Commentary

by Francisco Rodés

On April 4, 1968, I was spending several weeks working as a volunteer during the sugar cane harvest when I first heard the shocking news of the death of Martin Luther King, Jr.  (Later I will explain why a young Baptist pastor found himself in that situation, in a voluntary work camp in which 95% of the workers were either members of the Communist Party or were members of the Communist Youth.)  As we sat eating our lunch, sitting on bundles of harvested cane and listening to a loud speaker providing music and occasional news, we heard the announcement that King had been assassinated.

I lowered my head in consternation when I heard several comments being made around me, “Look at that.  They have killed him even though he is one of them.”  In Cuban terms, the speaker was pointing out that King was just another American, someone who formed part of the Empire.  I took the opportunity to explain to those around me that King was a martyr, a fighter for racial justice and for the rights of the most humble of people.  I said that he certainly was an American, but that he was not an imperialist.  He belonged to the poor and to those committed to nonviolence.  Moreover not all Americans are imperialists, I said.

by Ken Sehested

        It was an unusual Christmas, to be sure. Our friends in Atlanta got their first snowy Christmas Day since the late 19th century. It’s been more than 40 years since we had a white Christmas here in Asheville. But then, I got notes from friends in Australia and South Africa who mentioned their beach barbecues on Christmas day. In the southern hemisphere this is summer, and none of our cultural hymns about “dreaming of a white Christmas,” or “dashing through the snow on a one-horse open sleigh,” or even one of my favorite Advent hymns, “In the Bleak Midwinter”—none of these work for more than half the world’s landmass.

        We had a wonderful Christmas at our house. All our kinfolk managed to safely dodge the worst of the weather. With 10 people in the house, two of them juiced-up preschoolers, shoveling snow and splitting firewood offered a welcome break from the clamor. Of course, it’s always a special treat to watch youngsters rip open Christmas gifts. And when we finished, our living room floor looked like a bomb had gone off in a Christmas wrapping paper factory.

by Ken Sehested

No single word, in any language, can capture the meaning of the incarnation—of the birth of Jesus and the larger redemptive purposes of God. But of all the words used in Scripture to indicate the purposes of God and the mission of Jesus, “peace” is surely among the most prominent. What follows is a collection of relevant texts.

§ “For every boot of the trampling warrior in battle tumult and every garment rolled in blood will be burned as fuel for the fire. For unto us a child is born . . . and his name will be called ‘Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.’ Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end.” Isaiah 9:5-7

by Ken Sehested

Circle of Mercy Congregation, 13 November 2016
Principal text: Isaiah 65:17-25 • Other lections: Psalm 118; Luke 21:5-19

Ken Sehested
Circle of Mercy, 28 November 2004
Matthew 24:36-44

Background to this sermon. Circle of Mercy Congregation has no indefinite members.
Each year, on the anniversary of our founding, both new and renewing members join
in a covenant reaffirming our vision and mission, on the first Sunday of Advent
(or second, if the first falls on Thanksgiving holiday weekend).
See "Covenant Vows for new and renewing members.")

            One summer, during my college days, I worked with a road construction crew in Waco, Texas. It was some of the hardest work I’ve ever done . . . or, maybe not because the work was so hard, but the working conditions were so severe, when you factor in the hot Central Texas heat, frequently working close to hot asphalt paving equipment. And the constant cloud of dust broiling up from bulldozers and scrapers.