A weekend without church
It has been a good Armistice Day weekend.
Let me count the reasons …
The University of Illinois football team traveled to Columbus, Ohio on Saturday and returned to Champaign with smiles on their faces. Since Illinois now seems destined for some bowl game invitation, Coach Zook will receive a $200,000 bonus. I wonder what an English professor will get for making it possible for most of the players to read their names in the Gazette.
The U of I played their season opening basketball game Sunday afternoon and won. The team had a slow start, racking up only 20 points in the first 20 minute period. In the second half of the game, they scored twice as many points. That was enough. I wish I had been a fly on the wall to hear what Coach Weber said in the halftime break. The difference in the team’s performance hinted that his locker room talk was a barn burner.
But the real put-me-over-the-top part of the weekend experience was that I watched the game live from the second from the top row of seats in Assembly Hall with my son sitting next to me. Actually, ever better than being at the game with my first-born was the two hour drive each way from Springfield to Champaign with my son that was the best part of the experience. Not often do I get to spend six or seven hours alone with him, so the weekend has been exceptional in several ways.
Is was Armistice Day and at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month my son and I talked about our military service. I always take some sinful pride that my son and I share a common experience of uniformed service to our country. I know some fathers who wish they could tell and listen to war stories with an understanding son. In the company of such men, a joyful kind of guilt sometimes arises in me as I try to imagine what that lack might mean.
At the end of the day, in a moment of reflection about the day, I had to deal with the fact that I missed worship this morning. After making a false start on a guilt trip, I realized that even the Heavenly Father missed the Sabbath worship in the temple that Friday night that his son lay in a tomb. At least spending time with a son put me in good company.
And the second point of my sermonic reflection gave me this take-home message. Just as I treasure today’s father-son time to chat, remember, and enjoy each other’s company, wouldn’t my Heavenly Father enjoy a little. special time alone with me?
I wonder if the preacher’s sermon at church this morning was as good as the one I experienced with my son Scott.
Let me count the reasons …
The University of Illinois football team traveled to Columbus, Ohio on Saturday and returned to Champaign with smiles on their faces. Since Illinois now seems destined for some bowl game invitation, Coach Zook will receive a $200,000 bonus. I wonder what an English professor will get for making it possible for most of the players to read their names in the Gazette.
The U of I played their season opening basketball game Sunday afternoon and won. The team had a slow start, racking up only 20 points in the first 20 minute period. In the second half of the game, they scored twice as many points. That was enough. I wish I had been a fly on the wall to hear what Coach Weber said in the halftime break. The difference in the team’s performance hinted that his locker room talk was a barn burner.
But the real put-me-over-the-top part of the weekend experience was that I watched the game live from the second from the top row of seats in Assembly Hall with my son sitting next to me. Actually, ever better than being at the game with my first-born was the two hour drive each way from Springfield to Champaign with my son that was the best part of the experience. Not often do I get to spend six or seven hours alone with him, so the weekend has been exceptional in several ways.
Is was Armistice Day and at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month my son and I talked about our military service. I always take some sinful pride that my son and I share a common experience of uniformed service to our country. I know some fathers who wish they could tell and listen to war stories with an understanding son. In the company of such men, a joyful kind of guilt sometimes arises in me as I try to imagine what that lack might mean.
At the end of the day, in a moment of reflection about the day, I had to deal with the fact that I missed worship this morning. After making a false start on a guilt trip, I realized that even the Heavenly Father missed the Sabbath worship in the temple that Friday night that his son lay in a tomb. At least spending time with a son put me in good company.
And the second point of my sermonic reflection gave me this take-home message. Just as I treasure today’s father-son time to chat, remember, and enjoy each other’s company, wouldn’t my Heavenly Father enjoy a little. special time alone with me?
I wonder if the preacher’s sermon at church this morning was as good as the one I experienced with my son Scott.
posted by John | 8:53 PM
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