January 2026 - From a Rocky Hillside

January 31, 2026January 31, 2026

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 7^th 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 7^th Day Adventist movement in the 19^th Century, White wrote many of the church’s documents especially concerning health and vegetarianism. Leach says she prefers another 19^th 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.

January 28, 2026January 28, 2026

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.

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!

January 25, 2026January 25, 2026

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 20^th 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).

January 23, 2026January 23, 2026

Order of the Arrow Tap Out

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.

January 18, 2026January 18, 2026

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.

January 14, 2026April 8, 2026

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.

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.

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.

January 11, 2026January 11, 2026

Why Did Jesus Insist on Baptism?

Title slide with winter photos of two churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
January 11, 2025
Matthew 3:13-17

Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Thursday, January 8, 2026

At the beginning of worship:
John Burgess, a professor at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, wrote a book titled, After Baptism: The Shaping of Christian Life. I like the title, which implies the Christian life begins with Baptism. This was the case with Jesus, too. His baptism signals his movement toward ministry, as we’ll see this morning. Burgess says this about baptism:

Baptism is not a Christian Nobel Prize that recognizes our outstanding contributions to God or humankind. Rather, baptism declares that God has reached out to us, before we ever knew how to reach out to him or others. This God keeps reaching out to us despite our faults and failures…

And he goes on to say:

God calls us “Son” or “Daughter” and invites us to call him “Abba” [Father]. The triune God is a God who comes to those who are weak and helpless, and lifts them up… Every time the church baptizes a baby, it testifies to a God who knows how to bring life out of death, strength out of weakness, and something out of nothing.^[1]

With a birth certificates, our parents gave us a name. At Baptism, we’re given a new name, “Child of God.”

Today we’ll look at Jesus’ baptism and what that means for our Christian lives.

Before reading the Scripture:

We looked at the ministry to John the Baptist during Advent,^[2] but now we return to that ministry as we explore Jesus’ baptism. All four gospels tell of Jesus’ encounter with John, but from different perspectives.

Mark’s gospel, as we saw two years ago when I begin preaching through that gospel, has a short account of Jesus’ baptism. Luke’s account is even shorter. In both cases, baptism is a more personal event for Jesus. Jesus is only the one, in Mark and Luke, who sees the heaven’s open and hears the Father’s voice. And the word is directed to Jesus, not to others. Baptism serves as Jesus’ call to begin his ministry. John’s gospel doesn’t even cover the baptism. Instead, the Baptizer points Jesus out of a crowd as the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.”^[3]

In Matthew’s gospel, we hear John resist Jesus’ request for baptism. And after the baptism, when the heavens open and God the Father speaks, it’s not just to Jesus but for all to hear.

Read Matthew 3:13-17

As I said earlier, at the time of baptism, we’re given a new name. Yes, we still have our given names and our family names, but above all that, we’re identified as a “Child of God.” Baptism has been referred to as the initiation into the church.

Which raises the question John asks. Why does Jesus seek baptism? It’s because the God who gives us a new name in baptism is also a God who desires to be with us. Jesus illustrates this through his life, death, and resurrection.

Our text begins just after Matthew introduces John in the opening verses of Chapter 3. As one commentator noted, John expected a Sylvester Stallone-type to be the Messiah. The Messiah would baptize with “the Holy Spirit and fire,” and divide the wheat from the chaff, storing the wheat and burning the chaff. But instead of Rambo, it’s like Mr. Rogers showed up as the Messiah.^[4] We witness the humility of Jesus as he insists on being baptized by John.

Nevertheless, John recognizes Jesus as the Messiah. He insists that instead of him baptizing Jesus, Jesus should be baptizing him.

But Jesus insists, telling John to do it as this is a “way to fulfill all righteousness.” So, John agrees.

We’re not given any information about how or even where along the Jordan the baptism occurred.

Interestingly, John chose the Jordan River to conduct his preaching and baptisms. This is the river Joshua crossed with the Hebrew people as they entered the Promised Land. Perhaps John even had those desiring baptism to gather on the east bank, in what had been pagan territory, and step into the middle of the stream, where they were dunked into the waters, before climbing out on the west bank.^[5]

Historically, the river marked a boundary between the old and the new, between the slavery of Egypt and the freedom of the Promised Land. And with Jesus baptism, the river symbolizes the crossing of another boundary. Jesus now begins his work as the Messiah. God’s kingdom has come close and those who enter the water and who follow Jesus will enter not just the Promised Land, but in the fulfillment of time, God’s kingdom.

Matthew tells us that when Jesus came up from the water, the skies open. He saw God’s Spirit descending like a dove and a voice from heaven saying, “This is my Son, my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” A dove represents the Spirit at Jesus’ baptism. John’s not completely wrong for he earlier says the Messiah will baptize with the Spirit and fire.^[6] Fire is another symbol of the Spirit.

Here, at Jesus baptism, we have a reflection of all three persons of the Trinity. The Son is baptized as the Spirit descends and the Father speaks. Also, in Matthew, this voice is given for all to hear. The Father proclaims, “This is my Son,” unlike in Mark and Luke, where the voice says, “You are my Son,” addressing only Jesus. I prefer Matthew’s telling because he captures Jesus’ larger role as the one who came to offer hope to all the world.

From the wisemen as we saw two weeks ago, to the sending of the disciples at the at end of Matthew’s gospel, Jesus’ message extends beyond those in Israel’s historic boundaries to all the world.^[7]

Now let’s go back to John’s reluctance to baptize Jesus. John had preached a baptism of repentance. When we repent of our sins, it means we turn away from sin and strive to live a better life. John invited those at this point in their lives into the waters which symbolizes the washing away of all that’s dirty. With this background, John’s reluctance makes sense. Jesus, we proclaim, remained sinless.

Obviously, for his own life, Jesus didn’t need to be baptized. But Jesus comes in the flesh to experience the human condition and on the cross, takes on the sins of the world. By accepting baptism, Jesus identifies with us. He shows how sin should no longer burden us, that we should be free to step out of bondage as represented by the east bank of the Jordan and into the new life of the Promised Kingdom as we climb up the west bank.

Or, how in baptism as Paul illustrates, we go under the water which represents our dying to sin, and we come up out of the water into new life.^[8]

While Jesus doesn’t need baptism to wipe away his sins, he seeks out the sacrament because it is a part of God’s plan for him to fully experience what it means to be human. Jesus wants to identify as one of us. Jesus’ baptism identifies his willingness to be obedient to the will of God. It ushers in a new chapter in his life as he now focuses on his public ministry.^[9]

Today, as we recall Jesus’ baptism, we should also recall our own baptisms. Of course, many of us don’t remember our baptism. I was baptized on Easter Sunday in 1957, at the Culdee Presbyterian Church in Eastwood, North Carolina by the Rev. Thomas Young. I was about 3 months old, so I don’t remember it. But I have seen the pictures.

But it doesn’t matter that I don’t remember my baptism, for baptism is a sacrament which reminds us of what God has done for us long before any of us were here. It’s not the act of baptism itself that matters, for baptism only signifies the grace God has shown us in Jesus Christ. Instead, we focus on love of God who gave his life for ours, long before any of us where here. And this God, who came in the flesh for us, offers us forgiveness and new life.

So, remember your baptism. It’s the sign of your salvation. The Reformer Martin Luther, who struggled with depression, when feeling down, would recite, “I am baptized, I am baptized.” He also supposedly remembered his baptism every morning when he washed his face.^[10] It’s not a bad practice, for nothing we have is as important as what God has done for us. Baptism reminds us God has, for us, reversed the curse of death^[11] and offers us new life. Amen.

^[1] John P. Burgess, After Baptism Shaping the Christian Life (Louisville, KY: WJKP, 2005), 4-5.

^[2] https://fromarockyhillside.com/2025/12/07/advent-2-the-preaching-of-john-the-baptist/

^[3] Mark 1:9-11, Luke 3:21-22, and John 1:29-34.

^[4] Scott Hoezee, Commentary on Matthew 3:13-17, https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2020-01-06/matthew-313-17-2/. The Biblical reference I added is from Matthew 3:11b-12.

^[5] The idea of entering on one side and leaving on the other came from Chelsey Harmon’s commentary on the text. https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2026-01-05/matthew-313-17-4/

^[6] Matthew 3:11.

^[7] Matthew 2:1-13 (see sermon) and Matthew 28:16-20.

^[8] Romans 6:3-4.

^[9] Frederick Dale Bruner, The Christbook: Matthew 1-12 (1987, Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 2004),102-103.

^[10] https://www.goodsoillutheran.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/02/Remembering-Your-Baptism.pdf

^[11] Gensis 3:19.

January 6, 2026January 9, 2026

December Reviews and a 2025 Reading Recap

Stephen Starring Grant, Mailman: My Wild Ride Delivering the Mail in Appalachia and Finally Finding Home

(New York: Simon & Schuster, 2024), 285 pages.

At the beginning of the COVID pandemic in 2020, Steve Grant found himself without a job. At age 50, with a family to support and in need medical insurance for cancer treatment, he leaves behind his white-collar life and becomes a mailman. This book humorously recalls his training for and then delivering the mail. He did this for a year, after which he accepted a position like the one he held before the pandemic. During this year, working with all types of people, he comes to appreciate the constitutional mandated role the Postal Service plays in America.

Grant grew up in Blacksburg, Virginia. His father, who would die before he finished the book, worked as a professor of engineering at Virginia Tech. Grants spends a lot of time discussing his parents, especially his father who had been his Boy Scout leader and introduced him to the outdoors. Before the pandemic, Grant mostly lived in major cities. But with young daughters, he decided to move his family back to Blacksburg, thinking it was the perfect place to raise children.

At several places he discusses firearms. Grant grew up hunting and fishing and understand that many (if not most) of the people living in the rural areas around Blacksburg packed guns. His father had been shot but survived in the 2007 shooting at Virginia Tech. Grant, himself, had also been glazed by a bullet from a drive-by shooter while working on a project in Austin, Texas. The Postal Service has strict laws and don’t allow guns on Post Office property, including their vehicles. Private vehicles which Grant and most rural carriers drive, is a gray area and at times Grant carried a gun, not on person but stuck between his seat.

With the rhetoric around the election of 2020 and the role the Post Office played in delivering absentee, he felt himself in danger. Thankfully, he never had any problems but noted that there one postal worker in the nation did mishandle ballots. This was in New Jersey and the mail carrier, a Trump supporter, tried to avoid delivering ballots to those he suspected to be Biden supporters.

While he may have overestimated the danger of transporting ballots, the Post Office is a dangerous job. Today, it’s more dangerous than coal mining. Only loggers, workers on oil wells, and garbage collectors have higher rate of on-the-job accidents. Seven out of every 100 employees experience some kind of injury each year. From repetitive injuries to dog bites, to vehicle accidents to wasp swarms, mail carrying can be dangerous.

As for the knowledge of one political leaning, Grant let his readers in on a not too secret fact. We think Santa Claus knows the naughty from the nice, but it’s really the mailman. They know what magazines you read, what sex toys you receive, and a lot of other stuff about each person along a mail route. And while lots of stuff come in brown envelopes for conceal, the post office has a good idea of what’s inside. And occasionally things such as sex toys are not concealed. He told about the morning as all the mail carriers were sorting their mail, on oversized sex toy in a clear plastic bag appeared in a woman carrier’s delivery for the day. She lifted it up for everyone to see, bragging that she’d be delivering someone a good time.

While Grant delivered the mail in 2020 and early 2021, the volume increased. By July 2020, they were surpassing the Christmas rush. Then, when Amazon and UPS got into an argument and the online retailer shipped everything through the Post Office, things got even busier. Most of this time, Grant just delivered packages, freeing the regular mail carriers to get the mail out. Having come out of a corporate world and with an understanding of logistics, Grant made suggestions. He quickly learned no one was interested. The only interest they had in him was delivering mail. He learned his lesson.

While admitting the job was difficult, Grant also came to appreciate the role the Post Office plays in the American experience. The Post Office has a mandate to treat everyone the same, unlike other package delivery folks. While it is a bureaucracy, they try to treat their clients as citizens, not customers. And, as he reminds us repeatedly, they don’t receive money from Congress and are self-funded.

Grant appreciated those who thanked him for delivering the mail. From a cookie or a cup of coffee to passing on old magazines, many people showed gratitude. Of course, there were others who blamed him for delayed packages. And then there are dogs. These best friends seem to be DNA-wired with a dislike of mail carriers. In training, they taught them how to defend themselves and were provided pepper spray.

Reading this book, I gained empathy for the challenges of those who deliver our mail. I also appreciated Grant’s insights into the job and how, even though each carrier has different ideas and political points of view, they form a family and look out for one another. While some may bristle at some of Grant’s political views (he’s a liberal with a concealed carry permit), he strives to rise above politics and offer a vision for everyone to get along in a time of political chaos. I recommend this book.

Kiki Petrosino, White Blood: A Lyric of Virginia

(Louisville, KY: Sarabande Books, 2020), 107 pages

This delightful selection of poetry reflects on what it means to be mixed race in Virginia. Petrosino divides the poems into sections, some of which appear to be based on a DNA sample such as “What Your Results Mean: West Africa 28%” or “Northwestern Europe, 12%, or “North and East Africa, 5%. The two larger sections are based on places. Albermarle contains many poems about Thomas Jefferson’s home, Monticello. Some are set in the present, as the poet tours the home, and others look back to when it was a working plantation In Louisa, the poems are drawn from courthouse records and information of those long gone including free blacks during the time of slavery.

Most of these poems I found easily accessible, except for three sets of poems whose titles are the DNA percentages. Each percentage section contains several pages consisting of words positioned randomly across a page. I have seen a few other such poems, but I just don’t understand them. Did she write these poems by taking a part of her DNA description and selecting words and deleting all the rest to make the poem?

I decided to read these poems because the author will be a featured speaker at Calvin University’s Festival of Faith and Writing this year. Kiki Petrosino teaches poetry at the University of Virginia. I recommend her book for white readers to learn how those of mix race descendants must feel in a society which seems to focus too much on racial supremacy.

Malcolm Guite, Waiting on the Word: A Poem a Day for Advent, Christmas and Epiphany

(Norwick, UK: Canterbury Press, 2015), 158 pages.

Guite is an Anglican priest and a poet who lives in England but has a large following around the country. I was first introduced to him in 2022 at the HopeWords Writing Conference in Bluefield, West Virginia. At first, I wasn’t sure what to make of the man. His appearance reminded me of a hobbit who had groupies following him all around. Since that time, I have read several of his works. I find him to be not just an engaging poet, but a scholar with a deep knowledge of poetry, the Bible, and language. I have also learned of others who appreciate his poetry such as Russell Moore, who comes out of a Southern Baptist tradition which is far from the formality of Anglicanism.

In this book, Guite offers a poem a day from the day of December through January 6, Epiphany. While some of his poems are his own such as Refugees, which I recently used in a sermon, most are from other poets. These include both contemporary poets such as Scott Caird and Luci Shaw to more classical poets such as George Herbert, John Donne, John Keats, Christina Rossetti, Alfred Lord Tennyson, and John Milton. After each poem, Guite provides several pages of commentary in which he draws from his vast knowledge of poetry and Scripture to help make the poem more accessible.

This is a perfect book to read and reread as a seasonal devotional.

Andrew Ross Sorkin, 1929: Inside the Greatest Crash in Wall Street History and How It Shattered a Nation

(Audiobook, 2025), 13 hours and 30 minutes.

I listened to this book mostly while driving down to Harkers Island to fish with my uncle and siblings. Sorkin approaches the Wall Street crash of October 29, 1929 from the perspective of the major players on Wall Street, in banking and in the government. He also includes a few outside of financial circles such as Charlie Chapin and Winston Churchill, who was an invited guest to stock market in October 1929.

I tried to reserve this book from the library but I’m behind several people and was not able to obtain a copy to review the names of the characters (of which their are many) within the book.

The times were different. Before the 1920s, only a small percentage of Americans invested in the stock market. Then during the boom, bankers offered deals for more common people to invest, especially through buying stocks on a 10% margin. This worked fine as long as the stocks rose. As more people invested in a market, stocks rose beyond their value. But when the bubble began to bust and the stocks lost value, banks began to demand more money to meet the margin people had invested. And when people couldn’t make the margin payments, they lost as well as the banks. Soon, the market was in a freefall.

Lots of money was lost, but not everyone lost. Those who sensed the market was overvalued had shorted their stocks. One man, already rich, made a huge fortune by betting against the market. He came home that day, with his wife having already moved their stuff into the servant’s quarters, thinking they could no longer afford their house. Then she learned his good fortune as he’d made 11 million the day of the crash. But he later lost his fortune as he continued to play the market like a casino.

While I enjoyed listening to this book, I felt Sorkin could have tied together better what was happening in the world. Especially the issue of German repayments for the Great War, which he writes about in detail, but I felt he didn’t tie it to the general economic conditions of the world economy. Also mentioned but not in detail were the problems with tariffs. Instead, Sorkin captures the lives of bankers during this time of economic turmoil. The book primarily covers from the end of Coolidge’s through Hoover’s and early into Roosevelt’s presidency.

2025 Reading Summary:

I completed 46 books in 2025, about the same number that I read in 2024. However, in 2024, I spent much of the summer bogged down in Augustine’s City of God. This year, I didn’t read any book with 1200 pages of small print, but I did read several serious histories and biographies. Here’s the breakdown and comparison to the past couple of years:

	2021	2022	2023	2024	2025
Total Read	54	53	53	45	46
Fiction	8	4	8	6	7
Poetry	5	6	1	3	5
History/ Biography	13	17	13	12	21
Theology/ ministry	16	22	15	11	9
Essay/Short Stories	8	3	6	1	3
Humor	4	1	3	2	4
Nature	6	9	13	10	3
Politics	3	3	5	10	14
Memoirs	10	11	4	14	10
Writing how-to	2	2	1	1	1
Women authors	14	7	16	14	10
Read via Audible	20	20	26	19	22
Books reviewed	30	34	39	32	46

The numbers don’t add up because many books appear in multiple categories.

2025 Recommendations

This year, I did a monthly recaps in which I reviewed all the books I completed in the previous month, so I won’t give you a yearly recap of all the books. Instead, here are some of my favorite books that I recommend:

Best fiction: Delia Owens, Where the Crawdads Grow While this novel sometimes pushed believability, I really enjoyed it. Part of that comes from having grown up around the salt marsh in North Carolina.

Most enjoyable read: Bernard DeVoto, The Hour: A Cocktail Manifesto This short book about the cocktail hour had me laughing throughout its pages. Who’d thought a western historian could be so sarcastic and funny?

Best Theology: Malcolm Guite, Waiting on the Word (reviewed above). While not heavy theology, it was a pleasure to read and connect poems with scripture and theology.

For understanding America: Timothy Egan, A Fever in the Heartland. Indiana in the 1920s was a hotbed for the Klan. Controlling the state government, they looked to expand nationally, but thankfully due to the sexual appetites of the leaders, they fell from grace. Racism and sexism are still with us today.

For understanding the World: Alexander Vindman, The Folly of Realism. Vindman, whose family fled Ukraine when he was a child and who later became an army officer working in international relations, has a unique perspective for understanding the situation in Ukraine and how it relates to America.

Reading summaries from other blog friends:

January 4, 2026January 4, 2026

What do we do when we feel threatened?

title slide with photo of the two churches decorated for Christmas

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
January 4, 2026
Matthew 2:13-23

Sermon recorded at Bluemont on Friday, January 2, 2026

At the beginning of worship:

In his devotional, Waiting on a Word, which contains a poem a day along with reflections from Advent through Epiphany, Malcolm Guite ponders the sentimentalization of the Nativity. With houses “deluged in a cascade of cosy Christmas images, glittery frosted cards, and happy holy families who seem to be remarkably comfortable in strangely clean stables, we can lose track of the essential gospel truth: that the world into which God chose to be born for us was then, as now, fraught with danger and menace.”^[1]Our readings this year in the gospel of Matthew serves as an antidote for becoming too sentimental.

Reflecting on the Holy Family’s fleeing Bethlehem, Guite included one of his own poems, “Refugee.”

We think of him as safe beneath the steeple,
Or cosy in a crib beside the font,
but he is with a million displaced people
On the long road of weariness and want.
For even as we sing our final carol
His family is up and on that road,
Fleeing the wrath of someone else’s quarrel,
Glancing behind and shouldering their load.
Whilst Herod rages still from his dark tower
Christ clings to Mary, fingers tightly curled,
The lambs are slaughtered by the men of power,
And death squads spread their curse across the world.
But every Herod dies, and comes alone
To stand before the Lamb upon the throne.^[2]

Before reading the Scripture:

As we’ve seen over the past three Sundays, Matthew doesn’t spend much time with Jesus’ birth. Instead, he focuses on the wisemen, Herod’s reaction to the birth of the child, and the holy family’s flight into Egypt. Today, we’ll explore that flight and the horrific massacre of the innocent.

There are three parts to our story. First, an angel tells Joseph in a dream to take the child and flee to Egypt to escape Herod’s plans. Then we have Herod ordering the killing. In the final section, Herod dies. Joseph is given the “all-clear” signal to move back to Israel. But all is not well, for Herod’s family lives on. Through it all, Matthew reminds his readers this took place to fulfill scripture. Matthew writes to those familiar with the Hebrew scriptures, and he wants them to see how God works so that the world might benefit from the realization of God’s promises.

Read Matthew 2:13-23

This disturbing passage comes on the heels of the Christmas story. We celebrate the birth of the prince of peace, and then, all a sudden, we’re thrown back into the cruelty of the world. Herod, a pathetic character if ever there was one, feels threatened. A cornered tyrant, he does whatever it takes to maintain power and control, even if it means taking the lives of the innocent. Unfortunately, Herod is not an isolated example.

A few years ago a political cartoon depicted a nativity scene, we’re all familiar with them. The person setting up the scene placed two toy tanks on each side. When questioned why, he said it through it made the scene look more realistic.

In 2001, after the twin towers fell, a Palestinian bishop in Jerusalem, and we tend to forget many Palestinians are Christians, wrote in his Christmas message, “Herod the king was eager to protect his power… He thought violence was the only way to security. Our world has many Herod’s, who think they can protect their nations and interest by violence, or change the world using arms, or remain in power by killing others, and achieve security with the Cobra, the Apache, or the F16.”^[3]

Although we shouldn’t justify Herod, we might understand how Herod felt when he discovered through the wisemen a new king was on his way. It troubled Herod.

A few years ago, there was a commercial for the Wall Street Journal. A woman in a suit, obviously an executive, and a skater dude who worked in the mail room entered an elevator. There were two other men in suits in the back. As they rode up, the woman noticed the skater dude reading the Journal. Impressed, she told him they were hiring a new vice president of a particular operation and gave him her card as she got off the elevator. As the two men continued riding the elevator up, one looked like he’d seen a ghost. The other guy says, “Hey, isn’t that your position.” The news of the wisemen must have made Herod feel like that guy.

Even though the baby in Bethlehem is a long way from being a threat, Herod’s paranoid gets the best of him. But this wasn’t the first time. He had one of his own sons killed. He also killed a wife and a brother-in-law, whom he considered threats. Emperor Augustus supposedly remarked it was safer to be Herod’s pig than his son. At least a pig stood a chance.^[4]

Compounding Herod’s paranoia was his self-imposed isolation. He boxed himself off. Like Stalin, he killed all who threatened him, whether the threat was real or imagined. Kind of like Stalin who wasn’t Russian, but Georgian, Herod was only nominally Jewish.^[5] Herod, like Stalin and many horrific figures in human history, didn’t have the best interest of his people at heart. They looked out for themselves.

Herod didn’t seem to understand the faithful had been waiting for the Messiah for centuries. He hadn’t gone to the synagogue school to learn the prophecies, or if he did, he didn’t pay attention. He couldn’t comprehend the joy in the news of the wisemen. Herod wants to maintain his position of authority and doesn’t feel the need for God or anyone else, although he’d be in a heap of trouble without the Roman military. He’s an isolated man unable to rejoice at anything but his own doing. That’s why he is so troubled.

With the news of the birth of a king, Herod feels as if a knife has been thrust into his back. And, when we find ourselves in some situations, our survival instincts kick in. If we’re not careful, we’ll make a bad situation even worse.

The late Rabbi Edwin Friedman, a well-known psychologist and family counselor, wrote about how humans, when threaten, revert to a “reptilian mode of thinking.” He labeled such behavior as “reptilian regression.”^[6]

If you think about it, reptiles are not playful. They don’t have a nurturing relationship. Many even eat their own. Their only concern is survival, and they will do whatever it takes to continue living. This survival instinct has been preprogramed into our brains. Generally, we operate at a higher level, but when really scared, we regress back to the “survival of the fittest” mentality. This happened to Herod. He hears of a new king and is so afraid of being overthrown, he orders the killing of the infants.

It’s hard to have sympathy for Herod, along with Hitler, Pol Pot, Stalin, Putin, and others throughout history who take evil to a new level. Yet, we must realize in our own small ways, we too act out of self-interest.

Hopefully, none of us would stoop to murder. And when someone in our society stoops so low, they can be quickly stopped because we don’t have the power someone like Herod had in the first century. But we do act in other harmful ways. Sin remains close at hand, especially when we feel threatened. Satan always lurks nearby, ready to offer us a helping hand so we might protect our self-interest.

Yet, even Herod is not absolute. He’s a pawn in a larger game of chess. He allows himself and his power to be used in a way to attempt the destruction of the one hope the world has to reconcile with God.

Of course, this passage really isn’t about Herod. He’s just a minor character in a larger drama which takes place.

The passage is really about God’s providence. It’s about God protecting and guiding his own Son so the world might be reconciled with the creator. Using angels within dreams, God communicates the urgency for Joseph to take his wife and son and flee to Egypt. There, beyond the tentacles of Herod, Jesus remains safe. And once Herod dies, Joseph learns it’ssafe to return to his homeland.

In our story this morning, Joseph has no choice but to trust God. He’s a refugee, one without status, with a wife and child to for whom to care. He’s all alone in the world and has only God to trust. Herod, on the other hand, can attempt to control his destiny and so he takes things into his own hands. And we see where that got him. Satan had a field day.

We should use those times we feel betrayed as opportunities to deepen our trust in God, not as an occasion to strike back. During such times when we are torn in conflict, we should remember that vengeance belongs to God. Whenever we take God’s vengeance into our hands, innocent people get hurt.

In his book, The Peacemaker A Biblical Guide to Resolving Personal Conflict, Ken Sande reminds his readers that whenever we experience conflict, which often arise from betrayal, we should look at it as an opportunity to glorify God.^[7] We have a choice. We can show our love, respect, and trust in God.

Through our actions, we can show others how we rest in God’s grace and peace. Or we can be like Herod and take matters into our own hands, and play second fiddle to the devil.

Both Joseph and Herod felt betrayed. Joseph’s betrayal came from his government, one which did not look out for its people. Yet, he trusted God. Herod felt betrayed because an infant destined to be greater than he and all human kings. Instead of trusting God, Herod took matters into his own hands and became Satan’s pawn. There are many times in our lives in which we feel as if we’ve betrayed. How do we respond? Do we use such opportunities to learn to trust God’s providence, like Joseph? I hope so, for when we think about it, the alternative causes more destruction. Amen.

Parts of this sermon was taken from a sermon I preached in December 2001.

^[1] Malcolm Guite, Waiting on the Word: A Poem a Day for Advent, Christmas and Epiphany (Norwich, UK: Canterbury Press, 2015), 115.

^[2] Guite, 115, “Refugee.”

^[3] Bishop Munib A. Younan, Christmas Message 2001, from the internet and used in a sermon of mine on December 30, 2001.

^[4] Kenneth E. Bailey, “Incarnation and the Slaughter of the Innocents,” The Presbyterian Outlook, 24-31 December 2001.

^[5] I was reminded of Stalin’s similarities after reading Simon Sebag Montefiore, Stalin: The Court of the Red Tsar (New York: Knopf, 2004).

^[6] Edwin H. Friedman, Friedman Fables (New York: Guilford Press, 1990), 155.

^[7] Ken Sande, The Peacemaker: A Biblical Guide to Resolving Personal Conflict (1990, Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1997).

January 1, 2026January 29, 2026

An End of the Year Letter

Dear Friends,

I didn’t get out a Christmas letter in time, so this will have to suffice…

It’s the 29^th of December as I begin writing this end of the year letter. This morning, I took down the 16-point Moravian Star which hangs on my front porch from the first week of Advent through Epiphany. I know it’s not yet Epiphany. But that punched tin star with dangling chain could easily become a weapon if it broke loose in the near hurricane force winds currently blowing outside. And the temperature has dropped significantly. It was 50 degrees when I got up this morning and at 9 PM, has dropped to 20 degrees F. By early morning, it’ll be in the low teens. Before I’m blown off this ridge, let me share a bit about the year coming to an end and the new one about to begin.

Personally, 2025 has been good. I’m still in decent health and walk quite a bit each week. I still enjoying serving the two rock churches along the Blue Ridge Parkway. This year, I finished preaching through the gospel of Mark at Easter, then switched to Psalms as I picked out those I have yet to preach on in the past 37 years. Then, in the fall I did a series on the Nicene Creed, as this year marks the 1700^th year of the Council of Nicaea. Since Advent, I have been preaching from Matthew. This ministry has been a blessing.

I have become more involved in the community, serving on the Laurel Fork Community Board, Carroll County’s Litter Task Force, and helping once a month on the ministerial association’s food bank. And my garden produced enough tomatoes for sandwiches along with soups and salsas canned and stored in the pantry. Unlike 2024 when a groundhog ate my cucumbers, I got enough to make two batches of lime pickles. And stored in the basement are plenty of winter squash.

In May, I set off with my brother on a bicycle trip from Pittsburgh to Washington, DC. The first of the trip was on the Great Allegheny Passage (GAP) and was lovely, even though we had rain! But once we hit Cumberland, MD, things fell apart. The rain caused flooding along the C&O Canal which was our route to Washington. The trail flooded and at places washed out. With my Achilles tendon hurting and more rain forecasted, we gave up. Hopefully, we can do the C&O part next year.

In June I spent some time in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and took a four-day solo paddle around Drummond Island. This was a lot of fun, and I got some solo wilderness time in, but three nights wasn’t enough. Coming back from Michigan, I was able to spend time in Ohio’s Hocking Hills.

In October, I attended my 50th high school reunion. Where did the time go? It doesn’t seem that long ago we dressed in blue caps and gowns and marched out onto the football field at Legion Stadium.

In early December, I spent five days with my brother, sister, and uncle, on Harkers Island, North Carolina. We fished off Cape Lookout. While we caught enough fish for a couple of dinners, that was about it. But being there with siblings made it worthwhile.

My biggest complaint of the year is continual delays in construction. Don’t get me started. A garage started a year ago will hopefully be completed with doors at the end of January.

But I can’t complain too much. I knew from the time I first saw this place that we were buying a view. However, I never knew we’d be living in a construction zone for five years. Yet, I still love living here.

In addition to the above grievance, I’m troubled about the direction our country and our world. But without going into politics, let me say that I’m getting old and probably on my way to becoming a curmudgeon. Despite Jesus’ command to love everyone, I find myself despising litterbugs and with no tolerance for jerks and bullies. I wish people were more responsible and would show concern for their neighbors and strangers.

While I’m far from perfect, it appears the lives of many who claim to follow Jesus miss key points of our Savior’s teachings. I know hypocrites have always abound, but why can the message be about love. And we could all be a bit humbler. After all, our hope in life and death isn’t in what we do, but what Jesus has done for us. While none of us, by ourselves, can end wars or solve poverty or racism, we can make things better for those around us and hopefully this will encourage others to join in and make the world better. And if enough join in, we just might make a difference.

My reading this year seems heavy, but unlike 2024, I didn’t delve into a monumental 1200-page book of fine print like Augustine’s City of God. I read a lot of civil rights works. I finished Taylor Branch’s America in the King Years trilogy, Jon Meacham’s biography on John Lewis, Derwin Gray’s Healing Our Racial Divide, and Timothy Egan’s “Fever in the Heartland,” which is about the Klan in Indiana in the 1920s. Egan’s book is one all Americans should read as there are many parallels to the present.

I also discovered a new “favorite” author, Leo Damrosch. His book, The Club: Johnson, Boswell, and Friends Who Shaped an Age was wonderful. Can you imagine being in a “club” with people like Gibbons as he wrote The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire? And then there was Adam Smith writing The Wealth of Nations, and Edmund Burke, who would became the father of what, until late in the last century, we called conservativism. I also delved into Damrosch’s biography of a favorite satirist, Jonathan Swift. By far the most entertaining (and short) book) I read was Bernard DeVoto’s The Hour: A Cocktail Manifesto. This year I reviewed all the books I read in my blog,.

My big news is that I am quickly moving toward retirement. I have always held out age 70 as the time to retire. God willing, I’ll reach that birthday in January 2027, so this will most likely be my last full year of ministry. Looking back, I feel very blessed. And I know there will be other opportunities for ministry even after I retire. They may not pay as well, but that’s okay (if there are few required meetings). Hopefully, when I retire, I will fill my time with writing, woodworking, gardening, paddling, hiking, amateur radio, and travel.

In 2026, I plan to attend again attend the Festival of Faith and Writing at Calvin University. I also hope to do some paddling, head back to Michgan’s Upper Peninsula, and maybe make a trip out West. I still have sagebrush in skin. And hopefully we’ll soon be done with the construction work around the house and can start gardening more as well as take more naps in a hammock on warm days. And, while I have had many articles published over the years, I learned this fall that this Spring I will have my first poem published!

As for the rest of the family… Donna continues as Communication Director for a presbytery and remains very involved on the board of Tri-Area Health Care. She has lately taken up watercolor painting. Caroline still works in the cork business and does incredible work with fabric. She made me a wonderful “Bear” quilt and spins her own yarn and has made most of her sweaters. Thomas and his family are now living in Las Vegas.

May God’s grace shine upon you in 2026.

Blessings,
Jeff