ONE Sabbath
October 5th, 2007
As ONE members, we care. We care about the child orphaned by HIV/AIDS. We care about the village that lacks access to clean water. And we care about the millions of people throughout the developing world who will go to bed hungry tonight. For many of us, that caring is borne of our faith.
Last week, the ONE campaign asked students to take action on our challenge: to make poverty history. Now, ONE is reaching out to people of faith and engaging traditions that say that when you spend yourselves on behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness. (Isaiah 58:10)
We all have a finite amount of purity—innocence lost. Every time we are intimate we give some away. Like the force George Lucas shows us in the Star Wars universe, our actions effect who we are. We do something good, we shift ever so slightly to the light. And the reverse is also true. Whether it is Anakin slaying a village of sand people or going too far on a first date, our actions have consequences.
I just had a grapefruit. The saying goes: the devil is in the details, but I tell you, God is in the details. Fast food, processed food, is killing me. Every day, I need to eat lunch. Every day the fast food corporations try and provide that food — and they are killing us. 
Another Thanksgiving holiday passes us by and I’m reminded by just how much we have to be thankful for. So much earth-shaking, world-changing events have transpired, just in the last year. It’s often hard to take it all in–and still care. Yet amongst all this, that’s exactly what we have to do, to keep being the people we are. 
I can’t take my eyes off of the television and the deteriorating war zone that is New Orleans, La., and coastal Mississippi. The sheer human suffering. The hopelessness. The desperation. And I can’t believe it’s our own country. It looks like the places far away, the towns and villages and countries to which we send our aid. And yet it’s not. It’s us. It’s our people. It’s our citizens, our brothers and sisters. They are Americans. They are hurting. They are completely divorced from anything resembling quality of life.
Media coverage of Katrina and her aftermath is simply beyond my ability to comprehend. We see image upon image of destruction on a scale I could never have imagined. Our thoughts and prayers, indeed the nations, rest upon all the people of the Gulf region. 
Recently, a few weeks after my father Frank’s passing, I spent time with my mother Flora going through some of his things. He didn’t leave much behind, being a simple man with simple tastes. There were a few clothes; some medals from World War II; a few service pins; several books; a 1980 appointment calendar in which he had scribbled dozens of motivational sayings; and a strange piece of metal we found lying in a drawer. My mom gasped when she picked up the metal bar, thick and laden with screws. “Look at this,” she said. “What is it?” I inquired. She proceeded to remind me how, as an infant, I’d had some kind of problem with my legs. They were crooked or bow-legged or something of the sort. I’d worn these special braces for a while so they would eventually straighten themselves out. 
I recently received an email. In it was a petition, written to President Bush, calling for the reinstatement of prayer in schools. With 1557 names on it, it asked users to forward it on when it reached 2000. I’m sure that happened soon and was diligently delivered. But I’m afraid that the good intentions of the originator is misplaced.
I’ve just returned home from being engulfed by the dark cinematic masterpiece that is Star Wars, Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. It has much to teach the observant eye—those who are “mindful of their feelings”—about the ongoing wrestling match between human passion and spiritual abandonment.
A recent message circulated throughout the internet shows us, “A Sign From God After a Florida Hurricane”. Now normally my spam filter would keep me from ever seeing this, but for some reason, this one caught my eye. 
May 5th, 2005 is the National Day of Prayer. Connect locally and be a part of this awesome event. The National Day of Prayer was created by an act of Congress and is, therefore, intended for all peoples of faith to pray to the God of their understanding. However, our expression of that involvement is specifically limited to the Judeo-Christian heritage and those who share that conviction as expressed in the Lausanne Convenant. If peoples of other faiths wish to celebrate in their own tradition, they are welcome to do so, but we must be true to those who have supported this effort and volunteered their time to promote it. National Day of Prayer is not a function of the government and, therefore, a particular expression of it can be defined by those who choose to organize it. This is not a church/state issue.
With eyes red and tears flowing from Jake’s mom she blurted, “Thank you so much Jason! My son is just not the same. The other night my ex-husband and I were violently screaming at each other. Jake, would normally begin physically fighting with my ex, instead jumped between us and told me that we just can’t go that route anymore”.
As I write, the television, beaming non-stop coverage of Pope John Paul II’s rapidly deteriorating condition, has just reported his long expected death. All of the major television and cable networks and then some are broadcasting interviews, reflections, commentaries, pontifications and so forth, on the life of this fine man and the impact he has had on the Catholic Church and the world.
A landmark piece of literature that transcends all trends of the liberal arts is The Brothers Karamazov, by Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Penned in pre-Bolshevik, Czarist Russia, this masterpiece encompasses every struggle and triumph of the human race. It is a virtual panorama of the best and worst of the inner and outward nature that expresses and exposes who we are upon this fragile earth, and what motivates us.
Three percent of Florida’s population is currently enrolled in college. 
Published in the Spring 2005 issue of “Stillpoint” by Gordon College. 
I usually have some kind of spiritually oriented book nearby: at my bedside, with me at the gym, in my briefcase while traveling for business. I seem to possess a lifelong need to fill the soul, to add wisdom, to feed the spirit that hungers for deeper dimensions of truth.
MOPS stands for Mothers of Preschoolers. It is an international organization with a mission of helping mothers understand and fulfill the philosophy “Because Mothering Matters.” 
Every day, thousands of individuals and families from every walk of life are taught how to become free from the bondage of debt, financial stress, and the effects of bad money decisions.
About nine months ago Sharon Jones, Christian Counselor, gathered the pastors of Holy Trinity Episcopal, First Christian and First United Methodist Church. She had a vision to share with the pastors of these three downtown Melbourne churches in hopes that they would catch the vision with her, join forces and make a difference. She had been reading and learning about Parish Nursing programs that give room for churches to not only focus on people’s spiritual needs, but also their physical needs. Believing in a connection between the spirit, mind and body, the three pastors, jumped on board and a collaboration was begun. 
