Sunday’s Coming

We are surrounded by wastelands. God promises new life.

Harriet Tubman’s visions seemed, to her, to be glimpses of glory.

Even as we seek practical solutions to our problems, we cannot afford to abandon the beliefs and spiritual practices that undergird us.

So many stewardship sermons use the woman of Mark 12—lamentably—as an example of the kind of generosity to which we all should aspire.

Ruth offers a striking contrast to the chaos and moral ambiguity of the judges era.

Jesus’ question to Martha extends to all believers.

There is a tearing at the social fabric when Bartimaeus cries to Jesus.

Job experiences awe at God’s response, but not necessarily peace.

When the world is in peril and the rich are to blame, such preaching becomes essential.

Jesus’ blessing of the children and re-centering them in the midst of the community serves as a sort of Pride parable.

Jesus seems to have an aversion to the kind of us-and-them boundary setting of his disciples.

Poor disciples. They rarely miss an opportunity to make a mess.

When is a pastor obliged to speak about their own theological shifts? Or obliged not to?

In Mark 7, a Syrophoenician woman is apparently able to win one with him.

James is looking at the big picture.

This last reading from the bread of life discourse places Jesus’ disciples at a crossroads.

Wonder Bread seems a good analogy for much of popular Christianity.

What does it look like to be angry without sinning?

The growth and the flourishing of the body of Christ is measured by its love.

This week’s Gospel reading is profoundly delightful.