3 min. to read.
I am very excited to let you know that I’ve been invited to write at the OregonLive website. OregonLive is the online publication of the premier Oregon newspaper, The Oregonian. I’ve been invited to contribute as a community spiritual leader. That’s an intimidating invitation. I’m anxious and excited to take up the challenge.
I’ll be continuing to blog here, but the focus of the two outlets will be different. Here I’ll be writing to followers of Jesus and other spiritual seekers who are already committed to seeking spiritual maturity. We’ll be talking about understanding our identity in Christ and practical ways we can lean into the growth God calls us to.
Over at OregonLive I’ll be doing my best to speak to a wider audience. Portland is well-known as one of the most post-Christian cities in the U.S. But that doesn’t mean Oregonians aren’t interested in spiritual things. Just the opposite. There are more Posts (Post-Christian), Nones (Folks who mark “none” when asked by surveys to indicate religious affiliation), and SBNRs (Spiritual-but-not-religious) people here than anywhere I’ve ever been. I’m going to write to them. I don’t know if it will take off, or if there will be any interest, but I’m excited to stretch myself and give it a try.
My hope is that at the very least, I will become a more honest, humble follower of Jesus in the process. And perhaps, along the way, I’ll intrigue and encourage some folks in their own spiritual journey.
Here’s the teaser for the first post:
A couple set out one sunny Pennsylvania afternoon to see the fall leaves, beautiful in their fiery display of yellows, oranges, and reds. The winding two-lane road sped them from suburbia into farmland. Soon, the simple farms, red barns, and occasional horse-drawn wagon announced they’d come to Amish county.
Their conversation turned to these interesting people who set themselves apart in so many ways. Clothes. Hair. The way they avoided the conveniences of modern technology. The wife knew this was a religious sect of some kind, but didn’t know much more.
A fruit stand on the edge of town offered the perfect prize from their day trip, a mason jar of fresh apple butter. As they paid, they asked the elderly Amish farmer running the fruit stand a few questions. Why did all the Amish men have beards? Did they really not ever use electricity? Is Rumspringa a real thing? As they turned to go, they asked one last question. “Are you Christian?”
The elderly man cocked his head, a slight smile forming. His only response: “You’ll have to ask my neighbor.”