Feb 21

Feb 21 And a Child Shall Lead Them

Billy Graham passed away at the age of 99 this morning. Throughout the day, people have rightfully been lauding his impact on the world. He preached good news to millions of people and brought hope to individuals from all over the globe. He was not perfect nor would he claim to be. But his life is a testimony to the difference that an individual can make. Reflecting on his life has caused me to look on the past, but also to look towards the future.

In the wake of the tragic mass shooting at Parkland, I have been amazed at the courage and boldness of high school students who have spoken out. In a world in which many adults, including myself, have reluctantly resigned themselves to the perpetuation of this violent madness, these young women and men have drawn a line in the sand.

Today they have gone to the state capitol in Tallahassee to hold their representatives accountable. Students across the country are walking out of schools in solidarity. They are speaking with conviction in front of large crowds. I have not been able to tear my eyes away from Florida all afternoon.

Feb 15

Feb 15 Beloved Child of God

Chris Cox

The right words are sometimes difficult to find.

Last night was my second time on the other end of Ash Wednesday. I stood at the front of the sanctuary in my robe (I was also wearing a tie, which is a bit unusual seeing as if I had a dollar for everyone who mentioned the fact that I was dressed up, I could have taken EA to a nice Valentine's Day dinner) and administered ashes. And I found myself struggling with what to say as I made the sign of the cross on each individual's forehead.

The fretting is on me. These women and men weren't coming to hear whatever I said. They were here for the ashes. But I still didn't want to be pithy. I didn't want to water down this holy moment that has meant a great deal to me. I still remember Lisa Allen speaking to me one Wednesday many years ago and how her words were like oxygen to my spirit. It's not that I wanted to be grandly eloquent, but I wanted to minister. I'm probably too lost in my own head sometimes.

The right words are sometimes difficult to find until you realize they are right there in front of you.

Feb 14

Feb 14 We've Got to Try

Chris Cox

It's gray and gloomy outside today because of course it is. Throughout the day, many of us will slide into a church pew and hear some variation on these words:

"You are dust and to dust you shall return."

There is harshness there. It's a slap of reality to the face and its hand is cold and brittle. We don't like to think of not being here. Our entire frame of reference is being alive. We may understand that death creeps around some unknown corner, but we don't really like to dwell on it. Well, poets might. Yet on the whole, humanity does not like being reminded of its finite nature.

Feb 4

Feb 4 22 Minute Lessons (John 13:34-35)

Chris Cox

Sermon Manuscript

It was one of the rare beautiful days that we have had lately. The sun was shining and it was warm enough that five seniors in our youth group and I were eating lunch on the patio at SATCo. In trying to find some semblance of a theme for Youth Sunday in May, I was listening to their collective story of their time at Woodmont. Houston, Macy, Grace, Grace, and Emeline shared tales of weeklong lock-ins, read text messages that were older than one of my children, and relayed the highs and lows of their times together. I asked them why they had stayed. What made them stick around through the various changes that would have chased others away? I don’t remember who answered, but they said that they had stayed because of each other. That community, that group of friends was a safe place in a world of change, a solid rock in a churning sea.

Since the new year began, we have been doing a series called “Back to the Basics.” Our pastor has done a great job going over some of the basic building blocks of our faith. And as we wrap up that series, I want us to talk about community because it is one of the glues that hold those building blocks together. Community is the context from which most of scripture is told. The Bible is the story of a family, then tribes, then a nation, then a group of disciples, and then the early church. All of which makes sense. Community is unavoidable. You can try to do life alone, but that is nearly impossible. Relationships with other people are a fact of our reality.

Jan 26

Jan 26 Standing Around with a Bag Full of Anger

Chris Cox

I have come to the not-so-enjoyable conclusion that I have gotten really good at shoving anger deep down into my system. I thought I was getting rid of it or letting it roll off my back. But anger doesn't work that way. You have to deal with it. But I didn't want to deal with it. I thought it was wrong to deal with it.

I'm not supposed to feel anger, right?

I love the Sermon on the Mount. God, I wish that I could live out that beautiful dream of three chapters more fully in my life. But I took the wrong message when Jesus said that if you are angry with someone then you are liable to judgment. In the framework of "all sins are the same" (which I now realize is a dubious framework), anger equals murder. I don't want kill people so if I feel anger, I must avoid it. Engaging with it would mean acknowledging it was real and that would get my hands dirty. My wires got crossed. I neglected the reality that Jesus got angry multiple times.

Jan 3

Jan 3 Christmas in Ordinary Times

Chris Cox

Christmas is not over. Yeah, the kids are back in school. The Pa-rum-pum-pum-pums are pa-rum-pum-pum-done. Santa has vacated the mall. And one of my sons and I came home yesterday to find our Christmas tree lying on the ground beneath our front porch as if it had been pushed to its death*. But Christmas is not over.

You might know this. There are no shortage of bloggers or that guys on Facebook who will remind you of not-yet-doneness of the holidays. After all, there are the Twelve Days of Christmas and, as of this writing, we're at ten lords a-leapin' in that unhinged bout of gift-giving. More importantly, the church still observes Christmas season through January 6 when we celebrate Epiphany to remember the Magi visiting the Christ Child.

There is something poetic about Christmas still lingering around; no longer the center of attention. There is a moment after the birth of a child when the extended family members return home, the meals stop coming into the house, and everything is calmer...except for the fact that there's a new life in the house. Life settles into routine but there is a child there that has fundamentally transformed life. It's ordinary yet it's not. And it will never go back to being the same. A new life changes everything. Christmas is supposed to change everything.

Jan 1

Jan 1 A New Hope

Chris Cox

One of the best parts of being a parent is getting a second chance to see the world through the eyes of a child. You even get to see things you never got to see yourself. On the last day of 2017, I got to see my young sons see a Star Wars movie on the big screen and it was pretty magical.

I grew up loving the adventures in a galaxy far, far away, but I initially knew them only from VHS tapes. It wasn’t until I was 13 when I saw the Special Editions in the theater, which was cool but it’s not quite the same as being a wide-eyed seven year old.

Our family went to see The Last Jedi with some friends from church. Liam sat to my left, Jim, the oldest, to my right. When the movie started, I read the opening crawl to him. He responded, “I could’ve read that Dad.” And we were off.

Dec 27

Dec 27 The Lost George

Chris Cox

We were rushing out to our car in the frigid cold. Suddenly our oldest son froze in the middle of the park and our entire day with him. With a quiet concern that masked panic, he wondered aloud, "Where's George?" George, his stuffed monkey. His constant companion since he could barely talk. At first, I said he didn't come inside the mall, but with horror I immediately corrected myself.

George did go inside with Jim. And now he wasn't with Jim. And I couldn't remember the last time I had seen him.

I cursed under my breath as I rushed back inside the food court to check the table where we had eaten lunch. No George. I ran to the one store we went to after we had eaten. I looked around. I asked the employees if they had seen a stuffed monkey. They checked behind the counter. "Sorry, no."

Dec 14

Dec 14 Time Deepens Some Wounds

Chris Cox

I can't stop thinking about Sandy Hook today. I was reminded this morning that it has been five years since that indescribably tragedy. I saw faces of children whose lives were ripped away on that day. And it all felt like a boot on my chest.

I see my sons in their faces. Our oldest was two and an only child when the shooting happened. Five years on, he's the same age as some of the children who died that day. His little brother is not too far behind him. He'll start elementary school in the fall. And I cannot imagine the hell those parents went through; that they still go through.

You would think that day would have galvanized us as a country. That we would have done something, anything to try to make sure that didn't happen again. You would think that children being murdered in their school would have brought us together to protect the future that beat inside their hearts.

Dec 3

Dec 3 The Night Before Advent

Chris Cox

The calendar gave us an early Thanksgiving this year and it seems like it has been an eon between turkey and Advent. But I am ready for Advent. I need Advent right now. I need it more than I need Christmas. Advent might be the most real that the Christian faith gets. It is darkness and defiant hope. It rages against the powerful who pay lip service to God but leave the marginalized out in the cold. Advent is when we stand in the thick of Already and Not Yetness of the Reign of God. When we sit alongside those waiting for Immanuel and wait ourselves for when all shall be made right.

October 30, 2026

What's My Name? What's My Station?

I have a new office in our home and one of the things I am enjoying is decorating the space. I have placed books, Lego sets, and Funko Pops on the shelves. My wall has photos of family, places that I have traveled, artwork my siblings have given me, diplomas, etc. Across from my desk on the wall, hangs a cross that we got from a church in Reykjavik and a small colorfully-painted tile depicting Assisi. On the floor beneath them is the one item in here that I haven’t yet put up: my certificate of ordination.

I was ordained as a minister ten years ago today. It was a step with which I struggled for awhile. My Baptist roots fostered in me a firm belief in the priesthood of all believers. If you say that you are a follower of Jesus, then you are a minister. So the hierarchy implied by being called “Reverend” made me feel a little uncomfortable. I did not use the title for myself often unless I was writing my Congressperson. Despite these qualms, I did ultimately pursue ordination. I am glad that I did. I am just not totally sure what to make of it now.

I don’t serve as a vocational minister anymore; not in a church, not as a chaplain, not in some sort of parachurch organization. I am an Administrative Assistant in a hospital Spiritual Care department. In fact, I haven’t even attended a church service in maybe a year and a half save an Ash Wednesday service that I snuck off to at the beginning of Lent. I did officiate a wedding in a church over the summer; an experience that I loved and was very meaningful for me. But I don’t really know what to do about that ordination certificate. Or church.

June 15, 2026

Dangerous Memories and Unfinished Futures

“’Do this in remembrance of me.’ Jesus invites you to commemorate his betrayal, death, and resurrection. His invitation makes space for ‘dangerous memory,’ a memory that, as post-Holocaust Catholic theologian Johann Baptist Metz tells us, ‘puts pressure on and questions our present because in it we remember an unfinished future.’ Memory can unsettle the unreconciled present and open up a future for the hopeless and the forgotten, the failed and the oppressed….Remembering keeps the ghosts alive so that they may warn and comfort, haunt and inspire the living: dangerous memories that rush toward an unfinished future. Making the absent present allows for processing grief, strengthening commitments, and opening up vision. Such remembrance commits you to work for a future for those who have been forgotten, erased, and left behind.”
-Hanna Reichel, For Such a Time as This, 88, 89

I believe that most of us experience an internal tug-of-war between the past and the future. In The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis’ titular demon supervisor advises his underling Wormwood that one of best ways to keep a human from doing good is to keep them ping-ponging between those two times that are not the present. One keeps trying to recapture or reach towards moments that are mist. It can keep a person from doing something.

The quote above resonates with me because it harnesses the past and unfinished future into a catalyst that animates our present. We remember the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus because it means something today and compels us to presently work for the Good that is already here, but also not yet. We remember the hope and pain of the past to do something that help us take some sort of step each and every day. We realize that the hope which exists within the gospel story is not yet fully realized. Many people are still being left behind and forgotten. The realization, as the theologian Metz states, puts pressure and questions on the present.

June 1, 2026

First Day of Pride

Being a parent forces you to take a close look at yourself. Of course, you don’t have to be a parent to self-examine, but there is something about the reality that another living human is under your care and protection for the foreseeable future that makes you take stock of your strengths, weaknesses, and beliefs. For example, I used to think I was a far more patient person before I had kids; like superhumanly patient. And then a crying toddler shows you the folly of that belief. On the flip side, time has moved on and having two teenagers affirms that, yes, I am ridiculously patient and that has been a strength as a parent.

Among many other reorienting moments that came with parenthood was full acceptance of our LGBTQ+ siblings. That process began many years earlier. As someone who studied religion, I knew that the biblical case against these individuals was not nearly as airtight as I was previously led to believe. Science and stories from people gave strong indication that this life was not a choice. And I had met gay and lesbian folks who were good people. The old axiom that you will know a tree by its fruit applies here.

But the tipping point was holding a tiny infant who I loved more than I thought possible and knowing that I never wanted him to be ashamed of who he is. I did not want a potential future in which one of my children came out as something other than heterosexual with the fear that we would not love them. Not accepting my child was not even conceivably on the table. So we raised our kids to know that LGBTQ+ were beloved members of God’s creation.

May 24, 2026

Not a Defeat If You Can Find a Way to Laugh About It

There is this typical ice breaker question that is some variation of “If you could have dinner with anyone famous living or dead, who would it be?” And one of my steadfast answers for almost twenty years has been Stephen Colbert. Through both The Colbert Report and The Late Show, he has given hours upon hours of laughter and more than enough on which to ponder. I feel like we’d have a lot to talk about since we are both unabashed nerds, products of the Palmetto State, and he just seems like a good hang.

Beyond all of that, I appreciate how honestly and humbly Colbert approaches his faith. There have been numerous times over the years when his comedy and conversations take a turn into the spiritual that is challenging and convicting. I remember an episode of The Colbert Report where one minute he was making a joke about Ben Franklin’s predilection for French prostitutes and then organically made his way to the following quote:

If this is going to be a Christian nation that doesn't help the poor, either we have to pretend that Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we've got to acknowledge that He commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy without condition and then admit that we just don't want to do it.

Then there are the interviews that he has conducted on The Late Show. Colbert has said that he sort of found the heart of his show when he had a conversation with then-Vice President Biden about grief. Indeed the loss of his father and brothers at a young age has led him to create an empathetic space to explore loss in the midst of celebrities promoting their most recent projects (my mind immediately comes to a conversation that he had with Andrew Garfield about the loss of the actor’s mother).

May 21, 2026

While I Breathe, I Hope

On the way to school, the youngest burrowed his head into my arm. “I don’t like that you’re getting older.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you’re one year closer to death.”

“There it is.” That’s my kid. Very sweet. Very sensitive. Brutally, bordering on inappropriately blunt. “Well, it’s better than the alternative.”

“Getting younger?” He thinks for a second. “Oh…dying.”

“Yeah, you can’t get younger.” I scratch him on the head. “And hopefully I have a ways to go. Ideally, I’ll still be kicking around when you turn 43.”

“You’ll be 73. So that’s reasonable”

“Yeah.”

“Granddad will be 103.”

“Less likely. But maybe. I hope he is as long as he’s happy.”

“And healthy. Happy, healthy, and alive.” Then he goes into a bit from an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine which makes me laugh.

Birthdays, as my oldest posited this morning, are kind of weird when you get older. Or at least they morph into something different from the second Christmas-esque excitement when you’re a kid. Because there does get to be that point where it creeps into your mind that you are a year closer to death. And that forces you take stock of your life which is a hit-or-miss affair due to being human’s volatility.

May 18, 2026

To Jim on his 16th Birthday

One day last week, I picked you up from school after took one of your AP exams and then I moved over to the passenger seat so you could practice driving. In the midst of being hyper vigilant about your speed, how quickly you stopped, how close you were to the side of the road, and what every single other car on the road was doing, I had a distinct moment of looking over at you and realizing that so much is changing. And we’re only at the start.

Today you turn 16. You are about to wrap up your sophomore year of high school. You’ll take a driver’s license test in just a few weeks. We have three more summers before you go off to college. There are times it seems like yesterday when you were sitting in the living room watching cartoons with a couple of dozen superhero toys. There are times it seems like last week when you were a newborn sleeping in my arms.

The feeling of you being 16 is kind of like being the passenger in the car while you are driving. I have a ton of confidence in you and trust you. And I worry about your lack of experience in a big, sometimes frightening world and whether I have taught you well enough. I am wary of everyone else on the road. I wonder if you are going too fast even though you are going an appropriate speed and I am the one who encouraged you not to go as slow in the first place. It is all very exciting, humbling, frightening, and new.

April 21, 2026

What Nintendo Can Teach the Church

Christmas 1988. My brother Taylor and I receive the Nintendo Entertainment System packaged with Super Mario Bros. and Duck Hunt and we have been fans ever since. We have grown up with the Japanese company’s gaming systems; the adventures of Mario, Luigi, Yoshi, Link, Zelda, Donkey and Diddy Kong, and more have been a consistent presence in our lives. Even though we are in three different states now as adults, Taylor, my sister Shari, myself, and our kids will get together every so often and play Mario Kart online. We love Nintendo, which is a weird thing to say about a corporation that makes a billion dollars but it is what it is.

With all that said, I loved the Keza MacDonald’s book Super Nintendo: The Game-Changing Company That Unlocked the Power of Play. Not only is it an engaging journey through video game history through the lens of Nintendo’s iconic (and less iconic) franchises, but the book also has a great deal to say about creativity, community, and culture. In fact, it is that last idea that got me thinking about how this video game company can teach the church (or any other organization) even as I am a bit of an outsider to that world presently.

Here is one of two quotes that jumped out at me from the chapter “Splatoon” which looks at how Nintendo continues innovate and create over 40 years into its video game endeavors:

April 12, 2026

Easter Orphans, A Lost Cat, and A Tightrope Called Hope

“Happy Easter?”

That is the first thing EA said to me as I woke up on Easter morning. I stretched and rubbed my eyes.

“I still believe in Jesus. It’s just the church that I’m not sure about.”

Some context: This was the first Easter in our 20+ years of marriage (and likely in either of our lives) in which we did not have a church to attend. It’s been about a year since we’ve gone to church as a family. Honestly, the church that we attended after I stepped down from working in a congregation had a tall order to tend to our hurting family. It was a good group of people, but the services and community never really clicked with our boys. Then early last year, I got moved to a Sunday morning shift. EA tried for a bit to go by herself but it wasn’t what she needed. In the end, I was gone for about eight months before anyone in the church really noticed and we decided to take a break.

I acknowledge my uncertainty about the church is a bit over-dramatic. Of course, there are great churches out there. There are wonderful people in congregations where my family and I have experienced the most pain. It’s akin to writing off burritos for life because you got violent food poisoning from one (This is based on a true story; I have not written off burritos just that particular Chipotle location). But the church hurt is real. As is the MAGA-fication of the denomination in which I grew up that feels so antithetical to the teachings of Jesus. So we don’t have a place to call home and it’s weird and sad and understandable.

April 1, 2026

Lent Fail

Absurdist Note: I really want to add “Woo-ooh!” after the title. If you know, you know.

I have not pulled off this year’s Lenten disciplines the way that I set out to. When this 40 day period began, I set out to take on this fasts/spiritual practices:

Stop drinking Coca-Cola
Stop eating French fries
Stop playing Disney Solitaire on my phone
Do a daily devotional from Richard Rohr’s Wondrous Encounters
Write a blog five days a week

When the war in Iran began and threw another log on the fire that is the world, it pained me both spiritually and physically. One of the ways that played out was headaches and since headaches were already part of removing the caffeine of Coca-Cola from my life, I decided I probably shouldn’t compound a problem and began drinking Coke again. I have had French fries a few times; not many, mind you, but enough to break up the fast. There have been several multiple day stretches where I did not do my devotional. And my efforts to blog five times a week quickly fell by the wayside. I have managed to keep from playing Disney Solitaire, but that still puts my Lenten average in Mendoza Line territory.

March 29, 2026

An Awkward Parade (Revisited)

Several hundred, some may say several thousand, years worth of anticipation hung thick in the air. Like summer humidity that sticks to your shirt the second you step outside, you couldn’t avoid it if you wanted to. Especially not during Passover week.

There was a guy making his way into Jerusalem; a guy claiming to be the Messiah. This was nothing new. He would not be the first that people claimed would save us. There had been tons of guys going around saying that they were the One; saying that they were going to show Rome what’s what. So a would-be messiah making his way to Jerusalem was about as common as a singer-songwriter making their way to Nashville.

But this felt different. He seemed different. Now there was a fair amount of debate whether he was the right or wrong kind of different. For starters, word got out that he had tried to keep a lot of the messiah talk and even tales of his miracles under wraps. But it is difficult to keep those kind of stories quiet: dead men walking, the blind seeing, demons plunging a herd of pigs over a cliff, and thousands fed from a lunch meant for a single kid. You can tell people to keep that hush-hush all you want, but it’s not going to happen.