Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany (Year C, RCL)

The church at Corinth had many problems. Some simple kindness would have helped.

At Cana, Jesus asks Mary, "What is this to me and to you?" It is very important that the church hear this question.

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.

Luke grounds the resurrection narrative in tangible details: the rock-hewn tomb, the linen cloth, the heavy stone, the fragrant spices. The reader can imagine the place and time. Then things fall off the map.

To be a follower of the one who promised that the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed is to expect a blessed in-breaking of peace.

How can Paul navigate the choppy waters of a pagan environment, with its idols and temples? The obvious place to start is the Shema.

Some years ago, on the day before All Saints’ Day, the country’s best distance runners met in Central Park. These included two old friends, Ryan Hall and Ryan Shay.

While Christian scholars have long questioned body-soul dualism, it remains common in church circles. This may finally be changing.

Each week my church includes a prayer for the families of American soldiers who have died. As the names are read, I try to hold them in prayer. But I have wrestled with these prayers.

History is written by the winners, and Judas didn't win.

Whereas my most “prophetic” sermons are in the imperative mood, Jesus preaches in the indicative.