Third Sunday of Easter (Year C, RCL)
36 results found.
Jesus’ resurrected gut biome
In John’s Gospel we meet a body of flesh and blood. And microbes.
Faith comes by hand
Throughout scripture, human bodies are not an obstacle to righteousness; they are its location.
Hearing the apostle Paul’s words in a hospital stroke unit
Struck down but not destroyed, perplexed but not forsaken
May 5, Easter 3C (John 21:1-19)
It takes Jesus to introduce something new into the disciples’ routine.
In Revelation, faithful testimony is peaceable—not necessarily civil
The disruptive way of the Lamb
What does Christian vocation look like for the elderly?
God calls us to serve the world with our bodies—even when those bodies are failing.
The courage of Ananias
"I dream of walking the streets of Damascus," sighed a Syrian refugee whose radio interview I heard on my evening commute. His voice trailed off into a wistful silence. I had been engrossed in his story, but at the interview's end, my mind connected the refugee's lament and longing for a Damascus road story of long ago.
The call of Ananias
On Sunday, we hear the story from John 21 of Jesus and Peter on the beach. Jesus asks Peter three times, "Do you love me?" and three times Peter answers, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you." Then Jesus tells him, "Feed my sheep." We also hear about how Saul became the apostle Paul, on the road to Damascus. Here he was, on the way to persecute the followers of the Way, and out of the blue, Jesus speaks to him, too: "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?" There he is struck blind, and when he sees again, he has a new calling as a follower of Jesus and a missionary to the gentiles.
On one Sunday, we hear stories of two of the main characters from the New Testament. But I can't help being drawn to Ananias.
April 10, Third Sunday of Easter: John 21:1-19
As we encounter the post-resurrection Jesus in this week’s Gospel, brokenness and disappointment permeate—brokenness as thick as the morning mist off the Sea of Galilee, disappointment as pungent as the smell of fish.
Revival without tents
I can still smell the wet canvas and sawdust of my father's revivals. He believed that any self-respecting revival was held in a tent.