I’ve noticed of late that my watch is slowing down. It seems to be losing a minute each hour. This is not a good thing. Because when I wake up I think it is this time when I’m about ten minutes behind.

I bought this watch a “Sharp” brand at Walmart four years ago. The battery usually lasts about 4-5 years.

Our physical strength winds down like a watch too – doesn’t it! We get slower and it takes us longer to do some things we did when our battery was up to full strength.

This is frustrating when mentally we are hindered by age but our inner person wants to still do so much. Well, I am headed to the YMCA over the lunch hour to fight back and recharge the aging battery.

Yesterday, in the late afternoon, I went down to King Park on Sheboygan’s South side.  I was all by myself.  The gulls huddled on the shoreline against the deep blue color of Lake Michigan.  But I didn’t go there to watch sea gulls.  I wanted a close up look at the new shelter/pavilion designed a member of our church, Joe Clarke.

It really is striking from so many angles.  Graceful and inviting, it makes you want to walk around it in the backdrop of Lake Michigan.

There will be a waiting list for renting this place for weddings, family reunions and parties.  Way to go, Joe!

Its been a quiet week along the lake in Sheboygan.

The leaves have fallen mostly off the trees now. The sound of high pitched humming from leaf blowers echoed through the neighborhoods.  But Mrs. Krantz still holds on to her old fashioned bamboo rake her late husband bought from the True Value store in 1964.  She claims it cleans the little front lawn she has better than the leaf blower her neighbor bought last year from Home Depot.  Plus she says, “My rake is more accurate and energy efficient.”

At Jume’s restaurant a debate was overheard between Pastor Smoot from the True Baptist Church and Father McMann from Our Lady of Sincerity Catholic Church. They sat back in the corner near the picture of Elvis.  Their discussion was over dogs and if they have souls or not. Pastor Smoot bemoaned a prayer request from a parishioner whose poodle had passed away this week. “She asked me if she’d see him in heaven or not.”

“How did you answer that one?” asked the priest.

“I couldn’t make her more depressed and tell her ‘Yes, of course, dear’ so I just said, ‘Well, we’ll just have to wait and see,” said Pastor Smoot shaking his head.

“Really, that is all you could say in her time of loss, grief and misery? Because all dogs do go to heaven,” stated the priest authoritatively.

“You’re kidding, right.  You know dogs have no souls, ” he quickly spouted as if it was gospel.

“I’m a Franciscan. We believe Jesus loves all God’s creatures great and small.  They all belong in his kingdom. In fact I believe I’ll see, Dominic,  my deceased Yellow Lab when I get to heaven!”

“Well, your theology,” stated pastor Smoot,” has no basis in biblical truth.  Just wishful thinking.”

“Have you never heard of Noah?” inquired the priest.

“What’s Noah have to do with dogs?”

“Well, if animals were brought on the Ark to continue into the the New Earth after the Flood, then it just goes to show that animals – especially man’s best friend, will be included in the new heaven and earth!”

“But dogs do not have souls!” emphasized the pastor.

“How do you know they don’t? Have you ever looked into their eyes and watched their tail wag when you came home after a long day away?  Have you not felt them draw near to you on the couch when they sensed you had a bad day?  Have you ever seen their eyes light up and run gleefully to the door when you asked, “Want to go for a walk?”

Pastor Smoot took a sip from his cup of coffee and sighed, “My Mother was allergic to dogs so growing up we never had one.  And my wife is also allergic.  So, to be honest I never had a dog.”

Father McMann reached across the table and put a hand on his shoulder. “Brother, when you get to heaven you can go for a walk with my dog, Dominic.”   The waitress slapped the check on the table. “I’ll pay for this one,” said Father McMann.

Well, that’s the news from Sheboygan along the Lake where all the women are smart, all the men are opinionated, and all the children want a puppy…

I am the very model of a modern parish minister;

My words are blogged and tweeted without being sinister;

I know the Bible message and its truth I do administer,

I seek to avoid sliding down the loose liberal banister.

My words fly away on something duly digital

From Funny news to Wise sayings in order categorical.

Blogging, Tweeting, Texting is the new voice behavioral;

Why should it not be used at home, work and cathedral?

I am your tweeting/blogging modern parish minister.

Poem by Steven J. Pedersen

 

 

A high school senior saw an inspirational advertisement on television about becoming a teacher.  She called the number shown: 1.800.45TEACH.

After a woman answered, the student immediately began talking about how she thought she had found her life’s calling and asked if she could be sent some information.

The lady who answered the phone asked the student what number she was calling.  The student told her and there was a long pause. Then the woman said, “You misspelled teach.”

I have writers block about this biblical character.  Pulling my hair out trying to write something.

Self-righteous service comes through human effort. True service comes from a relationship with the divine Other deep inside.
Self-righteous service is impressed with the “big deal.” True service finds it almost impossible to distinguish the small from the large service.
Self-righteous service requires external rewards. True service rests contented in hiddenness.
Self-righteous service is highly concerned about results. True service is free of the need to calculate results.
Self-righteous service picks and chooses whom to serve. True service is indiscriminate in its ministry.
Self-righteous service is affected by moods and whims. True service ministers simply and faithfully because there is a need.
Self-righteous service is temporary. True service is a life-style.
Self-righteous service is without sensitivity. It insists on meeting the need even when to do so would be destructive. True service can withhold the service as freely as perform it.
Self-righteous service fractures community. True service, on the other hand, builds community.

Richard Foster, Celebration of Discipline, “The Discipline of Service.”