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A Smidgeon of Religion

Tony Thomas

 FormatISBN Price  
This Book is Available Paperback (6x9)9781434323293 $ 9.90  
About the Book

A preacher by calling, a volunteer coach by passion and a humorist by nature, Tony Thomas takes a whimsical look at life in A Smidgeon of Religion.   Tony Thomas writes a weekly column for The Paper of Wabash County, The Pharos-Tribune (www.pharostribune.com/localcolumnists) and The Paper of Montgomery County.  A wordsmith and storyteller at heart, Thomas relays a modern parable to his readers, weaving in A Smidgeon of Religion in  a non-threatening way.

About the Author

     Tony Thomas is the Preaching Minister at the Woodland Heights Christian Church in Crawfordsville, IN (www.whcc.us).  In his spare time he coaches basketball at Crawfordsville High School, is an active member of the Crawfordsville Rotary Club, and writes a weekly column for three Indiana newspapers.  Married for 35 years, Tony and Christie Thomas are the parents of three grown daughters (Angela, Ashley and Abbie), two sons-in-law (Bobby and Steve), and grandparents to Emma, Marshall and Gabe.

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Think outside the urn

 An urn was found last winter in the back seat of a Buick in Charleston, SC.  It wasn’t intended to be Izetta Dickerson’s final resting place, but that’s where her cremated remains were found.  The car had been towed to a repair shop where, several days later, there she was in all her glory.   

After a brief investigation, authorities discovered that Dickerson’s remains had been entrusted to her son.  During a move involving the owner of the Buick, she was inadvertently misplaced.  When Dickerson’s daughter discovered how carelessly her brother had handled her mother’s remains, she claimed them and arranged for a fitting finale.

“Art From Ashes” is a web company that incorporates a teaspoon of pet or human “cremains” into luminous artwork (www.artfromashes.com).  Cremation has become a more popular funeral option in recent years, thanks in part to the rising costs of dying.  Some family members, searching for personalized ways to remember loved ones, have turned to online businesses to meet the demand.

Cremated remains can be preserved in a plethora of ways:  in hand-blown glass ornaments, diamonds, oil paintings containing flecks of ash, charm bracelets, wind chimes, picture frames and walking sticks.  You can even purchase a gift certificate for that hard-to-buy loved one.  One grieving husband whose wife was a “Wizard of Oz” fan arranged to preserve his wife’s “cremains” in the form of sparkling ruby slippers.

When you read through the Bible one of the things you can’t escape is the care and dignity with which people buried their dead.  For example, Genesis 23 records the story of Abraham purchasing the Cave of Machpelah as a burial plot for his family.  That cave became the final resting place not only for himself and his wife, but each succeeding generation.

Decades later, after Joseph moved his family to Egypt, he made plans for his own burial.  When he saw the end approaching, Joseph called for his sons, instructing them to bury his corpse in the family plot in order to rest with his fathers.

25 years ago my maternal grandmother suddenly passed away while visiting family in Atlanta, GA.  Just as suddenly, my six aunts and uncles began to argue over who would bear the costs of burial.  Grandma’s six children decided on cremation and my mother flew her remains home to Oklahoma for burial.

Traveling in the 80s was relatively simple with no searches, no declarations, and no security.  My mother simply boarded the plane with Grandma’s ashes in a cardboard box.  Halfway home the gentleman seated next to her started making small conversation which eventually led to an innocuous question:  “What do you have in the box?” he asked.

Why couldn’t my mother have simply said, “Ruby slippers?”  A stranger’s innocent request is no reason to unload the whole, gruesome truth – but she couldn’t help herself.  Without batting an eye she looked straight into his eyes and said, “My mother.”

When it comes to cremation, the Bible is silent.  Too bad my mother didn’t follow suit.


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