Wow! It seems like a long, long time since I've written to you. Actually it has been over six months. Which is longer than normal. Ever since about the beginning of lent, I have begun an across the board examination, or perhaps introspection, of where I'm at, what I believe, and what I'm doing. This newsletter will reflect somewhat that process. Along with six months of normal stuff to relate.

A couple of months back I heard a sermon by a visiting pastor while I was visiting a church in Petoskey, MI. He told a story about the building of the Taj Mahal in India. As you may, or may not, know the Taj Mahal was commissioned built by Shah Jahan. Apparently his beloved Arjumand Banu Begum, known by the title Mumtaz Mahal ("crown of the palace"), died in 1631. Well, the Shah was so distraught, he was apparently beside himself about what to do. That's when he decided to honor her and show his great love by building the greatest structure the world had ever seen as her final resting place (mausoleum). According to the story the Pastor was telling, the Shah had them start the construction right around the coffin of Mumtaz. He would come every day to mourn her and see how the building was progressing. Throughout the course of the 17 years it took to construct, the Shah's obsession with her death, switched to an obsession with the project, and the greatness of his structure. As the undertaking was coming to a close, the Shah and his builder were wandering through the edifice very late in the evening. In the great hall, the Shah stumbled over an old wooden box some workers had apparently left sitting around. He chastised the builder that he would be so lax as to allow his workers to leave such trash laying about in such a spectacular complex, as this he had built, and ordered it removed and thrown out immediately. The wooden box was, of course, the coffin and remains of Mumtaz Mahal. I suspect this story falls into the category of folklore, although the names, dates, and story of why the Taj Mahal was built are accurately told (Grolier's Encyclopedia).

It does create a clear point though for those of us who claim to be Christian. Our lives, our denominations, our churches, and the Church, are all supposed to be built around an old wooden cross. Have we become so caught up with what we're building that we've long since thrown out that old pile of wood "cluttering" up our grand plans. You might want to give some thought before answering.

While I was stopping on Teaching & Sharing Center business in Cherokee, NC, I had an opportunity to speak with a fellow who had been an elder in one of the churches down there, and apparently quite active. He has, however, returned to the old Cherokee religion. His statement was, "if you took away the threat of hell and the collection plate, Christianity would disappear." My response to him was, that indeed many churches calling themselves "Christian" would fall. But at the center of Christianity is Jesus, the Christ. His cross. His love. And wherever those truths are still at the center of a church, or an individual, they will endure.

I will leave it up to you to determine how many fall into that latter category.

In Native American circles it's not too difficult to understand why they aren't so enamored with this "Christian" culture that came to "rescue" them. I've heard it said, as justification, we didn't do anything to them that they weren't already doing to each other. Or, they fared better historically than other conquered peoples. Now there's an interesting perspective for a "Christian" people to take.

Anyway, this whole idea of whether we've lost sight of Christ as a valid, impacting on what we do, how we live, choices we make, center in our life, church, or business "building plans" has become the central question of my own analysis of priorities here. In every aspect of a touch of william. In truth it's all one.