.”[1]

In John’s gospel we’re told Jesus’ wounds remained visible even after the resurrection. Thomas, when he heard Jesus was alive, questioned it and proclaimed that unless he felt the holes in his savior’s hands, he wouldn’t believe. And when Jesus next saw Thomas, he invited him to come forward and stick his finger in the holes of his hands and to place his hand in the side where the spear pierced. Thomas then not only believed, he became the first to declare Jesus to be God.[2]  

The resurrected Jesus still had his wounds. So will we, who are wounded in this life. But our wounds will become beautiful. They’re signs of what Paul refers to when he says, “we’ve fought the good fight, finished the race, and kept the faith.”[3] On Easter, let’s remember and celebrate Jesus Christ, the one who leads the way. He’s the one we’re to follow, and who gives us hope for the life and the world to come.  

Before reading the Scripture

Today, we’re completing our time in the gospel of Mark by looking at the original ending of the book. Mark ends at Mark 16:8. Mark’s original ending leaves the reader hanging, wondering what happened. It has been well documented that verses 9 to 20 were added much later than the rest of the book.[4]

Throughout the book, Mark focuses on the life of Jesus and that’s true even at the end. Matthew ends with the resurrected Christ giving the commission to the disciples to go out and establish the church. Luke carries on through Acts, showing the early growth of the church. As John’s gospel nears the ends, Jesus insists that Peter tend Jesus’ sheep.[5] In other words, Peter is to take care of those in the church. 

Mark, on the other hand, primarily focuses on Jesus, his life and death. I think Mark assumes his audience knows Jesus’ the church has been established. What Mark emphasizes throughout the book is that Jesus is God and, when he comes to the Garden of Gethsemane as we saw last week, also human. While Mark has no nativity story like Matthew and Luke, we do learn the truth of the incarnation. In the life of Jesus, God becomes a man. 

Mark provides less details of Jesus’ resurrection than the other gospels. We don’t hear of Jesus appearing to Mary, at least not right away.[6] There’s no race between Peter and John to the tomb.[7] Nor are their guards placed at the door of the tomb to make sure no one takes Jesus’ body.[8] Instead, Mark just gives the bare details and leaves it up to us to interpret. Let’s hear. 

Read Mark 16:1-8

Our reading begins after the Sabbath. Jesus’ placement into the tomb came as the sun approached the horizon. Once the sun had set, the Sabbath began. The Hebrew calendar begins with the setting of the sun, not the rising. If any of you have seen Fiddler on the Roof, you’ll remember this. For the period after the sunset through the sunset, nothing that wasn’t necessary was to be done. It was a time of rest and meditation. 

When the sun set the next evening, the Sabbath was over. We can imagine at this point; the two Marys and Salome went out as markets opened and purchasing the necessary spices to anoint Jesus body. 

Then, as it was already dark, they wait until the next morning. With the sun having risen, they head to the tomb. Mark makes it obvious, these women assumed Jesus was going to be in the tomb and in need of the perfume as his body would have begun to decay. So, just after sunrise, they go to the tomb wondering how they’ll be able to force the stone away from it. But arriving, they realize the stone has already been rolled away. Bravely, they entered the tomb and Jesus is not there. Instead, there is a young man in white (whom we’re left to assume is an angel, a heavenly Messager). 

In scripture, angels are always telling people to “Fear not,” which doesn’t seem to do a lot of good for fear naturally arises when we experience something like this. He tells the women not to fear and that Jesus, who was crucified, has now been raised from the dead. He invites them to look at where he’d been laid. At the end of the day, before the Sabbath, the woman had watched as Joseph placed Jesus into his tomb.[9] Now they see he’s gone. 

Next, they’re told to tell the disciples and Peter (perhaps Peter is mentioned by name because he had denied Jesus three times the morning of Jesus’ trial) that Jesus will meet them in Galilee.  

This is too much for the women for they run out of the temple in terror and amazement, forgetting to tell anyone what they’d seen. Of course, that begs the question, how do we know about Jesus and his resurrection? 

Brian Blount, a retired professor from Union Seminary in Richmond, offers an interpretation here that is unique. Brian finds the key in the command to go back to Galilee, where Jesus began his ministry. He sees this important, go back to the beginning, in which Jesus began with the claim that God’s kingdom has come near.[10]  And it’s up to the reader to take up the call to preach the good news.[11]

We’re the ones who called to proclaim what God has done for us through Jesus Christ, who died for our sin and who is resurrected, providing us hope in the life to come. The burden of the gospel is shifted to us, to the church, to offer hope to the world. 

Over the past sixteen months, I have been preaching through the Gospel of Mark. I did this to encourage you to look seriously at the life of Jesus. We’re all called to follow him and to be his disciples. In Mark, there is a distinction between “the twelve” and the disciples. The 12 are the inner core. But disciples are men and women who follow Jesus. And we’re included in the list of disciples. What have we learned about Jesus from Mark which we should use to mold our lives in his image? 

Unlike Luke or John, Mark provides no reason for his gospel. Some have thought that with the Apostles dying, Mark felt it necessary to provide a portrait of Jesus for the Hellenistic or Greek world which surrounded the Mediterranean Sea. This Mark does with his fast pacing, as he captures moments of Jesus’ ministry, even showing Jesus’ irony and how he surprises people.[12]

Others suggested Mark is one long passion narrative with an extended introduction.[13] I see a value in such an understanding, especially since in the early church, to claim the death of your hero as one crucified went against common perception of the cross.[14] Instead of seeing the cross showing the brutal power of Rome to deal with its enemies, real and perceived, the cross becomes the symbol of the church who follows the crucified one.  

Finally, as we’ve seen throughout, the gospel is about Jesus. Only two passages in Mark are about anyone else; both are about John the Baptist, whose role was to point to Jesus. And we’re to be about Jesus. As followers of Jesus, we celebrate his resurrection, but we also look to him to see how we should live. Amen. 


[1] New York Times, April 26, 1999, as quoted by Fleming Rutledge, The Crucifixion: Understanding the Death of Jesus Christ(Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2015), 115. 

[2] John 20:24-27. 

[3] 2 Timothy 4:7.

[4] I spoke more about the various endings of Mark last Easter. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/03/31/easter-2024/

[5] John 21:15-19.

[6] In the “Longer Ending of Mark,” which was added much later, Jesus does met Mary Magdalene that first day. See Mark 16:9. In verse 8, she flees the tomb. In verse 9, she does go to tell the rest of Jesus’ friends. 

[7] John 20:3ff. 

[8] Matthew 27:62-66. 

[9] Mark 15:40.

[10] Mark 1:14-15.

[11] Brian K. Blount, Go Preach! Mark’s Kingdom Message and the Black Church Today (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1998), 188-189. 

[12] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 12.

[13] Douglas R. A. Hare, Mark: Westminster Bible Companion (Louisville, KY: WJKP, 1996), 7-8. 

[14] Robert H. Gundry, in his 1993 commentary on Mark, takes this approach. Hare, 6.