A Light In The Darkness
Stories
Object:
What's Up This Week
"A Light In The Darkness" by Alex Gondola
"A Light That Shines Around The World" by Alex Gondola
"Vacation of a Lifetime" by Timothy Smith "The Bethlehem Conundrum" by Scott Dalgarno
What's Up This Week
There is a reason why light is such a popular image in the Bible. Without light, there can be no life. As we move into Epiphany, we continue to celebrate Jesus, the Light of the World, as he is baptized and begins his earthly ministry of spreading the light of life in a dark world. Alex Gondola explores the image of light in "A Light In The Darkness." He also marks how the light of Christ has spread throughout the world over the years in "A Light That Shines Around The World." Timothy Smith offers us a glimpse of how we as Christians can bring light into dark times in "Vacation of a Lifetime." In "The Bethlehem Conundrum," Scott Dalgarno casts a new light on the story of King Herod and the magi after visiting modern Bethlehem.
* * * * * * * * *
A Light In The Darkness
Alex Gondola
Isaiah 60:1-6
The Ohio Caverns are located in West Liberty, Ohio, about an hour from our home. It's a great destination that we've visited several times. These caverns were first discovered in 1897, and they have been drawing tourists for more than a hundred years. About 50,000 visitors pass through annually, taking a forty-five minute tour on a mile-long circuit more than one hundred feet underground. The caverns offer visitors many delights. There is the Crystal King, the largest free-hanging stalactite in Ohio. It's nearly four feet long, and is estimated to weigh over four hundred pounds and to be 200,000 years old. The Big Room, at over half an acre, holds hundreds of stalactite and stalagmite formations. The Jewel room sparkles from iron oxide and manganese dioxide deposits. There is the Crystal Sea and the Natural Bridge. All these attractions are lit carefully in ways that highlight their beauty. However, one of the most impressive parts of the tour is the "lights out." At one point, the guide flicks off all the electric lights, and visitors are plunged into total darkness. Since no natural light can get down into the caverns, the darkness so thick you almost can cut it. After a few seconds, the guide turns on a conventional flashlight, but shields it with a hand. This is a reminder of how the caverns must have looked when they first were discovered more than a century earlier, since the first explorers only had flickering torches or lanterns to guide them. The lights-out experience is always impressive (someone on the tour inevitably gasps!). It is also is a reminder to me of this passage from Isaiah; and of the light/dark imagery surrounding Jesus' birth, as well as the Epiphany that followed. Sometimes, as Isaiah puts it, darkness does cover the earth, and a thick darkness the peoples. But even a little bit of light will dispel the darkness. As the prelude to the Gospel of John puts it, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it." In Jesus Christ, the "true light, which enlightens everyone" has come into the world. Just as Isaiah prophesied, nations have come to this light, and kings to the brightness of its dawn. At Epiphany, we remember not only the magi who followed the star to find the Light of the World. We also remember the light of God's love and grace shines in our lives, with the same darkness-dispelling power as that flashlight in the caverns. So the angels' message, offered several times in the Christmas story, to Mary, Joseph and the shepherds, is also for us. Even in the deepest darkness, "Be not afraid!"
A Light That Shines Around The World
Alex Gondola
Isaiah 60:1-6
Some years ago my wife Bonnie and I were on a Pacific cruise. Our ship landed at a rather out-of-the-way place, Fanning Island in the Republic of Kiribati. We spent a great day there, nearly on the Equator, a thousand miles from the nearest population center, which was Hawaii. About 1,400 people live on this small atoll. Almost all of the residents live in grass huts, up on stilts, which they build out of palm leaves, woven with readily available sticks and rope made from strips of bark. If their roof got a leak, they just cut a new palm branch to fix it! There were no paved roads on the island, almost no cars and no electric utilities--although a few residents had generators. The only commercial enterprises we saw were tiny, one-room "convenience stores" that sold soft drinks and small items like needles, thread and buttons to the locals. There was a health clinic and an open-air school. One of the fascinating moments for me was watching two small boys fishing for their family's supper. Within a short time they caught a whole string of fish, and brought them proudly home. Some might say the residents of Fanning Island didn't have a lot. But what they did have a lot of was churches! There was at least one large Roman Catholic parish, and Protestant churches from a number of different denominations. Obviously the church was an important part of these people's lives. As the Prophet promised, "Nations shall come to (God's) light." Even in one of the more remote places on our planet, the light of Christ is shining brightly! "Lift up your eyes and look around." The good news about Jesus Christ is everywhere!
Alex Gondola is Senior Pastor of St. Paul United Church of Christ in Wapakoneta, Ohio. He is the author of four books, all published by CSS Publishing Company, as well as numerous articles in clergy journals.
Vacation of a Lifetime
Timothy Smith
Matthew 2:1-12
Phil and Paula, along with their four young children, planned a two-week vacation in the western states. Their plan was to fly to Denver and then rent a car and drive through the Rocky Mountains. As their vacation date approached the entire family was excited. This would be their first visit out west. They would have two full weeks to enjoy the sights without worrying about the hassles of their jobs. It would be wonderful.
When they arrived in Denver, they were so happy. The older children stood taking pictures of the distant mountains while the young children took pictures of just about everything else. They had made plans but did not want to be on a tight schedule so they could enjoy themselves.
Something unexpected happened on Saturday afternoon. As they were driving on a deserted section of the highway, they hit a deer. Fortunately no one was hurt but the rental car could no longer be driven. By this time they were close to five hundred miles from where they rented the car. They were stranded for several hours in the middle of nowhere, Paula explains. When help finally arrived it was late in the afternoon, so they checked into a motel in the nearby town. Paula called the toll free number of the car rental agency to inform them what had happened, hoping they would be able to get another car the next day so they could continue their vacation. Nothing like this had ever happened to them and they hoped the car rental company would be able to help them.
The next morning, Sunday morning, Phil told Paula that he and the children were going to church. When they were home they attended church every week. Faith played an important role for this family. Paula said she would stay in the motel room and try again to call the insurance company and the car rental agency. She did not know what they would do if they could not get help.
Phil and the kids discovered something at the church they had not anticipated. People from the church cared about them even though they had never met them before. Phil explained what had happened and how they were stranded without a car. The people in that church showed love and concern for them. One family invited them to Sunday dinner. Another family offered them the use of their fully equipped van for the day. The man handed Phil the keys. He said there was a state park sixty miles away that would be great for them to visit. "You go and enjoy yourself," he said smiling.
Paula could hardly believe it. She had spent an hour with no luck trying to get help from the car rental company, which left her frustrated. Meanwhile her husband and children went to church only to discover people who cared about them. They were total strangers and they were offered the use of a van. Paula wondered how they knew they would return with the van. This was a lesson in faith and trust that Phil and Paula would not forget. God was with them on their journey.
(Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit, Series II, Cycle A [Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Co., Inc., 1998], pp. 27-28.)
The Bethlehem Conundrum
Scott Dalgarno
Matthew 2:1-12
In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem, wise men from the east came to Jerusalem asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews."
-- Matthew 2:1-12
Letís see, whatís a magi? Are these wise men, or astrologers or kings? This is the Bethlehem conundrum.
Well, the real Bethlehem conundrum is the subterfuge of King Herod posing as someone anxious to bow down and worship the Christ Child. The wise kings travel untold leagues to visit the baby, and Herod wonít travel eight miles down the Bethlehem road before lunch to take a look for himself. And we know what heís driven by, donít we? Itís certainly not devotion.
Right here, in the heart of Matthewís Christmas story, is a jealous king plotting a murder. What happened to the peace of "Silent Night"?
Eight Februarys ago, I had the incredible fortune to travel to Israel. I remember so well our visit to Bethlehem, what Isaiah the prophet called the city of David. That day, before tensions between Israelis and Palestinians began to rise, one could still imagine an impossibly young Palestinian girl, literally filled with holy purpose, astride a donkey going down that little townís one main street looking desperately, by starlight, for "the" (singular) Inn. Our own visit seemed anything but momentous. We took our time to examine the stones of the floor of the original church planted there under the direction of Constantineís devout mother, St. Helena.
We then made our way down below the central altar to the first century grotto where the baby was supposed to have been born. I remember being moved most by the humble cell, there still, where St. Jerome translated the Vulgate, just a few feet away from the scene of the original manger. How remarkable for one like him to work and worship there daily, hourly, minute by minute. It must have been like living in the middle of a meditation. How powerful, but nothing prepared me for what I met upon coming back up to the level of the modern church.
Rapidly lengthening shadows eclipsed the intense sunlight that only a moment before had been streaming through the rear doors. This was followed by the sound of dozens of swift steps on stone. A score, then two, of figures, all in black, entered the church followed by four men carrying what looked like a very plane wooden coffin. The sound of it being placed down on the limestone floor before the altar was startling, deep and dry. This was definitely no museum of the nativity. Though there were thirty or more of us milling about the place, the worshipers, obviously moved by this oneís passing, ignored us completely. No doubt about it, this was every bit a living church; a faithful, tight (albeit ancient) Christian community very much in mourning.
Feeling terribly obtrusive, I wanted to just disappear; yet, I was transfixed. How perfect, I thought. The integrity of the church at Bethlehem, one of the oldest churches in Christendom, was this minute clear for anyone with eyes to see. Here, two thousand years along, this ancient shrine so faithfully served to shelter the celebration of a Christianís death. Within minutes, the service was over, and, just as swiftly, the mourners hurried out, on their way, no doubt, to the local cemetery to tuck away this loved one.
How ironic. We had come in search of one thing and found something utterly, profoundly different. Bethlehem, the place of Christís birth, had given us a glimpse of what a truly holy death should look like. And by attending to the tenderness and honor attached to that anonymous Palestinianís death we had come more deeply to appreciate the holy birth of the most famous human being in our planetís history, someone pilgrims have journeyed to Bethlehem to honor for some eighteen hundred years.
A holy birth and a holy death; what are they separated by? A few steps. A few holy steps. But looking in at Matthewís version of the nativity -- itís not strange at all. Christmas is barely five days gone and here, in this gospel, just twelve verses past the nativity is the insertion of the story of King Herodís massacre of the boy babies in Bethlehem.
King Herod "The Great" threatened by talk of a new king, will order the killing of all the boy babies around the little town. Down through the ages innumerable kings and dictators have order the massacre of Jewish children. Itís an old story, and is so in contrast with "O Little Town of Bethlehem, how still we see they lie." Still in death, maybe.
So, Matthewís Christmas pageant will end not with tinsel covered angels proclaiming goodwill, but Rachel weeping for her slaughtered children. Christmas in Bethlehem, the real Bethlehem.
Herod was no fool. He had been in power long enough to be able to tell a rival when he saw one. What dirty shepherds saw as a baby, a distant relative of King David, Herod knew as a threat to everything on which his kingdom was based.
So Herod joins all the other leaders of our age, Hitler, Pol Pot, Stalin, Mao, Milosevic (and perhaps Musharraf?); men who didnít mind a little murder in order to advance their political ideals, however evil or wrong-headed.
The magi in T.S. Eliotís poem, "Journey of the Magi," ask, "weíre we led all that way for Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly. We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death, but had thought they were different; this birth was hard and bitter agony for us, like death, our death. We returned to our places, these Kingdoms, but no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation, with an alien people clutching their gods."[1]
So it is for all men and women who find the new kingdom of Jesus wearying. But I sense that the old magi went back to their homes feeling more like Simeon in Lukeís wonderful after-Christmas story, happy to have been granted long enough life to recognize real hope when they saw it in the face.
[1] T.S. Eliot, Collected Poems, 1909-1962 (San Diego, California: Harcourt Trade Publishers, 1991) pp. 99-100.
Scott Dalgarno is pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Ashland, Oregon. He is also an adjunct professor at Southern Oregon University, where he teaches Film and Ethics. His poetry, essays, and stories have appeared in numerous publications, including The Christian Century, America: The National Catholic Weekly, The Antioch Review, and Alive Now.
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply email the story to us at storyshare@sermonsuite.com.
**************
StoryShare, January 6, 2008, issue.
Copyright 2008 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
"A Light In The Darkness" by Alex Gondola
"A Light That Shines Around The World" by Alex Gondola
"Vacation of a Lifetime" by Timothy Smith "The Bethlehem Conundrum" by Scott Dalgarno
What's Up This Week
There is a reason why light is such a popular image in the Bible. Without light, there can be no life. As we move into Epiphany, we continue to celebrate Jesus, the Light of the World, as he is baptized and begins his earthly ministry of spreading the light of life in a dark world. Alex Gondola explores the image of light in "A Light In The Darkness." He also marks how the light of Christ has spread throughout the world over the years in "A Light That Shines Around The World." Timothy Smith offers us a glimpse of how we as Christians can bring light into dark times in "Vacation of a Lifetime." In "The Bethlehem Conundrum," Scott Dalgarno casts a new light on the story of King Herod and the magi after visiting modern Bethlehem.
* * * * * * * * *
A Light In The Darkness
Alex Gondola
Isaiah 60:1-6
The Ohio Caverns are located in West Liberty, Ohio, about an hour from our home. It's a great destination that we've visited several times. These caverns were first discovered in 1897, and they have been drawing tourists for more than a hundred years. About 50,000 visitors pass through annually, taking a forty-five minute tour on a mile-long circuit more than one hundred feet underground. The caverns offer visitors many delights. There is the Crystal King, the largest free-hanging stalactite in Ohio. It's nearly four feet long, and is estimated to weigh over four hundred pounds and to be 200,000 years old. The Big Room, at over half an acre, holds hundreds of stalactite and stalagmite formations. The Jewel room sparkles from iron oxide and manganese dioxide deposits. There is the Crystal Sea and the Natural Bridge. All these attractions are lit carefully in ways that highlight their beauty. However, one of the most impressive parts of the tour is the "lights out." At one point, the guide flicks off all the electric lights, and visitors are plunged into total darkness. Since no natural light can get down into the caverns, the darkness so thick you almost can cut it. After a few seconds, the guide turns on a conventional flashlight, but shields it with a hand. This is a reminder of how the caverns must have looked when they first were discovered more than a century earlier, since the first explorers only had flickering torches or lanterns to guide them. The lights-out experience is always impressive (someone on the tour inevitably gasps!). It is also is a reminder to me of this passage from Isaiah; and of the light/dark imagery surrounding Jesus' birth, as well as the Epiphany that followed. Sometimes, as Isaiah puts it, darkness does cover the earth, and a thick darkness the peoples. But even a little bit of light will dispel the darkness. As the prelude to the Gospel of John puts it, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it." In Jesus Christ, the "true light, which enlightens everyone" has come into the world. Just as Isaiah prophesied, nations have come to this light, and kings to the brightness of its dawn. At Epiphany, we remember not only the magi who followed the star to find the Light of the World. We also remember the light of God's love and grace shines in our lives, with the same darkness-dispelling power as that flashlight in the caverns. So the angels' message, offered several times in the Christmas story, to Mary, Joseph and the shepherds, is also for us. Even in the deepest darkness, "Be not afraid!"
A Light That Shines Around The World
Alex Gondola
Isaiah 60:1-6
Some years ago my wife Bonnie and I were on a Pacific cruise. Our ship landed at a rather out-of-the-way place, Fanning Island in the Republic of Kiribati. We spent a great day there, nearly on the Equator, a thousand miles from the nearest population center, which was Hawaii. About 1,400 people live on this small atoll. Almost all of the residents live in grass huts, up on stilts, which they build out of palm leaves, woven with readily available sticks and rope made from strips of bark. If their roof got a leak, they just cut a new palm branch to fix it! There were no paved roads on the island, almost no cars and no electric utilities--although a few residents had generators. The only commercial enterprises we saw were tiny, one-room "convenience stores" that sold soft drinks and small items like needles, thread and buttons to the locals. There was a health clinic and an open-air school. One of the fascinating moments for me was watching two small boys fishing for their family's supper. Within a short time they caught a whole string of fish, and brought them proudly home. Some might say the residents of Fanning Island didn't have a lot. But what they did have a lot of was churches! There was at least one large Roman Catholic parish, and Protestant churches from a number of different denominations. Obviously the church was an important part of these people's lives. As the Prophet promised, "Nations shall come to (God's) light." Even in one of the more remote places on our planet, the light of Christ is shining brightly! "Lift up your eyes and look around." The good news about Jesus Christ is everywhere!
Alex Gondola is Senior Pastor of St. Paul United Church of Christ in Wapakoneta, Ohio. He is the author of four books, all published by CSS Publishing Company, as well as numerous articles in clergy journals.
Vacation of a Lifetime
Timothy Smith
Matthew 2:1-12
Phil and Paula, along with their four young children, planned a two-week vacation in the western states. Their plan was to fly to Denver and then rent a car and drive through the Rocky Mountains. As their vacation date approached the entire family was excited. This would be their first visit out west. They would have two full weeks to enjoy the sights without worrying about the hassles of their jobs. It would be wonderful.
When they arrived in Denver, they were so happy. The older children stood taking pictures of the distant mountains while the young children took pictures of just about everything else. They had made plans but did not want to be on a tight schedule so they could enjoy themselves.
Something unexpected happened on Saturday afternoon. As they were driving on a deserted section of the highway, they hit a deer. Fortunately no one was hurt but the rental car could no longer be driven. By this time they were close to five hundred miles from where they rented the car. They were stranded for several hours in the middle of nowhere, Paula explains. When help finally arrived it was late in the afternoon, so they checked into a motel in the nearby town. Paula called the toll free number of the car rental agency to inform them what had happened, hoping they would be able to get another car the next day so they could continue their vacation. Nothing like this had ever happened to them and they hoped the car rental company would be able to help them.
The next morning, Sunday morning, Phil told Paula that he and the children were going to church. When they were home they attended church every week. Faith played an important role for this family. Paula said she would stay in the motel room and try again to call the insurance company and the car rental agency. She did not know what they would do if they could not get help.
Phil and the kids discovered something at the church they had not anticipated. People from the church cared about them even though they had never met them before. Phil explained what had happened and how they were stranded without a car. The people in that church showed love and concern for them. One family invited them to Sunday dinner. Another family offered them the use of their fully equipped van for the day. The man handed Phil the keys. He said there was a state park sixty miles away that would be great for them to visit. "You go and enjoy yourself," he said smiling.
Paula could hardly believe it. She had spent an hour with no luck trying to get help from the car rental company, which left her frustrated. Meanwhile her husband and children went to church only to discover people who cared about them. They were total strangers and they were offered the use of a van. Paula wondered how they knew they would return with the van. This was a lesson in faith and trust that Phil and Paula would not forget. God was with them on their journey.
(Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit, Series II, Cycle A [Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Co., Inc., 1998], pp. 27-28.)
The Bethlehem Conundrum
Scott Dalgarno
Matthew 2:1-12
In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem, wise men from the east came to Jerusalem asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews."
-- Matthew 2:1-12
Letís see, whatís a magi? Are these wise men, or astrologers or kings? This is the Bethlehem conundrum.
Well, the real Bethlehem conundrum is the subterfuge of King Herod posing as someone anxious to bow down and worship the Christ Child. The wise kings travel untold leagues to visit the baby, and Herod wonít travel eight miles down the Bethlehem road before lunch to take a look for himself. And we know what heís driven by, donít we? Itís certainly not devotion.
Right here, in the heart of Matthewís Christmas story, is a jealous king plotting a murder. What happened to the peace of "Silent Night"?
Eight Februarys ago, I had the incredible fortune to travel to Israel. I remember so well our visit to Bethlehem, what Isaiah the prophet called the city of David. That day, before tensions between Israelis and Palestinians began to rise, one could still imagine an impossibly young Palestinian girl, literally filled with holy purpose, astride a donkey going down that little townís one main street looking desperately, by starlight, for "the" (singular) Inn. Our own visit seemed anything but momentous. We took our time to examine the stones of the floor of the original church planted there under the direction of Constantineís devout mother, St. Helena.
We then made our way down below the central altar to the first century grotto where the baby was supposed to have been born. I remember being moved most by the humble cell, there still, where St. Jerome translated the Vulgate, just a few feet away from the scene of the original manger. How remarkable for one like him to work and worship there daily, hourly, minute by minute. It must have been like living in the middle of a meditation. How powerful, but nothing prepared me for what I met upon coming back up to the level of the modern church.
Rapidly lengthening shadows eclipsed the intense sunlight that only a moment before had been streaming through the rear doors. This was followed by the sound of dozens of swift steps on stone. A score, then two, of figures, all in black, entered the church followed by four men carrying what looked like a very plane wooden coffin. The sound of it being placed down on the limestone floor before the altar was startling, deep and dry. This was definitely no museum of the nativity. Though there were thirty or more of us milling about the place, the worshipers, obviously moved by this oneís passing, ignored us completely. No doubt about it, this was every bit a living church; a faithful, tight (albeit ancient) Christian community very much in mourning.
Feeling terribly obtrusive, I wanted to just disappear; yet, I was transfixed. How perfect, I thought. The integrity of the church at Bethlehem, one of the oldest churches in Christendom, was this minute clear for anyone with eyes to see. Here, two thousand years along, this ancient shrine so faithfully served to shelter the celebration of a Christianís death. Within minutes, the service was over, and, just as swiftly, the mourners hurried out, on their way, no doubt, to the local cemetery to tuck away this loved one.
How ironic. We had come in search of one thing and found something utterly, profoundly different. Bethlehem, the place of Christís birth, had given us a glimpse of what a truly holy death should look like. And by attending to the tenderness and honor attached to that anonymous Palestinianís death we had come more deeply to appreciate the holy birth of the most famous human being in our planetís history, someone pilgrims have journeyed to Bethlehem to honor for some eighteen hundred years.
A holy birth and a holy death; what are they separated by? A few steps. A few holy steps. But looking in at Matthewís version of the nativity -- itís not strange at all. Christmas is barely five days gone and here, in this gospel, just twelve verses past the nativity is the insertion of the story of King Herodís massacre of the boy babies in Bethlehem.
King Herod "The Great" threatened by talk of a new king, will order the killing of all the boy babies around the little town. Down through the ages innumerable kings and dictators have order the massacre of Jewish children. Itís an old story, and is so in contrast with "O Little Town of Bethlehem, how still we see they lie." Still in death, maybe.
So, Matthewís Christmas pageant will end not with tinsel covered angels proclaiming goodwill, but Rachel weeping for her slaughtered children. Christmas in Bethlehem, the real Bethlehem.
Herod was no fool. He had been in power long enough to be able to tell a rival when he saw one. What dirty shepherds saw as a baby, a distant relative of King David, Herod knew as a threat to everything on which his kingdom was based.
So Herod joins all the other leaders of our age, Hitler, Pol Pot, Stalin, Mao, Milosevic (and perhaps Musharraf?); men who didnít mind a little murder in order to advance their political ideals, however evil or wrong-headed.
The magi in T.S. Eliotís poem, "Journey of the Magi," ask, "weíre we led all that way for Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly. We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death, but had thought they were different; this birth was hard and bitter agony for us, like death, our death. We returned to our places, these Kingdoms, but no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation, with an alien people clutching their gods."[1]
So it is for all men and women who find the new kingdom of Jesus wearying. But I sense that the old magi went back to their homes feeling more like Simeon in Lukeís wonderful after-Christmas story, happy to have been granted long enough life to recognize real hope when they saw it in the face.
[1] T.S. Eliot, Collected Poems, 1909-1962 (San Diego, California: Harcourt Trade Publishers, 1991) pp. 99-100.
Scott Dalgarno is pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Ashland, Oregon. He is also an adjunct professor at Southern Oregon University, where he teaches Film and Ethics. His poetry, essays, and stories have appeared in numerous publications, including The Christian Century, America: The National Catholic Weekly, The Antioch Review, and Alive Now.
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply email the story to us at storyshare@sermonsuite.com.
**************
StoryShare, January 6, 2008, issue.
Copyright 2008 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
