My Grandfather, Dr. Paul S. Leinbach, at the White House in 1931, as a Member of the Editorial Council of the Religious Press, Standing Next to President Herbert Hoover (With Glasses and Light-Colored Coat)
“Well, the ‘Social Gospel’ is part of my tradition,” explained the United Church of Christ (UCC) pastor a bit defensively, before adding, “I seek to follow the example of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.”
This muddled word salad was gamely imparted in response to concerns raised about the frequency of woke politics woven into her sermons.
How so muddled? Well, while it’s true that the “tradition” embodied within the UCC does indeed claim the “Social Gospel,” a movement begun roughly 100 years ago, it is a bit of a stretch to assume either Bonhoeffer or King would recognize, much less support, what passes for it today.
A Well-Researched and Engaging History on the Influence of Money in Politics Marred by an Unfortunate (and Wholly Unnecessary) Bias
I learned a great deal from this well-written book about the history of lobbying and the pernicious influence of money in politics. One often hears of its dangers but the authors, Brody and Luke Mullins, help put flesh on the bones. They offer an inside baseball look at the personal lives of several of the most influential lobbyists while helping us to understand the broader implications of their efforts.
Unfortunately, I’m unable to give this a five-star rating. The reason has to do with the authors’ obvious political and social biases, though the book presents as an otherwise objective account of the history of money in U.S. politics.
And while I share the authors’ disdain for the outsized infusion of corporate/Big Business/millionaire-billionaire money into modern-day politics, they seem to go out of their way to take sides. One wonders if this reflects an unconscious “media bubble” mindset or simply their need to maintain street cred among fellow elitist journalists in Manhattan and inside the Beltway.
A Revised and Expanded Version of a Sermon Preached at the South Yarmouth United Methodist Church (MA) on May 12, 2024
In one of the more meaningful and oft-quoted phrases in the Declaration of Independence it reads: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal…”
So, it may surprise you to learn that I don’t believe this. Oh, I absolutely defend the idea that “all men are created equal.” Without question. I just don’t believe it’s “self-evident.” After all, there are many cultures, both past and present, that have rejected this idea out of hand.
Which is to say I agree with Benjamin Franklin who argued against this terminology. His suggestion? “We hold these truths to be sacred and un-deniable…,” wording that properly argues that all men and women are created equal not because it is in any way “self-evident,” but because our Christian faith teaches us it’s so.
Preached at the Congregational Church of South Dennis, MA on February 18, 2024
“When I was a boy of fourteen,” Mark Twain once famously wrote, “my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.”
To be honest, it took me a little longer to figure this out. I was probably about 25 or so.
You see, I thought all the problems of the world, and there were many – the Vietnam War, the assassinations, the race riots and, a bit later, Watergate – were caused solely by my parents’ generation and their ill-management of the world. I, on the other hand, was as pure as the wind-driven snow. I had it all together, so why didn’t the older generations? How could they not see what I saw? How could they have allowed things to get so out of hand? It was inexcusable.
Some years later I read the life story of Thomas Merton, the cloistered monk and renowned Christian author, who had been a brilliant, academically high-achieving young man living a kind of jaundiced, profligate lifestyle. He was cool, detached, worldly, and fashionably cynical – a real sophisticate. He valued aesthetics and big thoughts. And his highly refined critique of society was downright scathing.
Perhaps the New Year is a good time to talk about all things new. Then again, you really don’t have to wait until the beginning of the year to bring it up. In fact, it’s all the rage these days. New! New! New! Change! Change! Change! It just may be the preeminent, culturally approved mantra of our age.
This was made painfully clear to me this past June while attending our younger granddaughter’s high school graduation. With the young “scholars” in robes seated by rows and sporting various messages and images on their caps, every single speaker, be they faculty member or student, focused on just one word: change.
Repeatedly the principal and selected teachers advised the students to be ready for change, to expect change, to thrive in the midst of change. Not to be outdone, each student, including the valedictorian, also droned on and on about…change.
Preached at the Congregational Church of South Dennis, MA on November 19, 2023
One sunny day in January of 1999, Mary Neal died. As she tells it, she was kayaking down the Fuy River in a remote region in southern Chile when her kayak veered off course and she and it were plunged down a steep waterfall.
Worse still, she got wedged under a rock. This combined with the tremendous force of the waterfall rendered her helpless. For a whole 30 minutes she was submerged in 8-10 feet of water. Once her companions finally were able to extricate her, she was long gone.
As you may have guessed, Neal is among the millions of individuals worldwide who claim to have undergone “near-death” or “after-death” experiences.
Curiously, Neal describes her experience underwater as remarkably peaceful, unlike what she had always imagined drowning would be like. There was no room for fear, she says. There she found herself uttering the simple phrase, “Lord, thy will be done,” words she had said many times before, only now she really meant it. Whatever God had in store for her, she was completely open to. Then, she says, her spirit was released to the heavens.
Years ago, while serving my first church, I took part in two “missionary” trips to the Dominican Republic. A local church there had embarked upon a highly ambitious plan to build a hospital for Haitian immigrants working as virtual slaves in the surrounding sugar cane fields. At that time at least, Dominican society discriminated against these workers (many of whom had been brought to the DR against their will) and wouldn’t treat them in their hospitals.
A week or two before the second trip a meeting was arranged for those scheduled to make the trip. It was led by a group of pastors who, being pastors, separated us into small groups to “share” our hopes and expectations for the trip.
At one point we were asked to discuss what we hoped to accomplish. The answers amazed me, though probably shouldn’t have. The sentiments expressed struck me as utterly grandiose, as if this small American church group alone was going to save the world.
Some years ago I heard a radio interview with one of my favorite Christian writers, the late Fred Buechner. The occasion was the release of his newest book, a collection of sermons.
At the time he’d long since retired. Thus, at one point, the interviewer asked him where he’d been attending church. His answer stunned me. In fact, I thought it sacrilegious. It diminished him in my eyes. He said he didn’t go to church.
When asked why, he explained, in effect, that none of the churches he’d attended seemed to get it. None struck him as particularly relevant or engaging. It was mostly meaningless blather (my words, not his).
A Sermon Preached at the First Congregational Church in Wellfleet, MA on September 17, 2023
Not many know this, but Linda and I attended the royal wedding. I even officiated, actually. Oh, I’m not talking about the one in London a few years back with Meghan and Harry, No, this was my niece’s wedding a few weeks ago in California.
It was quite the affair, a four-day extravaganza involving multiple hotel gatherings on consecutive nights as well as, naturally enough, the coup de grâce: the glorious pageant – I mean, the actual wedding ceremony itself.
The outdoor venue, high above the Pacific, offered a bird’s eye view of the Los Angeles coastline, facing north toward Malibu and the Hollywood Hills in the distance. Naturally, everyone was dressed to the nines. Except for me. I stuck out like a skunk at a picnic, wearing my black robe amidst women with slinky, low-cut dresses and men with aviator sunglasses and penny loafers without socks. What can I say? It was very L.A.
Peter’s an interesting guy. At one time he was a member of Bermuda’s America’s Cup sailing team. He also was a friend of Teddy Tucker, the legendary treasure hunter who discovered over 100 shipwrecks in the waters surrounding that beautiful isle, including his most famous find, the “Tucker Cross,” an emerald studded 22-karat gold religious artifact recovered from the San Pedro, a Spanish galleon lost on Bermuda’s reefs in 1594.
Peter is also our favorite taxi driver. Whenever we visit the island (a place that holds special meaning to me given that my parents met there in 1946 and also because Linda and I honeymooned there), we make every effort to arrange his services.
Peter is a veritable encyclopedia when it comes to Bermuda. And a real raconteur. He knows every inch of the island and is highly conversant in politics, the economy, and local scuttlebutt. He’s also a lot of fun. Plus, he takes us where we want to go!
