I love the way Doug Hibbard labels the roofing materials needed for a church replant, stout, and he’s not talking about how sturdy or durable they are. He means the cost. Tippling Calvinists probably drool when running across this word but there’s nothing about beer in this one. Doug’s use is so thoroughly southern here that it’s not in many of the dictionaries. Nothing new there. The rest of the country is always trying to catch up with southern-speak.
Dave Miller, taking a break from planning a splendid pastor’s conference, blogs that “The detritus of a forced Moore termination would be thermonuclear.” I get the movie theme and I like the word but would respectfully decline the estimate of the level of destruction.
Jim Perry is no lover of Concord grape jelly, we learned this week. PB&J-loving preschoolers are unliking Jim by the hundreds. But perhaps he would like to see some concord amongst us SBC tribalists, as in rapprochement. So would I, but I suspect that to do so we may have to overlook pedantic comments. After all, most of us parsons are habitual pendants.
The estimable Tarheel writes, “Perhaps it time for Dr. Graham and Prestonwood BC to abjure the tactics of intimation that they have employed??” I’m with you, bro. An abject abjuration would be nice but I don’t think it’s in the mega DNA to do that.
One writer laments “the fact is that the weekly hour of Bible didaction is hardly the time-honored tradition that it used to be.” He assails the label “Sunday School,” a “remnant of a bygone era.” Indeed. Sadly we often treat church members as if they are all autodidacts concerning the Bible, preferring the latest cutesy and faddish subjects rather than Bible and doctrine.
Anonymous commenters label one writer a jingoist who offers tirades. Sadly, not a few SBCers are jingoists, a poor substitute for one who proclaims the words of God, but I’m not so concerned about tirades. Every Baptist preacher ought to be stirred up for an occasional tirade.
Any article whose first sentence is, “In my mind pastors are fat” looks like it’s worth reading to me. Deep inside, author Griffin Gulledge gets around to dysmorphic. It might be a bit of self-disclosure but dys- anything (dysfunctional, dyspepsia, dysphemism, etc.) is like a magnet to me. Total depravity, I suppose.
Perhaps we need a break from all ERLC all of the time. It’s nearly three months until the annual meeting.
