Why not go out on a limb? That's where the fruit is. — Will Rogers
Approved by the 23-25 June 2016 United Church of Christ
Southern Conference annual meeting, Elon, North Carolina
BACKGROUND
On some medieval maps, the phrase “Here be dragons” was written just beyond the boundary of known exploration. For nearly six decades this image has applied to U.S. citizens’ perceptions of Cuba.
Read more ›by Ken Sehested
Text: Matthew 2:1-12
It wouldn’t surprise me if you’ve never heard of the Naga people, whose ancestral homeland straddles the border area of northeast India, southern China and northwest Burma. In the early 19th century, when British colonizers exerted control over the region, the Nagas were the one people they were never able to fully subdue. The Nagas were known as fierce warriors, and in fact they were headhunters until the first Christian missionaries reached them in the mid-19th century. Naga history before this period is unwritten and barely known; more than likely they migrated from the area now known as Mongolia.
Ever since the British were expelled from India in 1947, there has been a low-intensity war going on in Northeast India. The Naga people actually declared their independence from Britain one day before the new Indian government did so. Both Gandhi and Nehru, the first Indian premier, promised independence for the Nagas. That promised was never kept, and the region has seen sporadic civil war ever since. What makes it even more complicated is the fact that the Naga political party suffered several splits, so that now there are four rival parties, two of which have substantial guerilla armies—often shooting at each other as much as fighting Indian security forces.
Read more ›by Ken Sehested
“For truly, God laughs and plays.”
—Meister Eckhart
I played the game for 13 years, beginning in grade school, and enjoyed watching for many more after that. American style football (what we call soccer is known everywhere else in the world as football) is as choreographed as any ballet performance. Except when the ball is snapped, it turns into something like an after-hours jazz band jam, with improvisation by 22 different players. As such, it can get ugly; but when done with the skill shaped by disciplined practice, it is a thing of beauty.
Read more ›Signs of the Times • 7 February 2018 • No. 151
¶ Processional."La Danse de Mardi-Gras," Steve Riley.
by Ken Sehested
Having been sheltered during adolescence from the Civil Rights Movement (and most everything else outside my small hamlet—except, of course, the far reaches of missionary testimonies), when my attention did turn, during seminary, I became a voracious reader of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and others of the era.
One of my purchases was an over-sized book of photos of Dr. King and other civil rights moments and luminaries. Flipping through, I came upon a photo of King and his wife Coretta sitting at a piano, their infant daughter Yolanda perched on Martin’s lap as he and Coretta sang from an open hymnal.
Read more ›by Ken Sehested
I have a vivid memory of that exact moment. I was in seminary, having fled my native South to Yankeedom to finish college and start theological training, embarrassed at being a Baptist, at being a white Southerner, and not entirely sure if I was a believer. But the God question wouldn’t go away.
A mighty wrestling match was underway in my soul, trying to come to terms with my adolescent “youth revival” preacher days. Neither the Civil Rights nor the anti-Vietnam War movements had disturbed my piously-furrowed brow. Once, in high school, starting a 12-hour shift pumping gas and washing cars, I was transferring product displays and stacks of new tires outside as we prepared to open shortly before dawn. I overheard the radio saying something about Martin Luther King Jr.
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by Ken Sehested
My soul magnifies you, O Lord, and my spirit rejoices in your Saving Presence.
Everything in me comes alive when you look in my direction.
Read more ›by Ken Sehested
John.
Such a tame name for a man born to inhabit
the wild side of heaven’s incursion into
earth’s contempt.
Ken Sehested
You are encouraged to listen to Roberta Flack and
Donny Hathaway’s rendition of “Come, Ye
Disconsolate” before, during or after you read.
We are often suspicious of words of comfort, and
for good reason: such sentiments too often coax us
into being comfortable, too often keep us on our
couches, too often justify passivity in the face of
pillage. As if sanitizing our own hands is the end of
our duty.
by Ken Sehested
"Every company in America should be on its knees thanking Jesus for being born.
Without Christmas, most American businesses would be far less profitable."
—Fox News commentator Bill O’Reilly
I have to admit it was a bit embarrassing to watch the social media outrage of “progressive” Christians (and no, I’m not fond of the modifier) stirred up by the apparent indignation of “traditional” Christians that Starbucks would serve its brews in plain red cups, with nothing but their logo—a 16th century Norse woodcut of a twin-tailed mermaid—instead of those more hallowed images of snowflakes, snowpeople and snow-scened carolers.
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