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Salt and Light

Title slide with pictures of the two rock churches along the Blue Ridge Parkway

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
February 15, 2026
Matthew 5:13-20

At the beginning of worship:
Did you hear about the guy pulled over by police? The officer asked if it was his car. He said yes. Then the officer had him step out of the car and put his hands on the hood. He handcuffed the man and hauled into the station on suspicion of stealing a car. Yet, the man kept insisting it was his car. The officer put him into the holding tank and, taking his license and registration, began to check out his story. 

Thirty minutes later, the officer released the man and apologized. “I couldn’t believe it was your car,” the officer said. “You have all those bumper stickers about loving Jesus and and following you to church. When I saw you give the finger and heard you shouting obscenities and lay on your horn at that poor driver who was obviously lost, I just assumed you stole the vehicle.” 

You know, actions speak louder than words. If we’re a follower of Jesus, we need to remember this. 

Before reading the scriptures:
The last two weeks, we looked at the beatitudes, which make up the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount.[1]  I hope you read or watched those sermons on-line as we had to canceled in person worship due to ice and snow. Today, we’re heading into the middle portion of the Jesus’ sermon.  

Jesus begins with two emphatic statements directed at his audience. You are the salt and the light of the world. But these statements are not to be taken individually. The “You” used here is plural. If Jesus gave this sermon here, he’d say, “Y’all.” It’s all of us. Those who believe and accept Jesus, in other words, the church, are the salt and the light of the world.[2] We’ll look at what that means. Next, Jesus teaches about his relationship with Scripture and the Covenant. 

Let’s look at what Jesus has to say here.

Read Matthew 5:13-20

What does it mean to be the salt and the light of the world today? You know, salt is important. We tend to take it for granted, except for the past few weeks with ice everywhere, stores quickly sold out of salt. 

In the ancient world, salt was even more valuable and harder to come by than today during an ice storm. It preserved food and likewise, we’re to help preserve the world. When used sparingly in cooking, it helps enhance the flavor. We’re to flavor the world with Jesus’ grace. And, in a world without modern medicine, they applied salt to wounds to assist in healing. We’re to help heal the world.

Oddly, as a friend wrote on this passage, we’re the first generation to be paranoid about our use of salt.[3] Too much of it, we know, causes hypertension and other health problems. But we must have some, or we have other issues. Salt is the only mineral we take straight from the earth and consume. So, when Jesus said the church is the salt of the earth, he wants us to spice the world up, to help preserve the world, and to help heal it. 

In a way, light is like salt. Compared to light in the ancient world, it’s cheap. We have light everywhere. Sometimes we have so much light it becomes a determent of our ability to see things like the stars. Thankfully, we live where the skies are dark and the stars shine brightly, but that’s not the case if you live in an urban area. In a world without electricity and bright LEDs, when the sun wasn’t up or the moon down, you appreciated light. The only light came from campfires, or candles, or oil lamps. Each of these have a limit as to how far you could see before you slipped back into darkness. 

When I lived in Utah, I drove across central Nevada several times at night. I took highway 50, which Life Magazine claimed back in the 1950s to be the loneliest road in America. The other path was a combination of US 6 and Nevada 375, which is even a lonelier road, as you seldom saw a car at night.[4] 

Cutting across the state, you crossed many block-fault mountains which run north and south. Coming off the summits, you’d often see your next town, just a few lights clustered together, way off in the distance. The next sign of civilization, far away. If you needed gas, you’d hope that within the oasis of light a gas station remained open. Or if you didn’t need gas, you’d hope there was a place for coffee to keep you away. As for gas, I always tried to keep my tank above the halfway mark. 

As the church, we’re to be light helping guide the world. Maybe a better metaphor would be navigation lights which help boaters travel narrow waterways and inlets. In the daytime, you have buoys, but at night the buoys have colored lights on them. Remember the three R’s of navigation: red, right, returning. If you are coming into an inlet at night, you keep the red lights or buoys on your right or starboard side. The green ones go on your left or port side. As a church, as the light in the world, we guide people to Jesus, just as navigation lights guide people safely through an inlet. 

Both opening metaphors apply to how we live. Do we point the way to Jesus, or do we get so tied up in the world’s business and lose focus on what’s important? Interestingly, Jesus doesn’t tell us to become the salt or the light of the world. Nor does he tell us to become salter or shine brighter. Instead, he grants us these abilities. But there’s a warning here. If we squander these gifts, if we fail to use them for Jesus’ purposes, for God’s glory, we become worthless. Salt without flavor or a light hidden is of no use for the world. But if we use them properly, others can see through our efforts, God’s glory. 

Our next section deals with the purpose of Jesus’ ministry. Why did Jesus come? Was it to negate what God has been doing through Israel for the past 15 or 20 centuries? No, there’s still value in that work. 

When Jesus speaks of the Law and the Prophets, he’s referring to the entirety of the Hebrew Scriptures or what we call the Old Testament. Some Christians may attempt to ignore the Old Testament, but that’s not Jesus’ way. He values scripture and regularly quotes or alludes to passages from the Psalms and other books of the Hebrew Bible, especially Genesis and Isaiah. 

By linking the Law and the Prophets together, Jesus refers to a new covenant. The first covenant of the Hebrew people was established with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and renewed with Moses and Joshua and the Hebrew people. But in the latter part of Isaiah, God through the prophet speaks of a new covenant, one where Israel is to be the light to the nations.[5] The old covenant has been fulfilled, this new covenant will extend beyond the ethnicity of the Jews to all people. 

As I have pointed out repeatedly as we’ve gone through the opening chapters of Matthew, this gospel is most concern with Jesus’ message going out into the world. We see that in the beginning with the foreign wisemen coming to Jesus and at the end of the gospel with Jesus sending the disciples out to all corners of the earth.

What might we learn from this passage? While much of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount deals with our interior lives as we saw with the Beatitudes and will observe in the weeks ahead, we also see the importance of living in a manner which honors God. Once Jesus ascended to heaven after the resurrection, he left behind a church to do his work. That’s us. We’re to live in such a manner that people will want to be like us. As the old spiritual goes, “They’ll know we are Christians by our love.”  Will they? Amen. 

[1] See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2026/01/31/the-beatitudes-part-1-blessings-on-those-in-need/ and https://fromarockyhillside.com/2026/02/07/the-beatitudes-part-2/

[2] Douglas R. A. Hare,Matthew: Interpretation, a Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: WJKP, 1993), 44; and Fredrick Dale Bruner, The Christbook: Matthew 1-12 (1990, Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2004). 187-194.

[3] Scott Hoezee, https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2020-02-03/matthew-513-20-2/

[4] I wrote about one of these trips. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2025/09/25/nevada-375-and-rachel-nevada/

[5] Jonathan T. Pennington, The Sermon on the Mount and Human Flourishing: A Theological Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, ), 166-167.  See also Isaiah 42:6.

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Bodie, California

title slide with photo of road leading into Bodie
The Methodist Episcopal Church in Bodie

In early October, Sandy, a woman I had dated while in Pittsburgh that spring, flew in. She had an interview for a job in California, but before that spent a few days with me. On Friday night, we checked out the bars and nightlife in Virginia City, listening to Murray Mack pound the piano playing ragtime tunes. Then, on Saturday, we went with Victor in his old Bronco and checked out the country around the Comstock.  We were looking for the petrographs, which we never found. Then, on Sunday, after church, we packed up and headed South on US 395, with plans to visit Yosemite from the backside. I don’t remember if someone had suggested I check out Bodie or if I learned about the town on this trip. 

This being in early fall, bursts of yellow aspen dotted the mountains on both sides of the highway. Unlike in the East, where the fall landscape becomes colorful with reds, yellows, and oranges, in the West color shows up in patches up on the hillside. Our first stop was for ice cream at Bridgeport, an old town on the east side of the Sierras. Then we went to Mono Lake, a place I’d wanted to see since reading Mark Twain’s Roughing It late that spring. It was one of several books I read in preparation to moving to Nevada for a year. While at the lake, we saw the unique geological monuments left behind by calcium springs when the water was higher and experienced the brine flies that cover the shoreline. Thankfully, they don’t bite. 

Mono Lake looking toward the Sierras. I took this photo in 2013

As the light began to fade, we headed to Lee Vining where I rented the last hotel room in the town. This older hotel had shared bathrooms, something I was surprised to find in America in the late 1980s.

The next morning, we rose early and drove over the Tioga Pass to Tuolumne Meadows on the backside of Yosemite. Most everything had closed for the season, so after hiking a bit, we had to head back to Lee Vining for lunch. 

After lunch, we drove to Bridgeport, turned east and drove 13 miles on mostly a gravelly wash boarded road. At one point, we crossed a ridge and Bodie stood in front of us with mountains rising behind the town. The town’s old woodened structures and the mill’s industrial complex sheltered under tin, appeared to rise out of the sagebrush. Coming into town, we saw only a few trees, cottonwoods and aspen, nestled in ravines which protected them from the strong winds. We parked, paid our entrance fee as Bodie is now a California State Park, and proceed to spend several hours walking around the old buildings.  

The road leading into Bodie. Parking is below the town and visitors must walk

Bodie shares a few things in common with Virginia City. Both areas were discovered in the late 1850s, just before American fell into the Civil War. But Bodie’s start was slower than the mines along the Comstock.  While Virginia City was remote, it was only 10 miles north of the Pony Express and the Overland Stagecoach route. Dayton, Mormon Station and Carson City, while small towns, were all close, while Bodie had only Bridgeport, which was not much more than a stage stop. And the Southern Sierras are higher and wider than the those around Carson City. So Bodie was harder to reach. 

Warning sign on road to Aurora r

However, 15 or 20 miles east of Bodie sits Aurora, Nevada. It’s discovery also occurred around the same time as Bodie. Aurora had higher grade of ore and in the early 1860s became very prosperous. One of its citizens in 1862, who learned how difficult mining came be, was Samuel Clemens. While in Aurora, he wrote a series of articles and mailed them to the Territorial Enterprise, a leading Nevada newspaper in Virginia City. This lead to a job which didn’t involve a pick or shovel and there, as a reporter, Clemens would begin to go by his nom-de-plume, Mark Twain. Sadly, lacking a high clearance 4-wheel drive vehicle, I never made it to Aurora. 

In addition to its isolation, Bodie sits at 8300 feet, two thousand feet higher than Virginia City. This is harsh territory.  While the Sierras capture much of the snow, it still snows here and there’s little protection from the bitter wind. It’s amazing to consider that once Bodie came into its own in the late 1870s, as Virginia City’s production declined, 10,000 people lived amongst these hills. In those early years, the town developed a mystic as a very violent place. Supposedly, one young girl whose family were leaving Virginia City for Bodie said, “Goodbye God, we’re moving to Bodie.” But such was the life early on in mining camps, which were mostly populated with men. 

Then, as with all mining towns, in the early-1880s, Bodie began to decline. But people continued to mine. In 1932, a young boy started a fire that burned a large portion of the town. Yet, even then, a few hung on, continuing to live and mine in Bodie until World War 2, when the government closed all gold mines as unnecessary for the war effort.  In time, the state of California inherited the town and in the early 1960s created a state park.  

While the state protects the town, private concerns own the rich hills to the south of the town. The mines were located here.. When I visited again in the spring and summer of 1989, I learned a Canadian mining company had its eyes on the potential ore in that hill. California no longer allowed cyanide leaching (a process to remove valuable metals like gold and silver from rock). To get around this, the company proposed to build a ten-mile-long conveyor. This would allow them to transport the ore to Nevada, where such operations are allowed. I don’t know what happened to such plans as California fought it. Such an operation with blasting and heavy equipment would be enough to destroy what’s left of Bodie. 

Bodie’s remaining mill

I would visit Bodie twice more during the year I lived on the Comstock. In late May, my parents visited. We took a two-night trip down to Bodie and stayed in a hotel in Lee Vining. While walking around the ghost town, it began to snow. This ddi not amuse my mother. I knew she didn’t care to share a bathroom with other guests at the hotel. I made reservations before leaving.

On this trip, we left Bodie and took another gravel road to the south, which came out at Mono Lake. Back in the day, train tracks ran down the cuts now used for the road. The train cut along the east side of Mono Lake, then headed into the hills south of the lake. There, east of Mammoth Lakes, a sizable forest consisting of Ponderosa and Jeffrey Pines grew. Lumbering operations cut the trees forr mining timbers, building lumber, and firewood. Kilns converted some of the wood into charcoal. The later found use in heading and in the milling process. The tracks never connected to another railroad and was only used to wood products.  Once the town declined, the train ceased to operate.

After a night in Lee Vining, we traveled over Tioga Pass, across Tuolumne Meadows which still had snow. We then headed down into Yosemite Valley where we spent the second night. The next day, we drove through some of the California mining areas on the western slope of the Sierras, before crossing back over on Sonora Pass and heading north back to Virginia City.

My third visit was late in June. Carolyn, whom I had been dating much of the year, and I took her daughters, Emma and Holly to Bodie and Mono Lake. We camped at Twin Lakes on the eastern slope of the Sierras, before spending the day exploring Bodie.

While I have been back to Mono Lake and over Tioga Pass several times since 1989, I haven’t gone back to Bodie. But I would like to see it again one day. Unlike Virginia City, Bodie is a true ghost town. You’re not allowed to stay there after dark, and the only residents are rangers working for the state. 

The photos were taken at different times. some were slides and others were prints. I have more photos somewhere!

More stories about my time on the Comstock:

Arriving in Virginia City, September 1988

David Henry Palmer arrives in Virginia City, 1863

Virginia City’s Muckers presents Thorton Wilder’s “Our Town”

Doug and Elvira

Matt and Virginia City

Driving West in ’88

Funerals on the Comstock Lode

Sunday afternoon drive to Gerlach 

Riding in the cab of a locomotive on the V&T

Christmas Eve

Easter Sunrise Services (a part of this article recalls Easter Sunrise Service in Virginia City in 1989)

The Revivals of A. B. Earle (an academic paper published in American Baptist Historical Society Quarterly. Earle spent several weeks in Virginia City in 1867)

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The Beatitudes, Part 2

title slide with photos of Bluemont and Mayberry Churches

Sadly, we’re again cancelling in person worship this week due to weather. Both parking lots are iced over and in some places with deep drifts. In addition, many roads are experiencing drifting, along with falling branches and trees, And the temperature on Sunday morning is expected to be in the single digits with wind chill being well below zero. Stay safe. Watch or read the sermon, or do both. Join us tomorrow morning at 10 AM on zoom (if you don’t have the link, email me at parkwayrockchurches@gmail.com). Check in on your neighbors. Hopefully, things will be better this week as the temperatures on Tuesday and Wednesday are forecasted to be in the 40s and 50s.

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
February 8, 2026
Matthew 5:1-12 (7-12)

Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Thursday, February 5, 2026

At the beginning of worship:
Life in the sixteenth century could be brutal. While good things came out of the Reformation, it being led by humans meant somethings were not so good. Catholics fought those within the Lutheran and Reformed Traditions, and we fought back. And those within the Anabaptist tradition, the ancestors to the Mennonite and Amish folks who live around us here in the Blue Ridge, caught it from all sides. Their persecution peaked in the Low Countries, what we know of today as the Netherlands. 

One of the martyrs of the Amish and Mennonite tradition is Dirk Willems. He was condemned by a Catholic court (although many Protestants at the time would have agreed with the court’s ruling) and ordered to be burned at the stake for his theological beliefs. Dirk was held in an old palace repurposed as a prison. He escaped, by collecting pieces of cloth and creating a rope from which he climbed down from his cell window and took off across the landscape. One of the guards saw him and gave chase. They ran across a wide frozen pond. Dirk, as a prisoner, had lost weight and made it across the ice. His pursuer wasn’t so lucky. He crashed through the ice and cried out for help.

Dirk turned back and saved the man, only to be recaptured. On May 16, 1569, he was led to the stake. A strong wind blew, which kept the fire away from Dirk’s upper body for the longest time. It’s said neighboring villages heard his screams, as he repeatedly shouted, “O Lord, my God.”  

What would you have done? Would you have helped the man or seen it as an opportunity to escape? What would Jesus advise? 

Before reading the Scripture:
I am splitting Jesus’ beatitudes into two halves, following the example of Dale Bruner in his commentary on the gospel. The first half of the beatitudes, which we looked at last week, focused on those in need. Here, we see God’s gracious side. With God, grace always comes before expectations. The second half of the beatitudes deal with our response to the needs of the world. For those willing to participate with God, a blessing is also given. Then, this passage ends with the reminder to those loyal to Jesus to expect persecution.  

Bruner, who wrote an outstanding two-volume commentary on Matthew, admits his struggles to preach on the second half of the Beatitudes.[1] As Protestants, we emphasize grace. And grace abounds in the first four beatitudes. But in the second set of blessings, we learn we can also be blessed for doing what’s right. Sounds like “works-righteousness.” Is it? 

Within our faith, a healthy tension exists between grace and law or works. While grace is necessary for our salvation, we are expected to respond to this grace in gratitude and love. We need both, grace and law. We are saved by grace, but we respond by doing God’s work in the world. Are we merciful, pure in heart, or a peacemaker? What does this even mean? Let’s look at our text for today. Like last week, I will read the entire passage but today will focus on verses 7 through 12 in the sermon. 

Read Matthew 5:1-12

The first set of beatitudes begin with three focused on those in need. They’re passive. The next set of beatitudes begin with three beatitudes focused on helping those in need. These are active, calling us forth to participate with God’s plan for the world.[2]Blessed are the merciful, the pure in heart, and the peacemaker. Let’s begin by considering what each means. 

Who are the merciful? Matthew, more than any of the other gospels, shows concerned for our moral life. For Matthew, being ethical, being moral, is to be merciful. It involves compassion. Twice in his gospel, Matthew recalls Jesus quoting Hosea, “I want mercy and not sacrifice.”[3] Jesus, himself, while often described as having compassion, more often shows what compassion looks like though actions on behalf of the needy.[4] Compassion sees or understands the needs of others and responds. It’s having empathy on behalf of others.[5]

Forgiveness is another component of this mercy which Jesus repeatedly demonstrates. Later in this sermon, in the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus links our willingness to forgive to our ability to be forgiven. “Forgive us our debts or sins, as we forgive our debtors or those who sin against us.”[6] Later in his gospel, Matthew recalls Jesus’ parable of the unforgiven servant. Here, the one forgiven a huge debt, refuses to forgive a man who owed him a little. The unforgiving servant’s ingratitude and inability to forgive leads to his condemnation.[7]

It’s hard to show mercy to those who have wronged us. However, it’s better than the alternative, letting hate and revenge build up inside of us until we explode.[8]

Next, Jesus blesses the pure in heart. While behavior is important in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus emphasizes internal purity. Sin isn’t just actions. It can also be words and thoughts. Angry words are as harmful as actions. Lust is as bad as adultery.[9] In Jesus time, the rabbis emphasized keeping all kinds of outward signs of faith. You obeyed the Sabbath. You ate the right foods. You avoided being in the company of sinners. But Jesus flips this on its side and insists his follower’s purity not be just on the outside but also on the inside.[10]  

We might say something like, “My heart tells me.” However, a pure heart goes beyond our feelings. Within Hebraic through, to speak of the heart includes the “interior life of the person.”[11] In other words, a pure heart refers to our thoughts, actions, and intentions. Seeing God is the blessing received by one who’s life is so structured. 

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God,” comes next. We hear this beatitude with the background drumming of war around the globe and think it would be nice to have a few more peacemakers who could save Ukrainians from Russian attacks on their hospitals and apartment buildings. Or those who bring peace to South Sudan, Congo, or even between us and Iran, Cuba, Greenland, and Venezuela. 

While such peace is to be desired, we must understand two things. In Jesus day, the “peacemaker” was the emperor, who by brutal force brought peace to the entire Roman world. But is that really peace when you crucify anyone who threatens your peace? Can we have peace without justice? 

Secondly, peace in a Hebriac sense goes beyond the absence of conflict. Peace implied wholeness. One commentator suggests this verse might be translated as “Blessed are the wholemakers.”[12]

Matthew concern for relationships between people shows up later in this sermon. Jesus orders those angry with another to reconcile even before they make an offering to God. Then, in the 18thChapter, Matthew records another set of Jesus’ teachings about how we should attempt reconciliation. Jesus encourages us not to blow up conflicts but to attempt to settle them quietly, one-on-one. Only if that doesn’t work, should you involve others.[13]

Jesus doesn’t expect us to settle all the world’s conflicts. While some may be called to such work, all of us can do our part to create a peaceful oasis around us. We should all strive to reduce conflict and to create an atmosphere where everyone can flourish. This is especially needed in our own nation. We’re walking on a slippery path. As we saw with the fifth beatitude, we’re called to help those in need (Blessed are the merciful). Yet, here, in the seventh beatitude, we’re also called to bring peace. I suggest this includes bridging the gap between those who support and oppose the current Administration. It’s tough work because neither side trusts the other. But that’s where peacemakers come into play. If we attempt to faithfully walk this narrow path, we’re promised a special relationship to God as we’re adopted into his family. 

After the three helper beatitudes, Jesus reminds us of that old saying, “No good deed goes unpunished.”  His last two beatitudes are for those who experience persecution. We should carefully note, the reason for the persecution isn’t about us, but about our striving to do what is right and to remain faithful to Jesus Christ. “When you’re ill-treated because of me, you’re in good company,” Jesus says, “for the same thing happened to the prophets.” 

The beatitudes end on a note reminding us to expect persecution. Staying faithful to Jesus and his teachings can come at great cost. We may be disliked, disowned, or suffer fiscal or physical attacks. But if we remain true to our Savior and strive to help those in need, we’re reminded in these blessings that God will remain with us in this life and in the life to come, we’ll discover our rewarded in heaven. 

Strive to do good. Stand up for the underdog. Reach out for those who fall. Provide aide for those can’t help themselves. Look out for the marginalized and persecuted. Yes, by doing such good deeds, we may find ourselves persecuted or killed, as we recently seen in Minneapolis. But that’s the price we pay to live with a clean conscience. Remember Dirk Willems. He had a choice. He could flee and live. Or he could help another in need and, as Jesus will discuss later in this sermon, love his enemy.[14]

We’re called to follow Christ and to base our lives on his life. Jesus helped those in need and he ended up crucified. Perhaps his last two beatitudes foreshadow what was ahead for him and some of his followers. But remember, it’s better to strive to do what is right in Jesus’ name than to ignore those in need around us. Amen. 

[1] Frederick Dale Bruner, The Christbook: Matthew 1-12 (1990, Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2004), 179.  For discussion on Protestant and Catholic interprets of the two halves of the beatitudes, see pages 183-187. 

[2] Bruner, 173, labels these two sets of beatitudes as “passive” and “active.”

[3] Bruner, 173.  See Hosea 6:6.

[4] Kenneth E. Bailey, Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes: Cultural Studies in the Gospels (Downers Grove, IL:  IVP Academic, 2008), 82. 

[5] See Andrew Purves, The Search for Compassion: Spirituality and Ministry (WJKP, 1989). 

[6] Matthew 6:12. 

[7] Matthew 18:23-35.

[8] Bailey,  82. 

[9] Matthew 5:21-22 and 27-30. 

[10] Bruner, 15

[11] Bailey, 84. 

[12] Bailey, 172.  For more on Pax Romana, see Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew: Interpretation, A Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: JKP, 1993), 42. 

[13] Matthew 5:23-24, 18:15-18.

[14] Matthew 5:43-48.

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Review of my January readings

Title page showing parts of the covers of the books I read in January 2026

I did a lot of reading in January thanks to the bitter cold temperatures…

Rick Atkinson, The British Are Coming: The War in American, Lexington to Princeton, 1775-1777

 (New York: Henry Holt, 2019), 776 pages including notes, sources, and index. Also included are maps and plates of photos.

This is the first of a planned trilogy by Rick Atkinson on the Revolutionary War.  The opening books covers the beginning of the war. He starts at the battles at Lexington and Concord, and continues through Washington’s surprising victories in late 1776 and 77,. This was Washington crossing the Delaware with his ill-prepared army on Christmas Eve, routing the British Hessian soldiers in Trenton. That winter, he eventually pushed the British back toward New York. A lot happened in these first two years. 

Atkinson not only provides the American point-of-view for the war, but also the British. He takes his readers inside debates in Parliament. We learn of King George’s thoughts on the war and the British empire. Not all Britains were in favor of the war. But some like the king felt if they lost the war, it would be an end to the British Empire (which was just beginning to grow).  

It’s been a long time since I studied much of the history of the war. While I knew of the battles around Boston, I didn’t realize just how successful the campaign was against a larger and more powerful foe. The British retreated and regrouped in Nova Scotia before moving south to New York. I also knew of our attempts to capture Quebec, I didn’t realize just how much effort the colonists put into this endeavor. While it ended in failure, the Canadian invasion served as a major offensive for a rag-tag army.  

Much of the war covered in this book, especially after Washington assumed command of the army, became an attempt to avoid major battles and to live to fight another day. Washington sensed this would be the best way to slowly wear down the British (and their German merceries). America even attempted novel ways of attacking the British including the first attempted use of a submarine. In a way, I found myself making a parallel to how Ukraine has held out against Russia since 2022. They must keep holding on as they wear down a larger Russian army. And, Ukraine has also utilized new technology to make the most of their smaller army.   

Atkinson also covers the early war in the South. I grew up near Moore’s Creek. This brief but important battle often gets left out of American history books, I appreciated Atkinson’s treatment on the engagement. Click here to read a talk I gave to the St. Andrew’s Society of Scotland on Moore’s Creek.

By the end of 1776, the colonists had lost New York and New Jersey andretreated beyond the Delaware River. Things looked desperate. At this time, most armies didn’t fight during winter. Washington, however, took a risk. He crossed back across the Delaware to attack the British soldiers (mostly German Hessians) on the opposite bank. He continued to press forward, winning small engagements and driving the British back to the Hudson River.  

I look forward to reading his next volume which deals with the middle years of the war.  This is a great book to read in 2026, as we celebrate our nation’s 250-year history.  

James Dodson, The Road that Made America: A Modern Pilgrim’s Journey on the Great Wagon Road 

(New York: Avid Reader Press, 2025), 396 pages.

The Great Wagon Road ran west from Philadelphia to central Pennsylvania where it turned south through Maryland and the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia and then crossing over the mountains and flanking the east side of the Blue Ridge south through North and South Carolina, ending in Augusta, Georgia. Daniel Boone’s father traveled this road to settle along the banks of the Yakin River in North Carolina. Daniel, a wanderlust like his father, would create a spur off the Great Wagon Road, the Wilderness Road, which ran through the Cumberland Gap into Kentucky. 

The Great Wagon Road brought many Scot-Irish and German immigrants into Virginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia. The Conestoga Wagon, the vehicle of choice in the 18th Century, was designed and built along this road. Many important battles in the Revolutionary War occurred on the eastern and southern ends of the road. The Civil War would see major battles along the western side of the road.

Dodson, a descendant of those who travelled the Great Wagon Road, sets out in an old station wagon to follow the road (Today, US 30 across Pennsylvania and US 11 through Virginia roughly follow the path). As he travels along the road over several years (as opposed to traveling from Philadelphia to Augusta in one trip), we learn about his relationship to the road and interesting things which occurred along it.  One young woman joked that he, an older man driving a station wagon, reminded her of Clark Griswold, a character played by Chevy Chase in the National Lampoon Vacation movies. 

In addition to his descendants having traveled this road, another experience drew Dodson to it. In college he had attended with his girlfriend, Kristin Cress, a Moravian Sunrise Service at Old Salem. A professor at Salem college told him about a nearby ford on the road. The young couple caught some of the excitement of the road. They planned to marry. But before they could, Kristin, a student at Appalachian State who worked in a restaurant, was killed at work during an armed robbery. Slowly, throughout the story, we learn more about Kristin. 

Dodson seems a bit odd to be writing a book about history and his experiences along the road. After all, much of his career involved reporting on golf. But he nicely blends his experiences and the history of the road. 

Not only does he explore the good parts of history, he also presents the shameful past such as the murder of the Conestoga Indians around Lancaster at the end of the French and Indian War. The Conestogas had signed a treaty with William Penn and had lived peacefully in a village. I found this hopeful at a time when our nation’s current administration orders the National Park Service to remove interpretation signs which they feel exposes shameful events in our past.  As he points out, “The past cannot be unremembered,”

Dodson spent time in his childhood in Roanoke, Virginia with his aunt Lily. As he stops in Big Lick, Roanoke’s original name, he recalls those times including attending with his aunt to an African American Church. On this trip, he visits 5thAvenue Presbyterian Church. There, Vernie Bolden, one of my fellow clergy members within the Presbytery of the Peaks, showed him around. One of the windows in 5th Avenue’s sanctuary, a historically black church, depicts Presbyterian and Confederate General Stonewall Jackson. As odd as this may seem, when the church was built in 1906, Jackson’s body servant during the Civil War, ‘Uncle’ Jeff Shields, spoke. Jackson also taught the parents of the pastor at that time, Reverend L.L. Downing, to read.  Dodson, however, acknowledges the racial problems in Roanoke, as it was one of the first cities in the south to establish Jim Crow laws. 

A year ago I read Neil King, Jr., An American Ramble. King’s walk from Washington DC to New York City, covers much of the early ground of Dodson’s travels, especially around Lancaster and York. Both write about the history of this area and of the two contemporary 19th Century bachelors: the abolitionist Thaddeus Stevens and President James Buchannan and their role leading up to the Civil War. Also, the Amish and Quaker’s fascinated both King and Dodson.  And both authors are willing to look at the noble and ignoble aspects of history. One difference is that King walked, which limited how far he could get from his path. Dodson, who drove, was able to enjoy things off the main road. 

I enjoyed this book. On a personal note, it’s possible the Garrisons came down the Great Wagon Road, as they settled south of Winston Salem. However, most of my ancestors came from the Scottish Highlands and settled in the Sandhills along the upper reaches of the Cape Fear River. And a few migrated into Virginia shortly after Jamestown and made their way south into North Carolina before the Revolutionary War.  

A couple of quotes:

“Better mind your P’s and Q’s, came from early taverns which sold beer as pints and quarts.” (324)

“Do you know how America was created. The English built the houses, the Germans built the barns, and the Scot Irish built the stills.” (379)

Robin Wall Kimmerer, The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural

 (New York: Scribner, 2024), 113 pages.

In this short collection of essays, Kimmerer envisions a new way to approach community building. She bases her ideas on her study of nature, especially the serviceberry tree. As she did in her other two books, Gathering Moss and Braiding Sweetgrass, she draws on her background as a native American as well as her knowledge as a scientist. But essentially, in this work, Kimmerer writes as an economist, even though she denies knowing much about the science. Or maybe she mostly writes about community building, for that’s what she envisions.

Observing nature, especially serviceberries, she suggests we look for ways to change our local economics from one based on scarcity. In such an economy, money is made by exchange of items in demand, to a society based on reciprocity.  The Serviceberry freely gives of its fruit. The animals who live around it enjoy not just the abundance of berries but share the abundance with others. In addition, they also performing necessary deeds which strengthen the life of the host plant. 

While Kimmerer doesn’t suggest we can quickly do away with the supply and demand economics, she does create a vision for small scale changes of sharing which could help enrich the lives of the participants.  She makes her case while sharing personal stories along with her knowledge of the plant world. 

This is a delightful book and I recommend it. 

Sam Ragan, The Collected Poems of Sam Ragan 

(Laurinburg, NC: St. Andrews Press, 1990), 275 pages.

I have known of Sam Ragan, a former Poet Laureate of North Carolina, most of my life. He edited “The Pilot,” a newspaper in Moore County from 1969 to his death in 1996. While staying with my grandparents, I would read his newspaper and hear my grandmother talk about him. Then, later, for many years, thanks to my grandmother, I received his newspaper while living in New York and Utah. I supposed this was her way of keeping me grounded to the North Carolina Sandhills.

As far as I know, I only meet him once, at a poetry reading in Lincolnton, NC, on April Fool’s Day, 1984.  I purchased two of his books and had him sign both. One I gave to Flora Abernethy, my date for the event. I kept the other book (Journey into Morning), which he signed and dated for me. This is how I knew our meeting was on April 1st. This collection of poems contains all his published work. This is my second reading of these poems. 

Ragan’s poems often draw from a glimpse of life which he captures in a few words. His words are positive and uplifting, as he celebrates life. While he writes about other months, October and April seem to be his favorite. The breaking of morning is his favorite time of day. Most of these verses take place in North Carolina, especially the Sandhills which were settled by Highlanders from Scotland, about whom he has a bit to say.

In addition to the Sandhills, he makes an occasional foray down to the Coast or to Raleigh. We meet interesting characters. A teetotaler who only drinks every fourth year on election day. It’s his way of expressing his opinion.  Or the preacher whose church steps were taken over by bees, keeping people away. Taking a torch, he burned the bees then preached a hell-fire sermon.  And we learn wisdom of one of his fellow editors who insisted the “function of a newspaper is ‘to print the news and raise hell.’” 

Ragan’s voice sounds best outdoors. The reader senses his love of flowers (azaleas and camellias for their beaty and lilacs for their fragrance).  He describes a storm moving through a grove of longleaf pines, and the birds seen in his garden during the seasons. The water’s edge often draws Ragan’s attention. He even named one of his books The Water’s Edge. 

This is an enjoyable collection, and I recommend it to anyone who enjoys poetry. 

cover of "We Must Be Brave"

Frances Liardet, We Must Be Brave 

(New York: G.P. Putman & Sons, 2019), 453 pages. Audible, 16 hours and 7 minutes. 

I’m not sure what drew me to this book when I saw it on an Audible two-for-one sale, but it sounded intriguing. I then picked up a copy at the library which allowed me to read some sections slower. I enjoyed the story which begins in 1940 Britain. Germany bombs the port city of Southampton. As the city burns, people flee to surrounding villages. Ellen and Selwyn Parr volunteer to help. On one bus, Ellen discovers Pamela, a young girl, asleep in a dirty blanket in the back. No one seems to know where her mother is at, but a few women seem to think she was on the bus before this one. Only later, they discovered she died in the bombings when a bomb struck the Crown Hotel. 

Ellen, who did not want children, takes Pamela and insists on keeping her. Unable to find any relationships who want the girl, she stays with the Parrs for the next four years. The book flashes back to Ellen’s troubled childhood and her meeting of Selwyn. She was 18 and he 39. Selwyn has his own story as he had been in the First World War. He’s now a miller in the village of Upton. Then, in the spring of 1944, as the Allies prepare to invade Europe, her father, who had been a navy surgeon, returns. Wounded, he lost the use of one hand, which ends his surgery career. Claiming Pamela, he sends his daughter to his sister in Ireland to raise. 

Pamela and Ellen correspond for a while, till her aunt in Ireland calls a halt to the exchanges. Pamela longs to return to England, even trying to run away. Ellen continues to write letters, but saves them. Then, in the 1970s, there is a flood. Ellen rescues a girl named Penny, from the flood and from her alcoholic mother (her father is with the military in Northern Ireland). In a way, the story repeats, but once Penny is older, she comes across Pamela who is a glass blower living in the American Southwest. She arranges a visit between Pamela and Ellen, who is 90 years old in 2010. 

This wonderful story centers on the love Ellen gives to both girls. It’s also a story about the heartbreak caused by the loss of children, which led me to post a story a few weeks ago about Becky, a foster daughter I’d hope would become an adopted daughter. Ellen was in her early 20s when she met Pamela and Pamela was over 70 when they were reunited. 

Not only is the story wonderful and I found myself caring about all the characters (and I left many characters out in my short synopsis),but Liardet’s writes beautifully. I love how she brings the senses into the story. You felt like you were in damp Southern England or the desert of the American Southwest.  She also includes some surprise twists, such as what happened to her real father. 

As one who doesn’t read a lot of fiction, I enjoyed this book and recommend it. 

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The Beatitudes, Part 1: Blessings on those in Need

Title slide with photo and a drawing of two rock churches

Because of the current winter weather, on top of last week’s ice, we will not be gathering again in person for worship this Sunday (February 1, 2026). Today, it’s snowing hard and tomorrow is to be extremely cold with high winds and blizzard-like conditions. Thankfully, I taped the sermon on Thursday so you can watch or read it. There will be a gathering of those interested on Zoom tomorrow morning (February 1, 2026) at 10 AM. If you would like a link, please send me an email at parkwayrockchurches@gmail.com. I will also send out a link to those who receive my weekly musings. Stay warm and safe. Check on your neighbors and help those you can get through this difficult time.

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
February 1, 2026
Matthew 5:1-12 (1-6)

The sermon was recorded at Bluemont on Thursday, January 29, 2026.

At the beginning of worship:
I started reading Amy Leach’s book, The Salt of the Universe, this week. In this collection of essays, she deals with her childhood growing up in Texas as a 7th Day Adventist. I appreciate Leach’s deep knowledge of literature on a variety of subjects including the early Christian writers. I also found myself laughing at her gentle humor as when she introduced Basil the Great, one of the early church’s theologians, with a subtle warning not to confuse him with Parsley the Great.[1]

Leach wrote about one writer whom I did not know, Ellen White. I had to look her up. Married to one of the founders of the 7th Day Adventist movement in the 19th Century, White wrote many of the church’s documents especially concerning health and vegetarianism. Leach says she prefers another 19th Century New England woman author, Emily Dickerson. She then provides a quote from each woman about abstinence.

White: Let not one drop of wine or liquor pass your lips, for in its use is madness and woe. Pledge yourself to entire abstinence, for it is your only safety.

Dickerson: Who never wanted,-maddest joy
Remains to him unknown:
The banquet of abstemiousness
Surpasses that of wine.

Leach goes on to say: “One is abstinent for safety’s sake, the other abstinent for joy. One is abstemious due to fear of madness, other due to love of madness. The maddest joys, the wrenchingest songs, the stirringest stories—they all come from wanting. More intoxicating than having a thing is wanting it.”[2]

Jesus talks quite a bit about we desire and want. We need to want the right things and for the right reasons. We’ll see this today as we begin our exploration of his Sermon on the Mount. 

Before reading the scripture:
This morning we start our exploration of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. While I’ll take a break over Easter, we’ll be working our way through the sermon for the next four months. Jesus’ sermon begins with nine beatitudes, or blessings, which seem to go counter to our ideas of blessings. While I will read all the beatitudes, we’ll only look at the first four today. These all deal with a blessing upon those who are in need. The needy experience God’s grace. Next Sunday, we’ll look at the blessings upon those who are helpers and see the truth behind the old saying, “No good deed goes unpunished.” 

In a way, Matthew’s beatitudes illustrate an important principle of Reformed Theology. Grace always precedes action. We don’t earn our salvation; it’s a gift from a gracious God. In this manner, the beatitudes reflect the 10 Commandments, which came only after God has freed the Hebrew people from slavery.[3] God shows his grace and we respond which should cause us to want to show the same mercy to others than God has shown us. 

I’ll read all the beatitudes this week and next but today will just focus on the blessings for those who are in need. We live in a world that looks down on the needy, but Jesus challenges such thinking. 

Read Matthew 5:1-12

We learn at the end of the fourth chapter of how Jesus drew a crowd not just from Galilee, but all-over including Gentile areas. Then the fifth chapter, Matthew reiterates the idea of crowds following Jesus, which leads him to head up on a mountain. One of the debates around this sermon has to do with the audience.[4]Was Jesus speaking to the disciples or to the crowds? The opening of the sermon, which applies to the next three chapters, makes it appear Jesus talks to the disciples, but if you go to the end of the sermon, in chapter 7, the crowds appreciate Jesus’ message and claim he speaks with authority. I think Jesus intends this passage to be heard by everyone, including us today. 

Jesus seeing the crowds heads up a mountain. We’re not told which mountain, but perhaps we’re to think Sinai or even Zion, although in the fourth chapter, we learn Jesus is in Galilee. But the unknown mountain setting may also be just to remind us of Sinai, where Moses receives the law, or Zion, the site of the God’s temple.[5] Or, maybe by sitting uphill, and addressing those downhill, Jesus can speak to a larger crowd. 

Next, Jesus sits down and calls his disciples close to him. The sitting is a pose Jesus often uses to teach but may also imply a Christological statement. Sitting on a rock on the earth he’s to rule, he’s on his rightful throne.[6]

He begins his sermon. A beatitude would have be a familiar concept to the Jews who made up most of the crowd. There are many such Psalms which begin with a blessing including the very first Psalm, but it’s a conditional blessing. The blessing (or happiness as it’s often translated) in Psalm 1 is applied to those who follow God’s way and not the way of the wicked.[7] But Jesus bestows his blessings on those in need. His words are grace-filled. They also run counter to traditional logic. We easily ignore the broken down, grief-filled, and weak members of society, but because they have no one else, God will bless them. They’ll populate the kingdom of heaven, they’ll find comfort and inherit the earth. 

We might wonder if the poor in spirit, who are promised the kingdom of heaven will be better off than the meek, who inherit the earth.  But maybe it’s the same. After all, in Revelation, we learn they’ll be a new heaven and a new earth which appear to have been married together.[8]

Of course, such promises seem far off. On earth, in our worldly economy, those broken down by life find themselves cast aside. But the promise here is that God will be beside them. Jesus came, as we saw last week, not to those in power in Jerusalem or Rome, but to the people in the villages of Galilee who struggled to make a life in a brutal empire. Those who think they have it made may be in for a surprise in Jesus coming kingdom.[9]

This is why Jesus later emphasizes the difficulty the rich will in getting into the kingdom, saying it’ll be easier for a camel to traverse the eye of a needle.[10]  Those who consider themselves rich don’t see a need for God in their lives. They think they have it made. But the poor, they have nowhere else to turn. It’s easier for them to grasp the free grace offered by God. 

While the first three beatitudes focus on the helpless, the fourth beatitude encourages effort on our part. When we hunger and thirst for righteousness, we join with God’s desire for the world. Our hunger and thirst should create within us a desire, not for more stuff, but for the good and wholesome. My opening story from Amy Leach and her quote from Emily Dickerson captures such desire. As does Jesus, later in the sermon, where he encourages us to “Seek first the kingdom of God and its righteousness.”[11]

As Christians, righteousness often gets interpreted through the lens of Paul, who uses this word 29 times in his letter to the Romans. Paul understands righteousness as being inferred by God onto those who accept the grace and freedom offered by Jesus. In this manner, Paul rightly dismisses our ability to be righteous.[12] Matthew, however, comes at righteousness a bit different in the Sermon on the Mount. While God’s grace is freely offered, as we see in the first three beatitudes, we are to still strive to live noble and good lives.[13] I think Paul would agree.

Righteousness is not just a relationship with God, it also involves our relationships with others. Do we strive to do what we can to help others, especially, as Jesus later says in Matthew’s gospel, “the least of these”?[14]

Our fourth beatitude makes a nice transition into the next of blessings, where Jesus confers blessings to the helpers of the world. As Mr. Rogers said, during times of turmoil, “look for the helpers,” those who strive to pick up those who have fallen. Our world can be such a dark place, but those seek to do good and live honorably make it a bit brighter. And that’s our goal as followers of Jesus. As Jesus tells us later in this same sermon, we’re to be a light to the world.[15] Amen. 

[1] Amy Leach, The Salt of the Universe: Praise, Songs, and Improvisations (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2024), 36. 

[2] Leach, 35. 

[3] Frederick Dale Bruner, The Christbook: Matthew 1-12 (1990, Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2004),155-156.

[4] Bruner, 153-154.

[5] Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew: Interpretation, a Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1993), 35.  For a more detail discussion on the meaning of the mountain, see Jonathan T. Pennington, The Sermon on the Mount and Human Flourishing: A Theological Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2017), 138-140; and Bruner, 152-153.  

[6] See Hare, 34; and Pennington, 140-141.

[7] For my sermon on Psalm 1, see https://fromarockyhillside.com/2023/01/08/psalm-1-two-roads/ Other examples of beatitude Psalms include: 32, 106, 112, 119, 128.

[8] Revelation 21:1ff. 

[9] This certainly seems to be the case in the Parable of the Judgment of the Nations in Matthew 25:31ff.

[10] Matthew 19:24.

[11] Matthew 6:33.

[12] All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God,” Paul writes. Romans 3:23.

[13] For a discussion on how Paul and Matthew use the term “righteous,” see Bruner, 169-170.

[14] Matthew 25:40, 45.

[15] Matthew 5:14.

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The Ordeal

Last week I wrote about being “tapped out” for the Order of the Arrow. But, as I said at that time, before I would be received into membership of this group of honored campers, I had to pass an ordeal. This is the story of the ordeal.

Order of the Arrow memorabilia
Some of my saved Order of the Arrow memorabilia: bottom slash that I received at the ordeal (the top sash was when I was made a Brotherhood member. There is a membership card and both the lodge and camp neckerchiefs.

A few days after the ordeal, I sat at the kitchen table, scratching bug bites while telling Mom all I’d endured. I thought she’d be impressed with her macho 13-year-old son. I was mistaken. While I don’t recall if she used the word fool, but that was essentially what she called me for having allowed myself to endure a day of hard work on meager rations, without the ability to talk back. “You did all that for a patch and a white sash with a red arrow embroidered on it?” she asked. Mom had a way to put me in my place. She knocked me off the high I’d been riding since the ordeal. 

A few weekends after the tap-out, I was back at Camp Tom Upchurch for the ordeal. I didn’t know much about what to expect. In addition to our scout uniforms, they told us to bring work clothes, gloves, and sturdy shoes. As the camp was over two hours from my house, I rode up with other scouts. There were about thirty of us going through the ordeal. Mostly kids but also a few adult leaders, including Mr. Barrow. His son, Ricky, and I were in the same class for the three years I attended Bradley Creek Elementary School.  

After dinner in the dining hall, they told us to stow our gear and to report to the campfire circle with only a pocketknife, a poncho, and a blanket. We knew we’d be spending the night in the woods, so we all doused ourselves with bug spray before heading to the campfire. 

I don’t remember much of the mysterious ceremony. When we arrived, older scouts, dressed like Plains Indians, and already members of the Order of the Arrow greeted us. Someone shot a flaming arrow into the lake. Then the Chief reappeared. He instructed us as to the ordeal we faced. We would spend the night alone in the woods. They required us to maintain silence for the next 24 hours. And, by morning, we needed to carve an arrow to wear around our neck. If we talked, a notch would be made in our arrow. If we received three notches, our arrow would be broken, and we would fail the ordeal. I had worried about this ever since the tap-out ceremony. .

After giving us our instruction, they lined us up. In our left-hand we carried our poncho and blanket. We placed our right hands upon the shoulder of the scout in front of us. In front and back of the line Indian braves carried torches. We were led down a two-track road toward the rifle range. To the right of the road, the land rose, covered by pines and wire grass. To the left, the land slopped into a swamp, with thick vegetation. As we moved down the road, I could hear people running around behind me. Then, the guy behind me dropped his hand from my shoulder and I felt him whisked away. I was next. 

Two braves grabbed me and led me to the left, down toward the swamp. They sat me in a dry spot and told me they’d be back in the morning. It was a moonless night. I looked at the stars as I listened to the mosquitos’ buzz and the frogs sing. Lightning flashed in the distance, but thankfully, the storm missed us. I thought about carving the arrow, but decided it wasn’t a bright idea to carve in the dark, so I spread out my poncho and wrapped myself in my scratchy wool blanket in an attempt avoid the mosquitoes. Surprisingly, I quickly fell asleep.

Something moved nearby, waking me up. “Was it an animal?” I worried. I opened the blade of my pocketknife and laid still, clutching the knife and looking around. My eyes had become somewhat adjusted, but the vegetation was so thick that I couldn’t make out what it was. Then a twig snapped and I turned and saw another scout, testing branches, obviously trying to find wood for his arrow. We looked at each other but didn’t speak and, in the darkness, I couldn’t recognize him. His placement was about fifty feet behind me,. Without saying a word, he walked back back to where his poncho and blanket were lying. 

Lying back down, I watched the stars and battled the mosquitoes for a few minutes. The bug repellant was no longer working. I rolled up in my blanket and, despite the heat and bugs, somehow fell back asleep.

When I woke the next time, the stars had faded away and there was enough light that I could orient myself. Mosquitoes were still buzzing. I knew I needed to carve and arrow before they came to retrieve us, so I looked around for suitable wood. Nearby, I found an old stump from a longleaf pine, its inners filled with lighter wood. I broke off a chunk and began to work shape it in the form of an arrow that was approximately four inches long. Such wood splits easily and has a nice sheen from the resin it contains, but the wood is hard and therefore difficult to carve. I worked with it and even though my arrow wasn’t the best looking one in camp, it had a nice rich golden color and, because of the way the wood splits, was probably the sharpest arrow around. This wasn’t a particularly good thing since the arrow had to dangle from my neck. 

I barely had enough time to fashion the arrow before being rousted up and led with others to the main part of camp. They sat us down under a tree beside the dining hall, handing us a carton of milk and a fried egg between two pieces of white bread for breakfast. We sat for the longest time and after eating. I shaped my stick into a more presentable arrow between scratching mosquito bites. Then, they assigned to work groups. As the smallest kid in the group, my fate was to be assigned to the group with the toughest task.

Our taskmaster had our group jump in the back of a truck and drove us to a sandpit beyond the rifle range. Today, they wouldn’t be allowed to haul us in the back of a truck, but this was 1970. They assigned us the task of loading sand onto the bed of a truck and hauling it to the waterfront to fill several gullies. Another group constructed dams in these gullies to help hold the sand in place. As the morning wore on and the sun rose higher, the temperature climbed. We kept making signs of wanting water to our taskmaster, an older and sadistic scout who was probably sixteen as he could drive the truck. He kept saying we’d have a water break later and pushed up hard. At least mosquitoes left us alone in the sun. 

When he finally did let us drink, we gulped water down at an unhealthy rate. Several guys got sick. After a morning of hauling sand, we were led back to the same site where we’d eaten breakfast for our lunch. Large containers of bug juice (watered-down Kool-Aid) sat on a table, and we could drink all we wanted. For lunch, they provided us a bologna sandwich. As it was with the egg at breakfast, this consisted of a slice of bologna between two pieces of white bread. Mustard, mayonnaise, and cheese were not an option. I ate my sandwich hurriedly and laid down, closing my eyes knowing that before too long, I’d be back working a shovel.

That afternoon, our taskmaster continued to be stingy with the water breaks. At one point several of us got so thirsty when unloading the sand into the ravines by the lake, we ran out into the water and wet our shirts as well as cupped out hands and gulped water lake water. Later, our task master stopped the truck at the camp trading post and brought himself a coke with ice. He drank it in front of us, making slurping sounds and then poured the ice out on the ground, taunting us while trying to get us to talk. An adult leader observed his stunt and called out taskmaster over for a serious conversation. I don’t know what he said, but afterwards, our taskmaster provided frequent water breaks and no more hazing. 

Our afternoon ended at about 4 PM. We remained silent. They told us to clean up and to report back to the dining hall at 6 PM in uniform. We showered, first with water, then with calamine lotion. Dressed, I spent a hour resting, waiting for the bugle to call for dinner. 

We gathered at the dining hall filled with memorabilia left behind by camp staff members going back into the 1940s. Paddles, banners, and flags hung from the rafters, one for each year. Each piece memorized the names of the staff members. As we entered, each table contained platters and bowls of food and pitchers of water, bug juice, and iced tea. 

After a scant breakfast and lunch, this was a feast. Fried chicken, mash potatoes, vegetables, freshly baked yeast rolls, and chocolate cake. Still, we could not talk,. This was okay as we were famished . We stuffed our mouths with a seemingly unlimited amount of food, some of the best I’d ever eaten. 

Thinking back, much of what happened after dinner is now a blur. Exhausted, it was a long ceremony. We were again led out into the woods in a single file, with a hand on the scout in front of us, to a secret fire ring located deep in the swamps. When we arrived, a fire blazed.  Behind the flames stood the Chief. He welcomed us, had us sit down and told us the legend of the Order of the Arrow. He then gave us a secret sign and handshake, and presented sashes, a patch, a pocket ribbon with a small pewter arrow, and a neckerchief. We’d passed the ordeal. 

I was proud I endured the ordeal without a single notch in my arrow. However, I can’t say that I didn’t talk during the day, we just made sure we talked away from the taskmasters and others in charge of the ordeal. After the ceremony, we all made our way back to the dining hall where a cracker barrel was waiting. No longer on silence, we talked about our experience as we ate crackers with cheese and sausage and drank plenty of bug juice. I was now an Arrowman. 

Exhausted, we headed to bed around 11 PM. I would be on a high for the next several days, until that morning when I told my mother about my experience. 

Camp Tom Upchurch would close in 1974. For several years, the Cape Fear Council used camps from other councils until 1981, when Camp Bowers opened. For a history of the Council with Lodge history on the sidebar, click here. The Order of the Arrow was based on the Delaware tribe of Native Americans. Interestingly, the name of the lodge, Klahican, supposedly means “Venus Fly Trap” in the language of the Delaware trip. I find that suspicious as the Venus Fly Traps only grows in three counties in Southeast North Carolina and one county in Northeast South Carolina. They would have been unknown in Delaware!

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Jesus Begins His Ministry

title slide with photos of Mayberry and Bluemont Churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
January 25, 2026
Matthew 4:13-25

Due to winter weather, church services at Mayberry and Bluemont are cancelled for January 25, 2025. There will be a “zoom church” at 10 AM. If you would like to receive an invite, send an email to parkwayrockchurches@gmail.com

Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Thursday, January 22, 2026

At the beginning of worship:

I’m sure many of you have read Norman Maclean’s novella or seen the movie, A River Runs Through It. We even showed the film at movie night at Mayberry several years ago. It’s one of my favorite books, and I love the movie. In the opening, Norman describes his family who lived in Missoula, Montana early in the 20th Century in this manner:

In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing. We lived at the junction of great trout rivers in western Montana, and our father was a Presbyterian minister and a fly fisherman who tied his own flies and taught others. He told us about Christ’s disciples being fishermen, and we were left to assume, as my brother and I did, that all first-class fisherman on the Sea of Galilee were fly fishermen and that John, the favorite, was a dry-fly fisherman.[1]

As the film and book both point out, to be a fisherman, you must gain certain skills. Jesus calls us all to be disciples, just as he called the fisherman on Galilee. But once we have been called, there are things we need to learn, just as Norman and his brother had to learn from their father and how the first disciples learned from Jesus. Matthew, as a gospel, focuses on the necessary teachings we need to be effective disciples for Jesus Christ. 

Before reading the scripture:

Today, as we work our way through the beginning of Matthew’s gospel,[2] we’ll look at the three paragraphs between Jesus’ temptation, which we looked at last week, and Jesus’ great sermon which we know as the Sermon on the Mount. Matthew provides just a brief account of the beginning of Jesus ministry. 

As with Mark’s gospel, Matthew link’s Jesus’ beginning to John’s arrest. In fact, there are many similarities to what the two gospel writers’ emphasize about Jesus at the beginning. But there is one big difference. Mark, if you remember from my sermons on the gospel from two years ago, spends more time discussing Jesus’ miracles. Mark tells us consistently that Jesus also taught, but without going into detail.[3] Matthew, however, focuses on Jesus’ teaching. We’ll see an example of this in our passage this morning, but Matthew’s focus becomes even clearer when we get into Jesus’ great sermon. 

Another similarity with Mark is the rapid rise in Jesus’ fame.[4] But Matthew, who with the story of the wisemen has already shown an international interest in Jesus, notes from the beginning Jesus draws attention from outside of the Jewish community. 

A final thing we’ll see in this passage and have seen consistently in the opening chapters of Matthew is how Jesus fulfills prophecy from the Hebrew scriptures.

Read Matthew 4:13-25

In this short bridge between Jesus’ temptation and the Sermon on the Mount, we watch as our Savior starts out alone and then quickly gathers quite a following. Last week, our passage ended with angels nursing a famished and exhausted Jesus. We can assume his stomach no longer growled and he regained strength so he could make his way north to Galilee, where he’d do most of his life’s work. 

Place plays a role in ministry.[5] Jesus may have even passed through, or certainly traveled close by Jerusalem, as he returned from the wilderness. Jerusalem was where the power in this part of the world resided. It was also considered a holy city, which is why the wisemen went to Jerusalem first in their quest to meet the baby born to be a king.[6] But as we’ve already seen in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus’ birth wasn’t in Jerusalem but Bethlehem, a lowly village outside of Jerusalem. That, Matthew told us, fulfilled prophecy,

“And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler.”[7]

Jesus’ shunning Jerusalem for the backcountry of Galilee also fulfills prophecy, as we see in verses 15 and 16 which quote Isaiah. At the time the prophet cited these words, the area formerly known as Israel, or the Northern Kingdom, had been conquered by the Assyrians. Gentiles had moved into the area, as our text points out. Again, as with the wisemen, Matthew foreshadows a time when Jesus’ message will be taken throughout the world. 

Furthermore, as with Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem, his ministry in Galilee shows the heart of God. We’d pick Jerusalem or Rome or someplace big and prominent if we were going to start a new ministry, but God choses the small and obscure. And we see this throughout Jesus’ ministry as he speaks repeatedly about the last being first. 

So, Jesus begins his ministry in Podunk Galilee and his first sermon, in verse 17, is the same one given by John the Baptist,[8]who has just been arrested. So, John is off the mission field, but God makes sure he has a witness, as Jesus begins his preaching.[9]

And the first thing Jesus does is to gather disciples. In this way, he’s like a traditional rabbi, who would have disciples to teach. Jesus’ first disciples, as we see in Mark and Luke, are fishermen, making a living from the sea of Galilee. Matthew tells us the briefest facts about the calling the disciples as two sets of brothers leave their nets behind.[10]  The Zebedee boys even leave their father behind to follow Jesus. If you want more details about the calling, look at Luke’s gospel.[11]

Jesus then sets out on a preaching, teaching, and healing tour throughout Galilee, stopping at the synagogues along the way. His fame quickly grows, not just in Galilee, but to the north into Syria and south to Jerusalem, and even on the others side of the Jordan River.  Again, some of this is gentile territory. Matthew wants us to know that while Jesus’ earthly ministry took place within Jewish lands, his message is for all the world. 

What might we take from these passages?  Matthew makes it very clear that Jesus’ message is for all the world. Mission is important. Teaching the gospel is important. And every place, but especially places we tend to overlook, are important. Ministry doesn’t have to be flashy or showy. It can start with a few uneducated fishermen and grow from there. It’s paramount we claim Jesus as our Savior and call people to repent and to know that God is close at hand. Amen. 

[1] Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It and Other Stories, (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1976), 1. 

[2] My plan is to preach through the Sermon on the Mount between now and the first of June. 

[3] As an example see https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/01/21/jesus-in-the-synagogue/

[4] Mark 1:28. 

[5] See Scott Hoezee, Commentary on Matthew 4:12-23, https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2020-01-20/matthew-412-23-2/

[6] See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2025/12/28/lessons-from-the-wisemen/

[7] Matthew 2:6. Matthew paraphrases Micah 5:2.

[8] See Matthew 3:2.

[9] [1] Matthew Henry, Matthew Henry’s Commentary on the Whole Bible, vol. 5, Matthew (1721), 40. As referenced by Fredrick Dale Bruner, The Christbook: Matthew 1-12 (1990, Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2004), 135

[10] Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew: Interpretation, A Biblical Commentary to Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1993), 30.

[11] Luke 5ff tells of the calling of the fishermen in greater detail than Matthew or Mark (1:16-20).

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Order of the Arrow Tap Out

Order of the Arrow tappet
Camp Tom Upchurch patch

Wednesday night campfire at Camp Tom Upchurch in Hope Mills was the highlight of the week. Families gathered with their scouts. On this night, my grandparents had driven over from Pinehurst, which was a lot closer than my parents coming up from Wilmington. Grandma brought a picnic dinner consisting of fried chicken, rolls, potato salad, fresh tomatoes, deviled eggs, and a jug of ice tea. We all devoured the food which was a welcome relief from that they served in the dining hall.

About an hour before dark, a bugle called us to the campfire circle. We sat on wooden benches, the scouts in front, each troop sitting together, with family members sitting behind. The campfire circle was really a semi-circle which faced the lake, with two fire pits between the benches and the water. The air was still, warm and humid, when we arrived. Mosquitoes buzzed and, in the distance, we could hear the roll of thunder. Or maybe it was artillery from Fort Bragg, which wasn’t far away. Be prepared was our motto and we all carried ponchos and had doused ourselves with some deet-ladened insect repellant. 

As soon as everyone found a seat, a staff member dressed as an Indian warrior from the Plains called down the fire. Arrows flew into each pit, igniting the wood. It seemed a miracle, but it really as the church camp song goes, “it only takes a spark to get a fire going.”  This is especially true when the wood has been soaked with some kind of petroleum products. With the fires burned brightly as we sang songs, watched corny skits and listened to stories. As the light drained from the sky, a chorus of frogs threatened to drown us out. When it was finally dark, the mood became somber, and we sang the song of the voyageurs. 

Our paddles keen and bright, flashing like silver; swift as the wild goose flight, dip, dip, and swing.
Dip, dip, and swing them back, flashing like silver; swift as the wild goose flight, dip, dip and swing.

Repeatedly, we sang the song, each time softer. Soon, we whispered the words and could hear fish jump in lily pads near the water’s edge. We started another round and then he appeared. In the middle of the lake the chief stood in a canoe, his arms folded across his chest, a full bonnet of feathers surrounding his head and hanging down his back. A lantern sitting in the bottom of the canoe illuminated him as two other scouts, dressed as braves, paddled quietly. We watched in awe. The canoe beached and several other staff members, dressed as Native Americans, joined the canoe at the show to help the chief out of the boat. 

A distant drum began to beat as the warriors danced around the dying flames. Then the Chief joined in, dancing across the front and then up into the benches where he crossed back and forth in front of the sitting scouts, just inches away. We sat, entranced. When he came to me, he stopped, turned, slapped my shoulders, and then lifted me up. Before I comprehended what was happening, happening, one of the braves whisked me to the front. He had me stand by the fire, with my arms crossed over my chest. Several other scouts soon joined me. After a while, the Chief led us away as the campfire closed with the singing of the scout vespers.

Softly falls the light of day, as our campfire fades away. Silently each Scout should ask, “Have I done my daily task? Have I kept my honor bright? Can I guiltless sleep tonight? Have I done and have I dared, everything to be prepared?”

I had just been tapped out for the Order of the Arrow, the brotherhood of honored campers. That night, the Chief told us we’d been elected by our peers to be a part of this elite fellowship, but before we would be welcomed into the group, we’d have to pass an ordeal scheduled later in the summer. I was excited, yet nervous about what I’d have to endure. I’d heard about the ordeals: a night alone in the woods, a day of little food, hard work and silence.

When he told us we could go back to our troops, I set out to find my grandparents. I could tell they were proud of me. Granddaddy asked me to walk with them to their car and once we got there, I spied on the floorboard of the back seat, one each side of the drive train hump, two watermelons. Granddaddy gave me one and he took the other and we walked over to our troop site. My grandma carried a butcher knife and a saltshaker. She cut up the melons on a picnic table in the center of our campsite, sprinkled salt on them, and gave everyone a thick wedge. I sure the watermelons came from Coy McKenzie’s farm. Coy was grandma’s nephew. In addition to growing and curing some of the best bright-leaf tobacco in the county, he was well-known for his watermelon patch.

Klahican Lodge Order of the Arrow patch
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Jesus’ temptations

title slide with photo of two rock churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
January 18, 2026
Matthew 4:1-11

Sermon recorded at Blumont on Friday, January 16, 2026.

At the beginning of worship:
There is a story from the Jewish rabbinical tradition of a rabbi who enters his classroom one day. The students are abuzz, taking excitedly. 

“What’s up?” the rabbi asks. 

“Rabbi, we’re afraid the Evil One is pursuing us,” one of the students confessed.

“Don’t worry,” the wise old rabbi replied. “You haven’t gotten high enough yet for him to pursue you. For the time being, you’re still pursuing him.”[1]

It may that way for us. As humans, we don’t need the Devil to encourage us to stray. We do it enough on our own. We try to use the Devil as a scapegoat, as Flip Wilson used to say, “The Devil made me do it.” But don’t forget, we’re still responsible! 

Before reading the Scripture:

Last week we learned about Jesus’ baptism. Those around Jesus heard that voice from the Father, “This is my Son with whom I am well pleased.” But before Jesus can begin his ministry, the Spirit which descended upon Jesus at baptism, leads him into the wilderness for a time of preparation and testing. However, the testing isn’t done by the Spirit, but by the Devil. 

This is a difficult passage to apply to our lives. While Jesus is tested as a human being, he’s not like the students in the rabbi’s class. He knows his position and his purpose. The Devil also knows Jesus’ identity. The tests Jesus faces are on a different level that those we face. In a manner, these tests help clarify the meaning of Jesus’ baptism and him being the beloved of God the Father.[2] Yet, from Jesus’ tests, we can learn.

Let me say something about temptation. The devil is the great deceiver. The word comes from the verb “to split off.”[3] The Devil tries to split us off from God by deception. Again, we’re still responsible. Thankfully, there is also forgiveness. 

We also will learn something about Scripture from this passage. We’ll see that even the devil can quote scripture. It’s not enough for us to cite scripture. Used improperly, God’s word result in evil. This passage stands as a warning. Quoting a bible verse or two doesn’t make us a saint. We must be able to place it in context of the entirety of scripture. 

Read Matthew 4:1-11

Holy things fill our passage.[4] Bread, the staff of life, we use in worship during communion. Throughout Scripture, the sharing of bread is a sign of hospitality. The temple in Jerusalem is a place where for centuries the Hebrew people gathered to worship God. And then we have a mountain peak which provides view over much of the earth. All these things are good, when used in the right manner. But we can also employ good things in the wrong way. 

In Jesus’ temptation, we witness the pious tempted. Even the people who strive to lead holy lives face temptation. No one gets a free pass, whether the Son of God, or poor sinners like all the rest of us. But our text implies the higher up the ladder we go, the more temptation we face. Or, at least, our temptations may become more sophisticated.  

Considering this text, should we be surprised so many religious leaders, especially those in positions of power and prestige, fall from grace? When we think we are important, it’s easy to lose our humility. Then, we find ourselves in a dangerous situation. When we think we’re so important that God needs us or that God will protect us regardless, along comes Satan suggesting, “Go ahead, let’s see.”

Power and prestige are always a double-edged sword. If used properly, they can be the source of great good for others. But if used only for our benefit, they become the source of our downfall. At one time, we drilled phrases like “Pride cometh before the fall,” into the minds of young students. But such truths are seldom heard today. 

Instead, we try to instill pride in our children. And while there is nothing wrong with pride in the right things, we must reclaim humility as an important Christian trait. For pride can also have negative repercussions. 

Excess pride causes us to think too much of ourselves. Examples abound: top athletics desiring to be best, and experiment with performance enhancing drugs. Politicians slipping into the belief only their ideas are right and will do anything to achieve them. Soon, they abuse their positions and act as if the law doesn’t apply to them. Business leaders driven to be successful become less than honest and end up cheating their customers, employees, and shareholders. Temptations abound.

Let’s consider Jesus’ temptations. The first sounds harmless enough. Jesus hasn’t eaten in 40 days, so he’s famished. As God, he has the power to turn stones into bread. And Jesus’ stomach growls with hunger. The Devil hits Jesus where he’s weak. But to lean upon his divine power would diminish the power of Jesus being God in the flesh. So, he refuses and reminds the Devil that to sustain life, we need more than bread. 


Next, we’re taken to the temple. Here, Jesus could put on a fantastic display, throwing himself off the tall spire and have angels save him before he crashes onto the stone pavement. Just think about it; everyone who watches will be amazed and ready to sign up as a disciple. Here, the Devil hits Jesus with an idea to jumpstart his ministry. 

The Devil challenges Jesus with his belief in Scripture. He says essentially, “Jesus, right here in Psalm 91, it says angels wait to catch you. Do you believe this?” But our faith isn’t about putting on a show. It’s about remaining faithful to God. Again, Jesus denounces the Devil by quoting scripture to refute the devil’s scripture. We’re not to test God.

The final temptation has Jesus high on a mountain where Jesus can observe all the kingdoms of the earth. “It’s all yours,” the Devil says, “if only you worship me.” Of course, we might question if the Devil really has the right to give the world. Or is he trying to sell the Brooklyn Bridge to the unaware? Regardless, Jesus, had enough, and tells Satan to take a hike. 

In time, Jesus will claim the world as his own, but he wants his subjects to willfully accept him, not to force obedience. Jesus won’t worship anything other than the God the Father. Nor should we.

What might we learn from this passage which we can apply to our lives?  Let me suggest three take aways: concerning scripture, manipulating God, and forgiveness. 

In his book, Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer discusses how we’re to live within a Christian community. When discussing scripture, Bonhoeffer notes how many people only focus on a handful of verses and how this habit shouldn’t replace the reading of scriptures. He writes:

The verse for the day is still not the Holy Scriptures which will remain throughout all time until the Last Day. Holy Scripture is more than a watchword. It is more than “light for today.” It is God’s revealed Word for all times. Holy Scripture does not consist of individual passages; it is a unit and is intended to be used as such.[5]

Scripture is important, but as the Devil shows, if we pick and choose verses to suit our needs, we may very well misuse God’s word. We must approach Scripture with the right attitude. We must also draw on the entirety of God’s word, not just those verses which further our own ideas or suggest that our wants are in line with God’s will. 

As Jesus shows in his rejecting of the Devil’s ideas, we should not attempt to force God to act in a particular way. Although many of us try, we can’t manipulate God. Instead, we should be thankful for what God does and ask from God only what we really need. And we should trust that God the Father wants the best for us, as we see at the end of the passage when angels nurse Jesus.

Along the same vein, we should avoid making a spectacle out of our faith. Being showy or flashy is not godly. God wants us humble and gracious, not flashy and obnoxious. Our words should be soft and faithful, not loud and showy. 

My third point focuses on forgiveness. While we should strive to be like Jesus, we also know we’re not perfect. Jesus withstood temptation, but we won’t always do that. As Paul says, “all have sinned and fallen short of God’s glory.”[6] When we fail and succumb to temptation, instead of beating ourselves up, we should be like the Prodigal son, running home to his father confessing his sins.[7] We should run to God the Father, confess our sins, and trust in God’s grace as displayed in Jesus Christ.

While few of us would pass the test Jesus endured, all of us are loved and through Christ, if we repent, are worthy of forgiveness. When it comes to temptation, the final word isn’t endurance, but forgiveness. Amen. 

[1] Slightly modified from the Crassid and found in Soul Food: Stories to Nourish the Spirit and the Heart,” Jack Kornfield and Christina Feldman, editors (San Francisco: HarpersSanFrancisco, 1991), 239. 

[2] Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew: Interpretation, A Biblical Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1993), 23. 

[3] Frederick Dale Bruner, The Christbook: Matthew 1-12 (1992, Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2004),119.

[4] Bruner, 128.

[5] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together: A Discussion of Christian Fellowship (New York: Harper & Row, 1954), 50-51. 

[6] Romans 3:23. See also Romans 3:9-12. 

[7] Luke 15:11-32, especially verses 17-18.

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Memories of a Foster Daddy

photo of young girl and one of her and her foster dad.

I started reading Frances Liardet’s novel, We Must Be Brave, this week. It’s about a woman who falls in love with a lost girl whom she cares for during the chaos following the German bombing of Southampton, England during World War 2. The story reminded me of something I experienced and wrote about over 30 years ago, before our other kids came along. At the time, I had the article approved by the social worker, making sure I wasn’t breaking any rules or leaking confidential information,, then submitted it for publication. A magazine accepted the piece for publication, but then they closed down the presses before it was published. So, it sat in my files. This evening I dusted it off and presented it here.

MEMORIES OF A FOSTER DADDY

photo of Becky
Becky, photos are copies (this was before digital)

The first of September 1994, one of the saddest days of my life. 

I waved good-bye to Becky for the final time as the social worker’s car backed down our driveway. But the sadness didn’t take away the joy of the previous six months as I experienced how precious life seen through the eyes of a toddler can be. Becky taught me the importance for adults to spend time with children, caring for them and helping them to discover the world. From Becky, I learned a lesson which everyone needs to experience firsthand. Children need responsible adults in their lives and, as adults, we need children in our lives if we are to experience life to its fullness. Perhaps that is why Jesus was so insistent on the disciples allowing children to come to him (Mark 10:13).

Becky was just a little over a year old when she came to live with us. At first, she seemed so small and fragile. The previous month, she lived in a shelter for children and came complete with a cold. She struggled to go to sleep in a strange place while hacking and coughing. My wife and I took turns holding her, patting her back and saying, “it’s okay,” while praying she would eventually fall asleep. After regaining her health, Becky still had a hard time going to bed. Only then, it had to do with her fear of missing out on something exciting. She was at the age where she wanted to experience all that life had to offer.

Church was a new experience for Becky. On that first Sunday, she seemed stunned to hear my voice from the pulpit and started to run down the aisle. My wife caught her after a couple of steps, and we introduced our foster child to the congregation. Becky came with only a few clothes, mostly worn hand-me-downs. Before her first church service, my wife brought her a lacy pink dress. Becky looked stunning in that dress and she knew it. After worship, she came to me expecting to be held. Acting shy, with her arms tightly hugging my neck, she charmed everyone during fellowship hour.  Soon, however, she lost her shyness and became the terror of the fellowship hour, running around like a wild cookie monster. No one seemed to mind, everyone loved her.

During our time together, Becky and I developed a special relationship. She would get up in the mornings with me, and we would eat oatmeal together.

This was so long ago I was skinny and had hair!

On the days my wife had to work, I would take her to church with me. Even though the nursery with all its neat toys was next to my study, Becky would insist on playing with my books. She would take them off the shelf, rearrange them on the floor, and then put them back in another location.  Sometimes she would demand that I read to her.  I think she found Augustine as boring as I once did. At other times, I would take Becky visiting. I know my parishioners were glad to see us coming, and I’m sure they were just as glad to see us go. Having an energetic toddler along assured me that a short pastoral visit wouldn’t take up the whole afternoon.

In a way Becky became my guardian angel. Taking the suggestion of Family Services, we didn’t teach Becky to refer to us as mother and father. Instead, we allowed it to happen naturally, and Becky quickly took to calling me “da-da.” Becky showed concern for her daddy when my wife dropped me off on a backroad for an overnight backpacking trip. According to my wife, when Becky realized I was not in the car, she panicked and cried “ah-da-da” all the way home. In addition to looking out for me, I found myself looking forward to coming home early so that I could spend time playing with her. Having her around made life less stressful.

at the table

From the beginning, my wife and I made it a point to include Becky in our prayers at mealtime. With her sitting in a highchair between us, we would each take one of her hands and say grace. At first, Becky was not at all cooperative with what must have seemed to her a strange ritual. Instead, she was ready to eat as soon as her food was placed on her plate. Having just come from a children’s shelter, Becky learned not to wait too long when food was available and would stuff herself with whatever placed in front of her.

However, as the months passed, Becky calmed down at the table. She waited for us to sit down while holding out her hands in anticipation of the prayer. Before she left, she had added to word “amen” to her vocabulary and would boldly proclaim it at the end of the prayer.

Although Becky was a foster child, we held out hope that we would be able to adopt her. Becky’s case worker assured us it was unlikely she would be allowed to return to her original family.  Our dreams were shattered when another family member decided to accept custody. We were given two weeks notice, two weeks to say goodbye to her and our dreams, before the social worker moved Becky to her new home.

Running in the backyard

On our last full day together, we took a picnic and went up onto Cedar Mountain. Becky seemed so happy. No longer a fragile sickly little child, she had blossomed into a healthy toddler. She ran around enthusiastically, only to occasionally stop and examine nature. While on that picnic, Becky collected several rocks and sticks and gave them to me for safe keeping. I still have those mementoes, in a small glass case, as a reminder of what a small child considers special in our world.

During the final week of Becky’s stay, I found myself drawn to the passage of her namesake in the Bible. I read and re-read the story of Rebecca in Genesis. I came to understand Rebecca had done all she could to prepare Isaac for life, but in the end, she had to let him go. With Esau out to kill Isaac, Rebecca could no longer protect him. Isaac fled and as far as we know Rebecca never again looked into the eyes of the son she loved so much. It suddenly dawned on me the pain that she must have felt, and the pain that parents everywhere feel when they lose a child.

The Apostle Paul reminds us of how some plant, and others water, but God gives the growth (1 Corinthians 3:6-9). In a way, my wife and I had an opportunity to water and nurture Becky. We cared for her, loved her, and allowed her to love us. But Becky didn’t belong to us, and in the end, we had to let go. We could only pray and trust God, the one who gives the growth, to watch over her.

A few weeks before Becky left us, a fierce thunderstorm in the middle of the night woke her up. I went into her room, picked her up out of the bed and held her. She quickly calmed down. With the thunder rumbling and lightning flashing, Becky started patting me on the back, saying, “it’s okay, it’s okay.” Among other things, she learned to trust and to love.  

I still get tears in my eyes when I think about her; however, I am thankful I had the opportunity to be her daddy, even if only briefly.

Becky had a serious side. At the groundbreaking for the new church facility, Summer 1994.