Second Sunday of Advent (Year B, RCL)

When I fear a dystopian future, I hold on to stories of everyday resistance.

It is noisy out there.

His followers realized there was no quick exit from the discomfort of his words.

There is a clear distinction between being comfortable and receiving comfort.

We gave our readers a one-word writing prompt: “Wind.”

The translators hope that “the colonial language that was forced upon us can now serve our people in a good way.”

Mysterious truth in fiction and in reality

Advent calls us to take the myths of Christianity seriously.

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

There is comfort, and then there is comfort.

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

Both Elijah and Peter face a stark reality: fear.

For a long time, Luther's hometown lay forgotten.

My words feel small. Like I’m trying to beat back the ocean with a stick. I could command the waves to stop, but the sea will keep pounding the sand. Recent world events have generated a lot of fodder for preachers and writers, and yet I have nothing to say. 

Nowadays, if we hear the word "holy" outside church, it’s usually in the expression “holier than thou.” The phrase is reserved for pompous religious know-it-alls who think they’re better at Christianity than everyone else. The title fits individuals who desperately need to re-read what the Bible says about humility.

Holiness is a murky word.