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Articles by Duncan Perry
Church Talk: A Better Country
The cold stone slabs of the New England cemetery stood somber under the bright hard woods that littered the ground with golden leaves. My wife and I meandered through, reading the short messages of the lives that once were and now rest in the dust beneath. It may not seem romantic to you, but these are the things we do when given the chance, reading the last words of short lives. As a believer in Jesus, I pay close attention to the theology of those words.
Church Talk: Removing the Mask Original
Like most young boys, I had a fascination with pretending during my childhood. This fascination always bloomed when the leaves started to swirl in the fall breeze. In a world of trick-or-treating and fall festivals, each year presented me with the fresh opportunity to decide who or what I would become. Although most of my life I have worn the yellow, chevroned shirt of Charlie Brown, a nod to my lifelong hero, my earlier years saw much diversity.
Church Talk: Removing the Mask
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Church Talk: Living among the Dead
My feet found the familiar path around our neighborhood. As a creature of deep habits, I often do not venture from my regular rhythms. When I made my circuit around a certain bend in the road, I was stunned by what stood before me. There, rising from a hedge, was a 10-foot skeleton, with glowing eyes and a hand stretching toward me. Although startled, I pressed on, only to find that this was merely one such sight.
Church Talk: Living God's Way
The glass surface of the pond stretched into the tree line acres away with a stillness that made it difficult to tell where the water ended and the trees began. I stood on the dock with a borrowed fishing pole and a pocket full of extra hooks and lures with a singular agenda: to convince a fish that what I offered was what they wanted, to deceive them. As I cast and reeled, looking down into the water, I could see pike, bass, and bream flash their bellies as they took a bite.
Church Talk: God's View of Desire
I rounded the bottom of our staircase and heard my wife’s voice. With every step, I could feel the truth behind what she was about to tell me. As I approached the landing, our eyes met. Concerned, she said simply, “It’s hot up here.” Have you ever found yourself desiring something you lack that someone else has? Maybe you were like me and wanted a working HVAC system to cool your home like your neighbors’ homes that surrounded you. Desire is not an inherently evil thing.
Church Talk: Truth on God's Terms
The seriousness of the Tampa courtroom scene held a solemn grip on most of the nightly news viewers. However, one segment of the population watched, bewildered. Nearly a decade ago, a volunteer courtroom ASL interpreter waved her hands into the TV cameras, giving the appearance of confidence. Although many were duped by her act, those in the audience who knew sign language wondered how she got to where she was. In almost every form of communication, she had lied.
Church Talk: God’s View of Ownership
The unattractive, velvet brown wallet filled the inside of my fanny pack. It was a hand-me-down gift from my papa. Inside, I had stuffed all the money I had received that year for my tenth birthday. On a long trip, I forgot my fanny pack for five minutes in the lavatory on an international flight. That was five minutes too long. Theft is an offense to God. This is because ownership is derivative, which means that it begins and ends with God.
Church Talk: Freedom to Love God’s Way
The slushy slog of a mid-October nor’easter swirled outside the familiar brick walls that I had called home for 16 years. But inside, the atmosphere could not have been more different. After three decades of difficult waiting, I married my wife, Haley. As I watched her walk down the aisle, emotions welled up from down deep. Marriage was never promised to us. It is not promised to anyone. However, God graciously wrote Haley into the story He had for my life.
Church Talk: Freedom to Enjoy God’s Promise
The overhead console light shone a spotlight on my dad’s hat. It was a wide-breamed Fedora, much like Indiana Jones wore, the perfect size for concealing a small gift. As my parents climbed out of the vehicle momentarily to talk with friends, they commanded me with utmost severity not to peek under the hat. Unfortunately, being the sinner that I was and am, I disobeyed. Do you remember disobeying your parents or guardians?
Church Talk: Freedom to Enjoy God
The life of a pastor is not glamorous. Bible teacher Bruce Thielemann explained, “There is no special honor in being called to preaching ministry. There is only special pain.” Sundays roll around and burdens pile up. As one of my favorite volunteers laughingly says, “These days of rest will kill you!” The steady pull and pressure of shepherding sinners like me reminds me weekly that I need a Shepherd to provide rest, too. Have you felt the exhaustion of Sunday mornings?
Church Talk: Freedom to Call on God
Our final day of instruction at Basic Leadership Course drew to a close. Around the room, freshly minted Navy chaplains sat in their khaki uniforms soaking in the reality of the past seven weeks. The Marine Staff Sergeant who led our course in field exercises and physical training briefed us from the front of the room.
Church Talk: Freedom to Know God
Last October, when my wife and I were married, the context was clear. We were surrounded by our family and friends in the presence of God to commit our lives to loving each other in self-giving ways for life. In that covenant, there is freedom. Outside the perimeter of our promises to the Lord and each other, there is only bondage. Sin makes us slaves to ourselves. Fast-forward eight months. Haley and I were serving at our favorite Christian youth camp.
Church Talk: Walking in Freedom
For over a decade, I have made the nearly four-hour drive to Mountain Top Youth Camp in Pinnacle, North Carolina. Year-after-year, the journey grows increasingly delightful. Although the group changes, the joy and anticipation are steady. We enjoy snacks, conversation, and reminiscing about the past. We have shared sorrows and deep gladness. This year, as we made our way up the final winding ascent, I looked to our left and noticed a sharp turn that went up the mountain. That is the one-way exit.
Church Talk: A Heart to Love
Bible school and seminary students may recall the familiar shuffle to the mailbox to find wedding invitations from classmates. That was my story during my season in Dallas. The old rusted door would groan as I wrenched it away from our apartment’s ancient postal box. There they sat, stuffed among the advertisements, a beacon of authentic love in a stormy sea of empty promises.
Church Talk: Taste and See
Years ago, as an undergraduate biology student at Coastal Carolina, I had the privilege of fulfilling several internships with a number of dental health professionals. One summer, while observing oral surgeries, I entered an operating room and noticed a distinct odor. As the surgeon positioned the patient’s head, he motioned for me to come closer. In horror, I peered into the patient’s mouth to see that his tastebuds had been stretched out.
Church Talk: Eyes to See
My back met the ground as the crunch of leaves and twigs splintered the night. Having woken minutes earlier in need of the outhouse, I had shuffled out of my summer camp bunk without my glasses. In desperation, I fumbled towards the familiar orange glow of the ancient outhouse light bulb atop a nearby hill. A few minutes later, on my way back to my bunk, I tripped and tumbled down the hill. Blinking, I sat up bewildered. I was lost. Have you ever been blinded to reality, friend?
Church Talk: Ears to Hear
Sweat streamed down my forehead as our varsity soccer team battled the brutality of August weather. We were in the throes of a disappointing season. Having talent, but not unity, games were long and unforgiving. In the middle of a difficult match up with a conference rival, the referee blew his whistle to stop the play. We watched as one of our opponents continued to dribble furiously down the field. Players tried to stop him. Finally, his coach yelled.
Church Talk: Unending Joy
My dad unwrapped his final birthday gift, a nondescript cardboard box holding a folded scrap of paper. On the paper was a scribbled note describing the picture inside. For his seventieth birthday, my siblings and I had reserved a lodge big enough for our entire family near some of his favorite trout fishing holes. The entire endeavor was done discreetly and presented as a surprise.
Church Talk: Concerning Himself
Winding roads led us to a mountain inn perched on a hilltop in Western North Carolina where my wife and I would stay for a single night while I spoke at a missions conference. In my self-confidence, I assured her that I had booked us a wonderful room.
Church Talk: The Conquering King
After putting it off for weeks, I finally went to the DMV last week. Walking through the door, I was handed a clipboard and sent to a sea of chairs and faces waiting on the weary line of clerks. I filled out my forms and clutched a slip of paper with a call number on it. I watched the monitors feverishly. After about thirty minutes, the automated voice called my number. I approached the counter, only to be cut off by a burly man in cowboy boots. I stood, stunned.
Church Talk: The Crucified King
Death shapes every life. It is the dark shadow that casts itself upon the brightest spots of our lives. It is the cancer at the core of every fear we face. It is the payout our sins deserve. Each of us can turn to encounters with death that crushed us. For me, it was the death of my grandma. In the dead of Winter 2013, my grandma died. She had been pivotal in God’s plan for our family’s upbringing. She moved onto our farm in the mid-1990s and became central to our lives.
Church Talk: The Commemorating King
I quaked before a panel of three professors. I had sat through countless lectures learning Scripture from them during my five years at Dallas Seminary. But four years later, as they peppered me with questions, my memory failed me. The words tumbled from my humbled lips, “I don’t remember.” I am a forgetful person. I write notes on my phone, my calendar, even my hands. But sometimes, my memory fails me. If you are like me, remembering can be a struggle.
Church Talk: The Cleansing King
“Who did this?!” My mama’s voice splintered the fibers of every wall in our home. I walked out of my bedroom into the hallway where I could see smoke billowing from our oven. As I approached, I investigated the oven to see the charred remains of my fast-food cheeseburger, complete with melted wrapper. The smoky remains of my sin lingered long after the oven had been scooped. Have misplaced affections burned a hole in your life, friend? Perhaps it was an addiction that drove away loved ones.
Church Talk: The coming King
Years ago, I was stationed briefly at Operational Training Command in Newport, Rhode Island. Our class was a ragtag group of former enlistees, pastors, intelligence personnel, and government operators trying to work together to survive as Naval officers. Several of our chaplains struggled. They forgot Naval customs and expectations. They did not feel like they fit in well. And perhaps the clearest example from this group is writing this column.
Column: The prayer of the willing
In an instant, I can relive moments of pure dread when I remember the times I was punished most severely. In almost every situation, I deserved it. The time that my dad watched through the kitchen window as I punched my sister’s shoulder — punished. The time I unintentionally killed my brother’s rabbit — punished. The list is long. However, one time stands out. On one occasion, our church had just remodeled the bathroom.
Church Talk: The Prayer of the Double-crossed
In the waning months of my senior year of high school, my friends and I endeavored to finish one of our final projects, a scaled-down model of Shakespeare’s Globe Theater. On one occasion, an early Saturday morning, I knocked on my friends’ garage door. The taunting voice of a schoolmate who had recently betrayed me lilted through the door as I begged to be let in. His familiar sarcasm burned, “Is that you, Duncan? Sorry, I can’t hear you…” With the others still asleep, I gave up and went to work.
Church Talk: The prayer of the disenchanted
When I was in school at Dallas, I went to chapel and saw a familiar face on the projector screen. It was a woman I had seen in magazines and on book covers. I had listened to a few of her lessons in Sunday school. She shared with us part of her life story. She was a lovely, athletic girl who lived in the Chesapeake Bay area of Maryland. During high school, she attended a Christian youth retreat where she made a commitment to trusting and following Jesus.
Church Talk: The prayer of the dejected
“CANCELED.” The red capital letters stamped across our flight itinerary. With them, all hopes melted away of landing in Myrtle Beach before this historical snowstorm. I stood, stunned. My mind reeled. What would we do? What could we do? Why did this happen? Have you ever faced a situation like this, friend? Have you felt the pinch of watching well-planned schemes come crashing down?
Church Talk: The prayer for the pitiful
Dim hospital lighting fell on a familiar face. Though multiple days of critical care had taken its toll, this beloved patient whispered my name. I leaned in to speak to her, amazed at her ability to form words through cracked lips that had endured the struggles of intubation. In those quiet moments, our dear friend said with a hushed plea, “Pray for me, pastor. Pray for me.” Have you ever been there, friend? Looking into the eyes of a person plagued with pain, have you fumbled for words?
Church Talk: The prayer of the merciless
“Today, I would like to share with you my testimony of God’s grace.” The familiar twang of Western North Carolina that had defined many of my earliest and fondest memories of church attendance landed on my ears. My childhood pastor, Randy Riddle, has become one of my dearest friends over the years, especially since my entering full-time ministry. I listened from across the table as he recounted to the Conway Reformation Society the many ways the Lord uniquely pursued him.
Church Talk: The prayer of the helpless
My stomach dropped when I heard the first screams. They were barely audible over the roaring churn of the Nolichucky River that swept around our waists. My younger brother and I stumbled across the stream to the place where we had last seen our older brother’s family on their innertubes. We prayed as we moved in the direction of a fallen tree in a riverbend. Apart from God’s grace and mercy, we were helpless. Have you ever been in a similar situation, friend?
God's plans for his people in the New Year
The days following Christmas have always felt dreary. Since I was a little boy, I have found the week between Christmas Day and New Years Day to be disorienting. Often, I struggled to keep track of the calendar, losing sight of what day of the week it was or what our family’s plans might be. But there was also a dampening of cheerfulness, a loss of anticipation. Christmas came and went, and with it, all wonder. If you share that same sorrow, that sense of sadness is noteworthy.
Church Talk: Christmas for Bathsheba
Snow fell softly outside a counting house one Christmas Eve. Inside, two men huddled: Bob Cratchit fought the bitterness of winter cold, struggling to stay warm at his desk; Ebenezer Scrooge clutched the bitterness of an unredeemed heart that knew nothing of warmth, inside or out. Shooing a choir of beggar children from the doorway, Scrooge sent Bob, his faithful employee, into the winter wind to face the bitter realities of an impoverished home.
Church Talk: Christmas for Ruth
Along the Danish coast there was a dreary fishing village called Norre Vosburg. A small church gathered there, pastored by an aged widower who had two lovely, musically gifted daughters. The pastor preached often of God’s grace. However, as familiar as the village was with the concept, they knew little of grace in their living. They wore no color. They did not laugh or eat flavorful foods. The two daughters were sought by suitors — one a rising military officer, the other a French opera singer.
Church Talk: Christmas for Rahab
Charlie Brown shuffled through the snow and slumped onto the stepstool in front of Lucy Van Pelt’s 5-cent psychiatric booth. Looking for a nickel’s worth of help, Charlie Brown shared his deep distress: He did not understand the true meaning of Christmas. Perhaps you find a kindred spirit this Christmas season in Shulz’s weary hero, Charlie Brown. We all do sometimes. But maybe you find yourself living in that space of listlessness, looking for the true purpose to life.
Christmas for Tamar | Opinion | myhorrynews.com
Nobody in the little town of Emmanuel was prepared for the local church’s annual Christmas pageant director to become incapacitated mere weeks before the nativity play’s debut. A timid volunteer, Mrs. Bradley, offered her assistance, promising that the play would not only go on, but that it would be “the best Christmas pageant ever!” If the little town was unprepared for the director’s accidental slip and Mrs.
Church Talk: Crushing Comparison
The lingering snow cast shadows in the pink February sunset of Newport, RI. I shuffled along, sifting through the frustrations within my heart. I relived the conversation with my commanding officer, asking if he had some sort of leverage to alleviate the issues of my rank and pay. I watched as my classmates enjoyed the benefits of both, while I sank ever deeper in discouragement. Comparison crushes contentment and forsakes felt joy.
Who He is | Opinion | myhorrynews.com
We watched as the parking lot filled and emptied around us. Waves of vehicles came and left. To our left, two grocery store attendants piled the inside of a sedan with provisions. The same thing happened in front of us. We had waited in the grocery pick-up spot for more than an hour when a young attendant approached our truck. “Y’all have had a busy night,” I said. “Food stamps are back,” he said with a steady smile. “We serviced over 1,000 orders today.” Every person is hungry.
Church Talk: One thing I know
The room blurred as I removed my contact lenses and dropped them in the trash can. This is perhaps my least favorite aspect of an annual eye examination. Vulnerability and self-consciousness flood my mind as I remember how poor my deteriorating vision is. I fumbled to my seat as I awaited my turn among the blind. Sin — that which displeases in what we say, think, or do — blinds us spiritually.
The first stone
My ears burned as my blood boiled and chest tightened. My eyes traced the words of the letter. I put it back in the envelope, then in a drawer. I would reread it often over the next week. The letter, written by a person who had deeply wounded me, glossed over any potential opportunity for reconciliation. Instead, the author promoted themselves, pretending to be a sort of unsung hero. I trembled.
At His word | Opinion | myhorrynews.com
The rugged landscapes of Yosemite National Park flooded our eyes as we stood, awestruck at the creation before us. My wife, Haley, and I had planned this trip for several months, eager to see the iconic trademarks “El Capitan” and “Half Dome” two monstrous granite precipices that frame the Yosemite Valley. We made our way down the winding mountain pass to the valley entrance.
Church Talk: The outsiders
We milled around outside the door of the cramped portable classroom waiting for the choir director to relieve us from the late-August heat. I had recently been elected the president of the student government. One of my goals was to learn every student’s name in our small Christian school. In that frenzied moment, a new face emerged from the crowd, a cheerful eighth-grader who introduced herself. I welcomed her to our school. The door opened and the cloud of students dissipated into choir practice.
Church Talk: A Cast of Unknown Characters
As a child, one of my least favorite aspects of any film was the opening credits. The long list of actors, screenwriters and producers rolled on for what felt like hours. As the names slipped on and off the screen, I would often make last-minute trips to the kitchen, bathroom or almost anywhere else. I despised wasting my life looking at the litany of those whom I considered unimportant.
Church Talk: All things for good
“All things work together for good, David,” my great-grandma Vera stated with confidence. She was not alone. Throughout my dad’s young life, he was under the impression that this was the full thrust of Paul’s words to the Roman believers. However, when we come to this verse in context, what we find is not a blanket promise that covers all people from the cold realities of life in a sin-shattered universe.
Church Talk: Train up a child
I leaned against the low countertop of the chemistry lab where I was preparing to teach my fourth class of the day. I did not normally open the windows, but with the wonderful weather outside, I figured it would be a treat for everyone. Moments after the bell rang, I heard a shuffling coming from the back of the lab. I looked up from my notes and locked eyes with one of my students who had decided to attend class by climbing in through the window.
Church Talk: Judge not
Fury filled my classmate’s eyes. What would have otherwise been a routine dialogue turned into a disaster. Matters of human sexuality tend to be a sensitive topic regardless of the setting. In this case, however, there seemed to be an extra measure of heat. Words were exchanged. Battle lines were drawn.
Church Talk: I can do all things
I was never considered a threat on the basketball court. My awkward, 5-foot-10-inch, 125-pound frame was easily bullied under the backboard. I often tossed shots up in fear, rushing to get rid of the ball before the defense found me. However, several weeks into our JV season, I decided that the greatest need in my basketball career was not conditioning or drills, it was shoes. If I could find a good pair of basketball shoes, I could do anything.
Church Talk: Bruised and snuffed
The tapping at my bedroom door pushed the hopes of sleep beyond my grasp. I rolled off my bed and shuffled through the dark to fumble for the latch. The rental house my family had found in a holler in East Tennessee felt foreign to me after a seven-hour drive. I finally pulled the door open to find my niece staring at me, wide-eyed and desperate, “There’s a bug.” Have you ever sensed the frustration that comes from exhaustion and interrupted rest?
Church Talk: Responding rightly
The plane was crowded. I took my seat near the front. Dozens of people shuffled by with stories, weighed down by the burdens of life. A flight attendant passed by, noticing the Bethany Bible Chapel logo on my pullover. “It’s a shame what’s happening in West Texas,” she said wearily. Since we were flying to Dallas, I wondered how many passengers had been impacted by the flash flooding along the Guadalupe River. I nodded, “It’s a tragedy.” She continued, “People keep saying that this is God’s will.
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