Weeping, Confession, Resistance Without weeping we’ll never get to confession, and without confession we’ll never build an effective resistance.
Remembering, Forgetting and the “F” Bomb Any alternative narrative, any liberating vision, has to engage in an imaginative act of forgetting … and remembering.
The Gospel in Dangerous Times A battle of stories, a conflict of myths. Everything hangs on the outcome. This is a matter of life and death. So which side are you on?
The Kingdom of God is an Invasive Species The kingdom of God is plucky. It will not be rooted out. It will provide sustenance and home for those you’ve ignored, and those you've pushed to the side.
Beyond Smugness: The Beatitudes Again If we can be smug about this radical teaching of Jesus, then we demonstrate in our very smugness that we don’t get it.
Revoicing the Psalms: Psalm 3 A day is coming // and that day has surely come // when the beat of the accusers // will be drowned out by // the rhythm of love.
Pentecost and the Blasphemy of “America First” “America First” means creation last. “America First” means God last. “America First” means the Spirit last. "America First" is a blasphemy against the Holy Spirit.
Worship, Doubt and Ascension Worship without doubt is the posture of idolatry, the faith of an ideology. True worship not only welcomes doubt, it requires doubt.
Revoicing the Psalms: Psalm 2 The God who has died a thousand deaths / will die a thousand more / each time embracing the grave / as one more chance to love. // Revoicing Psalm 2
Revoicing the Psalms: Psalm 1 Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, who refuse to deny God’s invitation to shalom.
By the Rivers of our Fundamentalist Captivity By the rivers of our fundamentalist captivity we sat down and wept, and wept. And when we could weep no more, tears dried in the sun, we leapt. Preaching the poetry of protest, snarling songs of salvation.
Easter! Too Good to be True? What if the story that scripture tells isn’t a fairy tale… what if instead, all fairy tales are resonating with and hinting at this singular real story that shapes our history? What if we’re created to long for these stories, to recognize them as familiar?