I was having coffee with a friend, discussing the strange ritual of applying to jobs online. She has been looking for a teaching position with a livable salary; I am hoping to transition away from overnight shifts as a hospital chaplain. The job search involves daily rejection. As so many of us seek meaningful work to no avail, there's a cumulative toll to not being chosen.
Each year the Gospel reading for the Seventh Sunday of Easter is taken from Jesus’ great prayer in John 17, the conclusion of his farewell discourse. Jesus invites us into what Raymond Brown describes as a "heavenly family conversation" between himself and God.
This prayer, like Jesus’ other prayers (John 11:41-42 and 12:27-28), is meant to be overheard by us.
It is the Feast of Christ the King, the final Sunday of the church’s liturgical year. All of today’s passages reflect on kingships—those of David, God and Jesus. Although Christians in America are far removed from any direct experience of a king, these passages can teach us about our own political life.
I was drying dishes and absentmindedly singing the song that had been stuck in my head for days when my husband suddenly came barreling down the staircase and into the kitchen. Looking frantic, he asked me what had happened. We were both confused; he was convinced that I had cried out in pain, and he fully expected to walk in on a grisly cooking incident.
We quickly realized the source of the miscommunication. The song I’d been singing was Lady Gaga’s “Judas,” and I sounded like a lady in distress as I belted out, “Judas, Juda-a-a.”