Most people understand the need for a traditional will. It’s to ensure that possessions are passed on to those we think deserve them or would appreciate them. But the reality is, possessions with quantifiable monetary value may not be our greatest assets.

If I’ve lived a rags-to-riches life, the narrative of what enabled my escape from poverty may be a more useful gift than the riches acquired. And ensuring that our children know our family story may be highly valued at some point, if not right now.

In the seminar I sat next to a Jewish man who said that his great-great-great-grandfather, a rabbi, delivered the Jewish eulogy at Abraham Lincoln’s funeral (several clergy participated). His family still has the script of what his ancestor said on that occasion. I would certainly hope he makes sure that his children know about their forebear and receive their own copy of the eulogy.

In the Coffin family, our immigrant ancestor––Tristram Coffin––arrived in Massachusetts from Devonshire, England, in 1642. That’s a few generations back! A mere 150 years after Columbus discovered the new world! Only 22 years after the arrival of the Pilgrims! So our family roots go deep into U.S. soil. My sons need to know that fact. And unless I take specific steps to ensure that they do, a significant piece of Coffin family history could be lost.

Remember, the seminar encouraged writing an "ethical will." So values and how those values related to one’s life are an important component of what should be shared. If fairness and justice are motivating principles of my life, what did I do to make sure that those principles were lived out?

What impact did the living out of those values have on me? Was I honored for my commitment? Did I lose a job at some point because I stood for principle? Did I lose friends because of my commitment to right? What did I do correctly and what would I like to be able to rewrite from my personal history?

Of course, one of the advantages of writing such a document is that it’s likely to influence to some degree what people actually say about me when I’m gone. So what would I want them to say? What would I want my obituary to highlight?

If there’s something I’d really like to have said about me when I’m gone, the best way to ensure that it will be said is to make it a life priority right now. Let’s say that I hope that people would describe me as having been a friend to all, irrespective of their station in life.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor

One of Pope’s more famous sayings is: "A little learning is a dangerous thing." Actually, the original statement continues: "Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring: / There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, / And drinking largely sobers us again."

Pope implies that our first introduction to an idea may leave us besotted. But if we take time to delve deeply, our feet will find solid ground once again. I would suggest that we could exchange the word "truth" for the word "learning," and Pope’s wisdom would still stand.

The other day I happened to mention that someone I knew had been spiritually injured by the actions of others. However, my listener assured me that others can’t injure us spiritually. Spiritual injury is a choice we make. I countered with one of those "Yes but No" replies.

Yes, I readily agree that we do have some control over how we respond to the spiritual slings and arrows that may be hurled our way or that we bump into accidentally. I repeat, we do have some choice. And we certainly should put forth effort to try to eliminate or minimize the negative impact. We should seek to live in the positive despite what has been done.

But, no, spiritual injury isn’t just a choice. Spiritual injury actually happens. Spiritual injury, even when resisted heroically, can still come about because of the intensity of the onslaught, because of the magnitude of the disillusionment, because of the stature of the one/ones inflicting the pain.

The children who were abused by unscrupulous Roman Catholic priests were truly abused. Their lives were at times shattered––not because they failed to appropriately "choose" not to be spiritually injured but because they truly were injured. And adults aren’t exempt from injury.

The partial truth is that in certain contexts and to varying degrees we can create a teflon exterior that allows spiritual barbs to bounce off of us (at least those up to a certain magnitude and experienced for a certain duration). But that is in no way a universal truth that spiritual injury is purely a matter of choice.

Pope’s principle is critical: A little truth is a dangerous thing; because if we lose sight of the big picture, that little truth will make us very unsympathetic toward many who truly are wounded.

Jesus said that if anyone causes one of the "little ones" to stumble, it would be appropriate if a millstone were tied around his neck and he were drowned. Jesus didn’t say that, if any of the little ones are so wimpy that they get bent out of shape because of what’s been done to them, they should have a millstone tied around their neck and be drowned.

And why didn’t He say that? Because spiritual injury isn’t just a choice.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor

I’d completed a hike around the boardwalk at Lake Lotus Park (on the north side of SR 414) when I happened upon Gary, one of the park rangers, who was shuttling people from the parking lot on the south side of SR 414, giving them a ride in the park’s Disney-like people-mover trailer.

"We saw a bear as we came into the park," Gary told me. It’s on the right side of the road just before you get to the gate." A bear sounded exciting enough for me, so I made a beeline for the park entrance.

"font-size: 9pt">When I arrived, Frank, another park ranger, was there with his camera. And, sure enough, there was the bear, not more than a hundred feet from the road. Frank estimated that she weighed about two hundred and twenty-five pounds.

For the next fifteen minutes, the two rangers, some ten people on the trailer and I watched the bear and her two-year-old cub. (I know the age only because the park rangers told me.)

It amazes me that less than a mile from my house in a built-up area lives a bear and her cub. In fact, at night the duo visits our subdivision, checking to see what goodies may be hidden in the garbage bags of those residents who put their refuse out the night before collection.

Ranger Frank pointed out that there were two highly unfortunate things about the mother bear. The first was that in her right ear was a red tag. That means she has been captured in some situation that put her disconcertingly close to humans. Too close for the comfort of the authorities who oversee such things.

The second unfortunate thing was that in her left ear was a similar red tag, meaning that she was a repeat offender. There will be no third tag. With bears, as with baseball players, it’s three strikes and you’re out. The difference is that the baseball player will bat another time.

A three-strikes bear will be euthanized.