The Riverside Gathering Posts

Two months ago, Jane was away for the weekend, so I broke our Sunday routine and sat alone on the back row at Blacknall Presbyterian instead of our usual spot two-thirds back on the left side. Earlier that morning, in the parking lot, a woman I’d seen before—probably mid-forties, clearly struggling with mental health or substance issues—had approached me asking for money. In our nearly cashless world, I had none to give. She muttered some expletives; I wished her a good day and headed inside. Fifteen minutes into the service, she entered the sanctuary. I didn’t see her at first, but then felt a not-so-gentle shove to my shoulder. “Can…

This Sunday’s second reading from Hebrews [11:1-3, 8-16] offers us one of the most stirring passages in all of Scripture. You’ve likely heard it quoted at funerals or seen it referenced in discussions about faith: Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” [11:1]. The passage goes on to tell the stories of biblical heroes — Abraham and Sarah, Moses, Noah — but not in the way we might expect. These aren’t tales of people who had everything figured out, who possessed unshakeable certainty about God’s plans. Instead, they’re stories of men and women who acted on promises they knew they would never…

And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions” [Luke 12:15, a portion of the Gospel reading, Luke 12:13-21, for this Sunday, the Eighth Sunday after Pentecost (Revised Common Lectionary, Year C]. It begins with an ordinary moment: someone asks Jesus to settle a family inheritance dispute. To modern ears, this might sound odd—why ask a traveling preacher to arbitrate a legal matter? But in Jesus’ time, it was quite common for Jews to bring their disputes to a trusted rabbi for advice and arbitration. Rabbis were expected to know the law…

Far be it from You to do such a thing, to slay the righteous with the wicked, so that the righteous fare as the wicked! Far be that from you! Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just? — Genesis 18:25 This week’s meditation focuses on Genesis 18:20–32, the alternate Old Testament reading for this upcoming Sunday, the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost (Revised Common Lectionary, Year C). The passage follows immediately after that mysterious encounter between Abraham and his three visitors—one of whom may well have been YHWH Himself. In that earlier passage, Sarah has just finished eavesdropping on the divine promise that she, at ninety,…

But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things, but few things are needed–indeed only one” [Luke 10:41-42a]. Growing up at Olney Presbyterian Church in Gastonia, I often watched the deacons prepare for our monthly covered dish suppers. Half a dozen men would arrive early to wrestle heavy collapsible tables down from the stuffy attic, set up chairs, and make sure everything was ready before the meal. Afterward, they stayed late to clean up, fold chairs, and haul it all back upstairs. An uncle was one of those deacons. He wasn’t a complainer by nature, but now and then I’d hear him mutter under…

A Meditation on Amos 7:7–17 … but never again prophesy at Bethel, for it is the king’s sanctuary, and it is a temple of the kingdom [Amos 7:13]. Virtually everyone has heard of Isaiah or Jeremiah, those prophets with long scrolls and soaring visions. But Amos? Probably not. He’s one of the so-called “minor” prophets, tucked quietly into the middle of the Old Testament. His book is short, but his message still cuts deep. Amos was a herdsman and tree-trimmer from the southern kingdom of Judah—ordinary work, nothing priestly about it. One day, without training or appointment, he heard God call him to go north, to Israel, and speak a…

A Meditation on 2 Kings 5:1–14 Proper 9, RCL Year C The Expectation Gap Naaman was a great man — commander of the Syrian army, close to the king, victorious in battle. He was also a leper. His disease was the one enemy his military prowess couldn’t defeat, the one problem his position couldn’t solve. It was a servant girl — a young Israelite captive in his household — who suggested to his wife that he might find healing through a prophet in Samaria. So Naaman arrives at Elisha’s door with everything except an appointment. He’s brought silver, gold, festal garments — the currency of miracles, he assumes. He’s traveled…

When the days drew near for him to be received up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem [Luke 9:51, RSV]. In the Gospel lesson appointed for this upcoming Sunday, Luke 9:51-62 [the Third Sunday after Pentecost, RCL, Year C], the Gospel writer doesn’t indicate that Jesus turned his path toward Jerusalem or that, after careful consideration, he decided to go there. Luke says that Jesus “set his face.” A Semitic idiom, it’s also a vivid image. Not a glance. Not a nod. Instead, a gaze that hardens into direction, like steel cooling into a blade. In Luke’s Gospel, it’s the moment when everything shifts. From this point on,…

Before the coming of this faith, we were held in custody under the law, locked up until the faith that was to come would be revealed. So the law was our guardian [Greek: paidagōgós] until Christ came that we might be justified by faith. Now that this faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian [Galatians 3:23-26]. There are seasons in the life of faith when it feels as though we live under strict supervision. The rules are clear, the boundaries set. Right and wrong are carefully marked, and our spiritual world is fenced by expectations. These seasons can feel confining. But they can also be safe. There…

by Thomas A. Robinson. Copyright 2025. All rights reserved. Philip said it first—quietly, as if wonder required no force. “Come and see” [John 1:46]. To Nathanael beneath the fig tree, to the Greeks with careful questions, to all who asked more than they dared believe. From the city where stone once unsuccessfully sealed a tomb, he walked east, past borders and maps, until the hills of Phrygia received his last breath. No gospel records the words he spoke there. What remains is this: the hill remembers. The stones lean inward. A silence deeper than ruin lingers. I stood there— feet on earth that had cradled his bones, morning sun rising…