Second Sunday of Advent (Year 2, NL)

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.

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. 

The son of a truck driver, I like highways and image of travel. Checking The New Interpreter’s Bible Dictionary's entry about roads and highways, I learned that a messila was a built-up road, intentionally constructed and improved, while a derekh (Num. 20:17, 19, Judg. 21:19) was a path was formed because of constant use and thus had become a road.

As the second Sunday in advent approaches, I find the prophets of the season compelling. To my ears, their message sounds pretty consistent: "Change the ways of this world."

I'm afraid I want the good news of Christmas without the challenge.