Exodus 12

The lamb’s blood isn’t insurance against the wrath of God. It is a proclamation of fealty.

How can these values be lived out in our traditions and in our assemblies?

A plague is being visited on all of us, but not evenly.

Hope smells like barbecue.

I have a friend who visits his mother's burial site each year on the anniversary of her death. When the day comes, the mood is always solemn and deeply reflective--and tremendously difficult for other people in his life. What they don't know is that this annual ritual is generative, corrective. It helps anchor my friend for the rest of the year. 

I have another friend who almost never visits his parents' gravesite.

Slaughtering animals, washing feet—I can smell the rooms in both Exodus and John.