I, like most other US Americans not living in New Orleans or Indianapolis, have been thinking today more about the commercials from last night’s Super Bowl than the football.

I’ve been thinking this morning about Martin Luther King, Jr. Actually I’ve been thinking about him since last week when my kindergartener son whispered to me after school, "We learned about Martin Luther King."

With the start of another year, I’ve been thinking about resolutions.

I’ve been thinking about books. Actually, I think about books a lot. That’s part of what pastors are supposed to do, right? Someone visits a pastor with a problem, shares heartfelt vulnerability, and gets handed a book (off a shelf filled with books) and sent on their merry way. Well. . . hopefully that’s not how it works, but sometimes we bibliophilic pastors give that impression.

I’ve been thinking about thanks. With two days left before Thanksgiving, I figure it’s about time I give it some thought.

I’ve been thinking about success. I think about it a lot actually. It’s a function of our culture and our time—particularly for us who are (to use David Brooks’s phrase) ‘meritocrats’—always striving after accomplishment as the source of our identity. I want to be a successful pastor, husband, and father. I want to be successful as a cultural consumer (i.e. watch the right TV, listen to the right bands) and as a board game player. Really I want to be successful everywhere and always.

Since I began using it about six months ago, I have developed a bit of a love-hate relationship with Google Reader. It’s become a great way for me to organize news and follow blogs. That’s the part I love.  But if I don’t stay on top of Google Reader, newsfeeds pile up and I begin to drown in unread information that (I fear) may be really important. What if I miss a crucial story?

With my son (and oldest child) five weeks into his first year of public education, I have been thinking about school. I’ve been listening to other anxious parents who, like us, have sent their firstborn off to school. And I’ve been remembering my own scholastic career—the good, the bad, and the ugly (which peaked around middle school for me).

Lately I’ve been thinking about liturgy. I know, I know—that sounds incredibly boring. The word ‘liturgy’ causes most of us to think of church services, and specifically the dry (and often alienating) routines of a particular denominational tradition. Liturgy need not be a dirty word. Etymologically, liturgy means ‘the work of the people.’ Liturgy suggests that Christianity is not just about a set of doctrinal beliefs. It is a form of shared life. That is to say, Christianity is as much what a community of people do as it is what they believe.

He gasped: 'Gandalf! I thought you were dead! But then I thought I was dead myself. Is everything sad going to come untrue? What’s happened to the world?’

I’ve been thinking about Little League. If you watch sports on TV, it was hard to avoid the Little League World Series over the last few weeks.

“Yes, there will be people that will be against giving this man a second chance and I understand that. That’s why it’s a soul-searching decision, because I don’t disagree with the feeling of some people don’t deserve a second chance. . . . There is no room for error on Michael’s part. There are no third chances and we know that. That’s the thing, if this isn’t fulfilled the way we expect it to be then that will be the end.”