Mark

Jesus wasn't popular.

Who tests Abraham, or Jacob, or Jesus—and why?

It's Advent, and accusations against prominent men are shaking things up like a highway construction project in the wilderness.

Each January the lectionary invites us to remember the invisible network of faith.

In Flint, we know something about nostalgia and despair—and hope.

The Gospel reading speaks of the world ending. For some people in the pews, it is.

In the late 70s, two friends of mine housesat for the poet James Merrill—and got out his Ouija board.

Jesus isn’t pitting himself against poor people. He’s one of them.

Jesus isn’t pitting himself against poor people. He’s one of them.

Until Christians can all share the Lord’s Supper, the rift continues. But there is no denying how massively the ground has shifted.

Being religious is not about following rules. It's more like dancing.

In Mark 5, a hemorrhaging woman meets a permeable savior.

The prayers of the people call us. When we answer, we invite the possibility that it is we who will be poor, hungry, sick, and in prison.

What the people see in Jesus is more than raw power.

Did Jesus mean that all the things we mean by accomplishment, and maturity, and reason, and progress, are actually small niggling things that we must finally shuck and lay aside, in order to again be like children, spiritually open and emotionally naked and constantly liable to giggling?

Congregations often cater to those who show up and pay the bills. But as Jesus said, we need new wineskins to hold new wine.

Even before my first cup of coffee, I often turn the radio on to check the weather report for the day: will I need an umbrella? Should I take an extra jacket? Looking around for my coffee cup, I barely hear the voice in the background: "The sun will be darkened; and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken."

Really? Maybe I should just go back to bed.

Here's to all the people who give their last coin.

The unnamed disciple in Mark 13:1 would have been impressed not only by the temple’s splendor, but by what it represented: God’s presence with Israel. Jesus’ reply must have astounded him.