“Trim the Fat, Roast the PIIGS,” yelled one headline. “Is Europe Going to the PIIGS?” chided another. For those who aren’t following the European Union’s debt crisis, PIIGS is an acronym for Portugal, Ireland, Italy, Greece and Spain—five European nations on the brink of bankruptcy. In fact, some are estimating that Greece’s bankruptcy is now 98% certain. And the drama this week has centered on Chancellor Merkel of Germany and French president Sarkozy’s huddle with Greek prime minister Papandreou.

This Tuesday I sat with rapt attention, along with the rest of the student body (you could have heard a pin drop), as Stanley Praimnath recounted his harrowing survival  on the morning of September 11, 2001. An associate vice-president with Fuji Bank (which occupied floors 78 through 81 in Twin Towers #2), Praimnath was on the phone in his 81st floor office, when he happened to glance across the space and out a far window.

The old American folk song sings it well, doesn’t it? Irene goodnight, Irene goodnight Goodnight Irene, goodnight Irene I’ll see you in my dreams You cause me to weep, you cause me to mourn You cause me to leave my home But the very last words I heard her say Was “Please sing me one more song” Irene goodnight, Irene goodnight Goodnight Irene, goodnight Irene I’ll see you in my dreams But nobody up and down the eastern seaboard is in any mood to sing these words, as the massive clean-up for Hurricane Irene’s devastation continues.

Facebookers on the west coast have had fun, good-naturedly chiding their east coast cousins. “A 5.8 magnitude earthquake—and you’re hyperventilating?” After all, the 7.0+ magnitude quakes Californians have lived with for decades do make the temblor in Virginia this week seem a bit “wimpy.” But a quake is a quake. And the nervous chatter of “survivors” in the nation’s capital made for headline grist.

Just as the ubiquitous yellow school busses are revving up to begin another school year across the nation comes word about President Obama’s brand new $1.1 million mystery bus. Perhaps you’ve seen it on his road trip this week through some of our Midwest neighbor states—that new Greyhound-size black bus, with blacked out windows and red and blue police lights. Few details of the bus have been released, although the Christian Science Monitor website has conjectured what the imposing bus might be like.

Are these crazy times, or what? With a bit of self-talk, I actually enjoy careening roller coaster rides (mostly when they're over). But the plunging ride Wall Street and the global financial markets have taken us on these last few days as the result of America's credit rating being cut--no amusement park fun at all.

Do you remember learning to count? What kinds of things did you count? What kinds of things do you count today? What kinds of things should you be counting? This summer I started recounting some things. Our family went to Italy this summer. My daughter was taking a college class (yes, my little girl is now in college), my husband and I were spiritual leaders on the trip. I experienced the collision of two worlds. Although I had had my reservations, I was not prepared for the visceral, emotional, physical, and spiritual reaction I would have.

I was visiting after the conclusion of another seminary class.  I was sharing with one of my friends how I enjoyed the diversity of Andrews University.  Our conversion turned to how much progress our country has made in civil rights.   I asked what has been her experience as an African American growing up since MLK and the civil rights movement.  She was a little younger than myself so I expected a pretty mild testimony, especially as my friend came from the North.

This morning we are going to examine a story that took place long ago in the village of Bethany.  It’s a story you may have heard many times; however, it is full of meaning for us in the 21st century.  Something profound took place that day in Bethany.  Luke tells the story in his gospel, chapter 10, verses 38-42.  Now let’s join Martha as she tries to go to sleep.

This one’s a no-brainer, even if it was a hot, steamy afternoon. Twenty-year-old Sean Schmidt from Buffalo, New York, was racing down I-190 this week with a friend, when the open sunroof proved a temptation too strong. Suddenly standing up on the passenger seat, Sean pushed half his body through the opening into the glorious rushing air. And there he remained. Until a state trooper raced up behind him with cruiser lights flashing. Doomed, Sean crawled back into the car, grabbed a small bag of marijuana and tossed it out before being pulled over.