October 7 is the birthday of Desmond Tutu, born in Klerksdorp, South Africa, in 1931. For his leadership in opposing apartheid in South Africa, he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1984; two years later, he was elected to be the first black archbishop of Cape Town, the head of the country’s Anglican Church. In 1995, President Nelson Mandela appointed Tutu to lead the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, investigating apartheid-era human rights abuses.
Tutu said: “When the missionaries came to Africa they had the Bible and we had the land. They said, ‘Let us pray.’ We closed our eyes. When we opened them, we had the Bible and they had the land.”
And again: “How does peace come? Peace doesn’t come because allies agree. Allies are allies — they already agree! Peace comes when you talk to the person you most hate. And that’s where the courage of a leader comes.”
Church Father Augustine of Hippo wrote, “The times are bad! The times are troublesome! This is what humans say. But we are our times. Let us live well and our times will be good. such as we are, such are our times.”
Lord, grant that our actions hold a mirror to our prayers. Amen.
When the world teaches us to divide and demonize, keep us human. When rhetoric turns violent and fear becomes law, keep us courageous. When those we love are swept up in lies, keep us grounded in truth, compassionate in our resistance, and faithful to the work of repair.
Remind us: We are not enemies. We are kin. And your image lives in us all.
You who shaped the cliffs and whispered life into lavender, remind us that we, too, are your handiwork— not separate from creation, but made of the same sacred dust. Soften our hearts. Slow our pace. Teach us to bow before beauty and to live in harmony with the song the earth has been singing all along. May wonder be our teacher and gratitude our way of life.
The priest from Burnley remembers weekends away, instant coffee, cheap pastries, voices saying the Bible was flawless.
Later, at college, no one pressed it. They just said, something like, “God’s Word. Trust it.” He wanted to. He still does. But Burnley interrupts.
This morning— he buried an addict. Rain sideways, cassock soaked, coffin lid streaming. A few mates hung back, hands in pockets, muttering, “He was sound, really. Just couldn’t shake it.” The priest said words of resurrection. They felt thin. Wallpaper over rot.
By afternoon he sat in a council flat, smell of damp, last night’s frying pan. A woman spread letters, arrears, red ink, threats of eviction. Her voice cracked. She hadn’t told the kids. She feared the knock at the door. He nodded, sipped cold tea, and stayed silent. The psalm caught in his throat.
On the bus home he opened his Bible. Psalm 121.
‘He will not let your foot slip.’ But the lad in the ground had slipped.
‘The Lord will watch over your life.’ But the woman was drowning in debt.
Are these words true? Yes—because they ache to be. No—because Burnley says otherwise.
Back home, a Christian channel blared: white teeth, bright eyes. “Trust Jesus! All will be well!” The priest almost laughed. Almost wept. It felt obscene. Like hymns at a house fire.
He closed his eyes. Spoke back to the psalm.
“You say You don’t sleep. But I feel storm-tossed. And Jesus snores in the stern.”
What if God isn’t in control? Not the puppeteer Piper promised. What if God looks like Jesus— wounded, breakable, here among addicts, debts, despair? And what if Jesus is asleep?
His prayer is guttural, not polite: Wake up, Jesus. Wake up.
Maybe this is faith— not certainty, but refusal to quit. The psalms as sparring partners, not rulebooks. Ordination vows colliding with disorientation.
At the end of the day he scribbles it into a poem. Faith-filled doubt. Doubting faith. Words that won’t make the pulpit. But maybe keep him human.
East of Eden. Hope is not glossy. Not triumphant. It is a soaked cassock at a grave. A cold cup of tea in a flat. A prayer on a rattling bus. A whisper in the storm: Wake up, Jesus. Wake up.
October 1 is also the birthday of Jimmy Carter, born in Plains, Georgia, in 1924. A successful peanut farmer, he got interested in politics after refusing to join a citizens’ group that opposed the racial integration of schools. After serving as governor of Georgia, he eventually became the 39th president of the United States. Most Sundays of his adult life, he has taught Sunday school at his American Baptist Church. Carter once said: “A strong nation, like a strong person, can afford to be gentle, firm, thoughtful, and restrained. It can afford to extend a helping hand to others. It is a weak nation, like a weak person, that must behave with bluster and boasting and rashness and other signs of insecurity.”
Clarence Jordan, one of Koinonia’s co-founders once said,: “Behold a tree. Does it not speak to us thusly: ‘Don’t you see that God is not working Himself into a frenzy in me? I am calmly, quietly, silently pouring forth my life and bringing forth fruit. Do thou likewise.’”
Ignacio Ellacuria, a Jesuit martyr of San Salvador, asked, “What is it to be a companion of Jesus today? It is to engage, under the standard of the cross, in the crucial struggle of our time: the struggle for faith and that struggle for justice which it includes.”
Lord, enable us to live so that others can truly say, “They engaged in the crucial struggle of our time.”
Romans 12:1 in the Message translation reads: “So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering.
All of our life can indeed be lived in worship and praise of our creator. Even in the mundane. Even then.
You ever want to belt out in song with 18,000 others – get yourself a ticket to an outdoor concert venue and have at it. You can’t help but feel some joy with all the singing and dancing.
Our daughter Koko has asked to go to a Thomas Rhett concert forever. Last year’s main Christmas present was 2 tickets for this September event. We traveled down to Vancouver and ate at the new In and Out Burger (all of Washington was there) – and then hit the Clark County Fairgrounds for his concert.
The concert had two openers and both were awesome. The Castellows (awesome voices) and Tucker Wetmore (originally from Kalama, Wa.)(an awesome entertainer)
The crowd was good and fired up for Thomas Rhett. He too has an adopted daughter – she is from Uganda. They have added 3 others with another to be born in March. Koko has loved hearing him tell his story through his music. Who knew our Ethiopian daughter would grow to love country music? She now owns some bright pink boots which she is proud to wear. We sang and danced the night away. We pulled into our driveway at 2 am still energized by all we saw and heard. May we keep singing and dancing our way through this life together!
Johnson 2025 Sabbatical 