Opinion

I have been going to church all of my life. As kids, my mother hauled my brothers and me to church every single Sunday. I sang in the choir. I was a member of the youth group. I was an acolyte. I was going to church four or five days a week. Since I have grown up and become a church pastor, it has only gotten worse.

I hear there is quite a buzz going on in town, not only downtown but on the mainland as well. Some say the buzz is flying around like wild fire, while others say it hides in beautiful places. I say this buzz is all about bees! What a stinging answer to this fictitious paragraph.

I recently had the privilege of reading a short letter written by a fellow Christian to a person in jail. The letter was so utterly sincere in its expression of love that it almost brought me to tears. If that was my reaction to a letter not even written to me, I can only imagine what impact it had on the one to whom it was written.

According to many experts, the economic meltdown our country is now experiencing is due, in large part, to a virtual collapse in our housing industry. From all accounts, the billions of dollars being expended by the U. S. Government to bail out Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac and others is the result of the failure of bad loans. The question may reasonably be asked, are unscrupulous lenders to blame, or are irresponsible borrowers at fault? And just what is a ‘predatory loan’?

There are many wonderful opportunities that I have being a church pastor. One of these is that I occasionally get to hear many fine and creative excuses as to why whoever it is that I happen to be speaking to does not attend church. Mostly these are quite unsolicited. Folks find out that I am a pastor and just launch into one completely of their own. I have been a pastor for less than three years and I already have a formidable collection. Look for them under the title Church Absences, a Glossary of Lame Excuses coming to a bookstore near you.

Dear Editor:

Congratulations to your appointment as Editor of the Cedar Key Beacon. We had been coming to Cedar Key for 50 years and many times spend more time there than we do at our home in St. Pete. We have subscribed to your excellent paper for many years.

Some decades back, I arrived in the Cedar Keys not really sure where I was going. A new company was in my mind and I needed a place without hustle and bustle to relax, think and plan. Heading north up the west coast of Florida on Route Nineteen, I turned left on any hard surfaced road looking for the Gulf of Mexico. Known even then by the nickname “Trouble”, I crossed Number Four Bridge after an arduous drive from nowhere onto the Cedar Keys, miles out in the Gulf.