Nothing can violate my commitment to protecting and securing life through acts of love and compassion. So, if the state chooses to kill me, it is not the end for me; it is only the beginning.

“Retirement is the filthiest word in the language. Whether by choice or by fate, to retire from what you do – and what you do makes you what you are – is to back up into the grave.” -Hemingway-

by James E. Copple In 1960, I was 10 years old and living in the Ruskin Heights suburb of Kansas City, an idyllic community occupied mostly by veterans of World War II and Korea. The houses were all the same, with public parks and well-lit streets, and the neighborhood kids would gather on long summer […]

By James E Copple It seemed like big trouble at the time, but a battle about bologna sandwiches ended up being the foundation of a legacy I cherish. I was in fourth grade, and we were scratch-farmers living in Lee’s Summit, a Missouri suburb of Kansas City. We had a few horses, four pigs, about […]

By James E. Copple Alcohol has become a “hot topic” in circles of faith – the absolutes about alcohol consumption that kept us sheltered in the moralistic teachings of our ancestors are all but gone or at least ridiculed, and young people ask, “why not?” Therefore, the issues and consequences of alcohol use are surfacing […]

By James E. Copple Every holiday season for the past 20 years, I have chosen a theme that helps me focus on the meaning and joy of Christmas. This year, I chose motherhood with a particular focus on Mary, the mother of Jesus. Resonating through my reflection is the message – every mother counts. Scholars […]

by James E. Copple In February of 1966, my father announced to the family that we were moving from Kansas City to Seattle. I was sixteen-years-old and a Junior in High School. This was devastating news in so many ways. I was new in the faith, a football player in the local high school and […]

Bullying dominates many discussions lately. A new movie, numerous public service announcements, and various campaigns to stop the madness have caught my attention.

It was 1958 and I was 8 years old.  The United States was still a nation divided.  The racial conflict found its expression in Jim Crow laws.  In the South, you could still see signs of Whites Only and separate water fountains for Negroes and Whites.  It was in this environment that I found myself in Tupelo, Mississippi with my father, […]