I got to spend last week with some colleagues in Dayton – sadly in the news this morning for a deadly mass shooting last night blocks from where we were working on one relatively small book in the Bible, Hosea. We told it to each other. We picked it apart...
“Tigers” a poem by Eliza Griswold What are we now but voiceswho promise each other a lifeneither one can delivernot for lack of wantingbut wanting won’t make it soWe cling to a vineat the cliff’s edge.There are tigers aboveand below. Let us loveone another and let go.” Once, there were...
One goes on pilgrimage expecting life changing moments. Through a controlled series of “adverse” circumstances, each person is challenged to adjust to radical time changes that affect sleep patterns, not always knowing whether the sun is up or down, eating at different times of the day and from different cuisines,...
So, this is the last Sunday in Stuart’s 2019 Sabbatical and he will be back in the office this week and celebrating and preaching next week. As we on staff and on vestry prepared for this critical time away, we fully expected Stuart to have a rich time, and to...
Hearing voices that other people can’t hear is considered to be a sign of serious mental illness. Ironically, even amongst us Episcopalians it is not unheard of for someone to make reference to “hearing God” talk to them. And once a year we use this text from Acts to mark...
During one summer in seminary, I worked in a theological college in a country in east Africa. It was the worst summer ever. And I think about it every day. Whatever capacity I have to sit with you in times of pain or mystery is largely because of that summer...
Every family has an event that defines its history: “That was before Uncle Billy went to prison or that was after Cousin Sally ran off with the vacuum cleaner salesman.” And it is so tempting the make the worst day in our lives the most significant day. But, the significance...
Today’s reflection is the first of a three-part reflection, that will continue at the Great Vigil of Easter and on Easter Sunday morning. Perhaps we could take advantage of this Holy Week space to meditate a bit longer. This morning, the best I want to place a series of images...
But when he came to himself he said . . . I am dying here of hunger. . . I will get up and go to my father. It is hard not to read today’s Gospel account of what is traditionally known as “the prodigal son,” and not immediately frame...
When I was a child, it was quite clear to me that God was an old white man who sat on a cloud. He—and it was always He—had made the world and then slipped away to monitor from a distance. He had very good eyesight or a very strong telescope...