“I’m just the pastor. This congregation rocks!”
That’s the outlook of Kirk Perucca, pastor at Covenant Presbyterian Church. This small, ethnically diverse congregation south of downtown Kansas City, Missouri, has been a Presbyterian Hunger Program Certified Hunger Action Congregation since 2017, but has been advocating hunger, fairness and justice issues for most of its 110-year-plus existence.
To celebrate his 95th birthday on July 31, Bob Abrams went on a glider flight.
That’s nothing new. Abrams began taking regular glider flights when he celebrated his 80th birthday and has only missed one birthday flight since. “At the time, I figured I’d better get started or I’d never get around to it,” Abrams said with his characteristic wide grin. “As a kid I was always making paper gliders or playing with balsa ones, so I just kind of settled on the real thing.”
Only 33 percent of members and 22 percent of ministers strongly agree that their church is spiritually vital and alive, according to a recently released research report by the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). But what does it mean for a congregation to be vital and alive?
When it comes to Christian education, Maria Harris stands out as one of the most influential teachers and writers of the past 30 years. In her 1989 book Fashion Me a People: Curriculum in the Church, Harris helped shape a theology of educational ministry in the church that understands “The Word continually becoming flesh, in us.” If the Word is perpetually at work in us, then by our ordinary, everyday, walking-around lives, all of us are de facto Christian educators. Curriculum may include printed materials and classroom instruction, but an incarnational “curriculum” resides in our life together where we embrace every member as a teacher to every other member — regardless of our age or ability.
Seventeen years ago, our nation was stunned by attacks that took place against thousands of innocent souls. People of all economic classes, educational attainment, races, genders, countries of origin, religions and nearly any other discriminator we can identify were senselessly wounded and killed. Our nation has been at war since that day with many millions affected by the aftermath of what we now call 9/11.
Desmond Tutu, the retired Anglican archbishop of Cape Town, says, “Do your little bit of good where you are; it’s those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.”
It was just another Sunday morning in the Cornhusker State. The faithful entered Southern Heights Presbyterian’s sanctuary, filling the room with chatter before the start of worship. The bell chimed and the chattering — as well as the rustling of coats, worship bulletins and those marking the hymns for the day — subsided. The Christ candle was solemnly lit, leaving a flickering flame to aid in prayerful contemplation. The prelude broke the silence. It was time to stand for the Call to Worship. Now sit for the Confession. And back up again for the singing of the Gloria Patri.
