Stories

They said we needed a new pastor. Said it like you’d say the sanctuary needed repainting or the coffee in the fellowship hall needed stronger grounds. But no, what we really needed was a spiritual miracle wrapped in a business plan, a degree from a seminary with Latin inscriptions, and […]Read more »

I arrived at the interdenominational bake-off fully convinced it would be the peaceful equivalent of Isaiah’s vision of the wolf lying down with the lamb—except with frosting. Instead, it turned out to be closer to the Book of Judges, only with Bundt cakes and buttercream The Baptists came first, lugging […]Read more »

It all started with a snare drum. Or maybe it was the electric guitar—nobody can really remember anymore. What we do remember is that Brother Harold, clutching his weathered copy of The Old Rugged Cross, declared that the new “praise team” had introduced sounds that could only be described as […]Read more »

I had no intention of becoming a martyr for free speech. My great crime was not burning a flag, not storming the Capitol, not even forgetting to tithe—no, my heinous offense was reading Romans 12:14–21 in public. Imagine that. I might as well have recited the lyrics to “It’s a […]Read more »