Action was taken on the following items:
2022 Clergy compensation report
2022 Leadership report
2021 Membership report
Scouting settlement resolution
Action was taken on the following items:
2022 Clergy compensation report
2022 Leadership report
2021 Membership report
Scouting settlement resolution
I am a very bad driver and also a very unlucky one. My last three cars were totaled over a period of three years. One accident was 100% my fault; one was 100% the other person’s fault; and one had fault split 50-50. Needless to say, this has made me a Nervous Nellie at the wheel, especially in wintry weather. Or traffic. Or construction. Or after dark. Or on interstates. Or any time, really.
When I am forced to drive on the highway during unfavorable conditions, I choose the middle lane. They go too fast in the left-hand lane. Too much merging happens in the right-hand lane. But even the middle lane has its terrors: cars – and trucks! – on BOTH sides of me.
So I’ve developed a little rhyming mantra I chant to myself as I brave the highway: Just stay between the lines. That’s all you have to do. Just stay between the lines. That’s enough for you.
Those white-painted lines keep me from drifting into disaster. They serve as my anchor to keep my little automotive ship from tossing too treacherously in the turbulent asphalt sea. As Christians, our anchor is Jesus. Paul writes in Hebrews 6:19: “We have hope [in Christ] as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul.” Paul remained unflustered during shipwreck because he knew that God’s promise is that we need “have no anxiety about anything” (Philippians 4:6).
This Advent, and in this coming year, and always, I’m going to join Paul in rejoicing in the anchor of God’s assurances to us. I’m going to work hard on staying within those lines.
—Claudia Mills
After my mother’s death, I replanted some of her favorite roses into my garden. Their beauty brings joy, peace of mind, and memories of her unending love and devotion to her family and the sacrifices she made to better our lives. Christ’s mother Mary had this pure love, sacrificing much so that we might have Jesus in our lives. Of all my many rosebushes, the last one to stop blooming each fall is the one with pure white blooms. All around it, Nature is withering, but it continues to stand above all others in glory and majesty. I call it my Christ Rose. May we all share this purity of Christ’s love with others this Christmas.
—Sandra Jordan
The annual Christmas gathering of the Ladies Lunch Bunch took place today at Murphy's in Louisville. A good time was had by all!!
In May 2010, Bob and I, Mary Ferree, and my Orthodox brother Mark were fortunate enough to join an Orthodox pilgrimage to the ancient monastic sites of Ireland, Northern Ireland, and the Aran Isles. We saw hundreds and hundreds of Celtic crosses, from the small stone slabs that were simply etched with the circled cross to towering and highly carved 25-foot-high crosses which mark sacred sites. The Monasterboice (“monastery of St. Boice”) example is remarkable. About 30 of these 10th century high crosses still exist. On Inish Mor, the largest of the Aran Isles, is an intensely moving and very ancient cemetery with over 120 graves of monastic monks in the sandy remains of one 5th-8th century churchyard (the monasteries only ended there with the Viking raids). On that island, only nine miles long, were eight monasteries; the first was founded in 484 by St. Enda. Over a dozen early canonized saints were buried there; many monks who trained there went on to found other Christian sites.
The cross itself only emerged as the predominant Christian symbol in the 4th century. Before that the dove, the ship, the anchor, the rose, and other symbols were often used. By the 5th century, the first example of the “nimbus cross” (the cross surrounded by a circle, ring, or halo) appeared in Ireland. One legend tells that St. Patrick took the pagan standing stone circles (honoring the sun and moon) and drew a cross within those circles as he converted Druids. He thus illustrated God’s endless, eternal love surrounding the symbol of the greatest sacrifice made for that love. A severely truncated version of St. Patrick’s prayer—“God above me, God below me, God within me, God behind me, God before me”—describes a circle. St. Bridget’s “caim” (caim = a loop or an invisible protective circle) augmented Patrick’s version and is used yet in Ireland. Some builders note that the circle around the carved cross also strengthens and supports the intersecting arms of stone crosses.
Whatever or however the nimbus Celtic cross started and flourished and flourishes still, it is quite meaningful to me and is an apt Chrismon.
—Pat Muckle
As we continue to call for bold leadership and advocate for policies rooted in justice and sustainability, we understand that God is calling each of us to respond and that as a denomination we cannot hope to transform the world until we change our way of being in it.(2016 Book of Resolutions, #1035, “Climate Change and the Church’s Response”)
As COP26, the U.N. Climate Change Conference, comes to an end in Glasgow, Scotland, this week, there is still plenty of work to do.
As people of faith, we have a special calling to honor all of creation and establish justice. Church and Society invites you to participate in the winter webinar series, “Climate & Community: A Faithful Action for Climate Justice,” where we will hear from experts and assemble toolkits to help us take the next steps post-COP26.
Read more at this link.