Luke 23

Our culture's foundational sin is to make gods of ourselves, to find any excuse to go our own way rather than follow the Lord of life. We are weak. And yet in this Gospel story, so is Jesus.

Sacramentality is the breath of Christian life—life that springs from the sacraments and life that yearns to return to them.

When Jeanne Bishop learned of her sister's murder, she found herself saying aloud, "I don't want to hate anybody."

When Jeanne Bishop learned of her sister's murder, she found herself saying aloud, "I don't want to hate anybody."

John 13 begins with imminent betrayal, suffering, and death. Understandably, we envision the scene with somber images. But I wonder if we overlook Jesus’ joy.

This week my Century lectionary column focused on the text from Luke. Here are several threads I found useful but could not weave into the final piece.

This week my Century lectionary column focused on the text from Luke. Here are several threads I found useful but could not weave into the final piece.

We are instructed to love our enemies—not necessarily to forgive them.

We are instructed to love our enemies—not necessarily to forgive them.

Luke describes Jesus riding heroically into Jerusalem on Palm/Passion Sunday. According to archetypal imagery, is Jesus riding to heroic victory or tragic defeat?

Luke offers hints along the way that the trajectory between Palm Sunday and Good Friday is something other than utter failure, but they’re subtle hints: Jesus claims the authority to pardon even as he himself is hanging on the executioner’s cross; as he dies, he continues to discuss his kingdom and paradise.

If this Sunday's service seems crowded and discordant, there’s a historical reason for it: the lectionary readings are a combination of two different local liturgies.

We love to celebrate the peaks of Jesus' life in worship, but how often do we remain with him during the valleys of his life?

The fate of the other thief

Several years ago I attended a museum exhibit featuring the works of Vincent van Gogh. It was not an altogether pleasant experience because there was a man in my group who had a peculiar way of taking in each painting. He would stand about an inch away and then move slowly from one side to another, examining each strand of canvas, each dollop of paint. After he had scanned the entire surface of the painting, he would turn and make his way back across with his right ear about an inch away from the canvas. He examined every single painting in this manner.