The Paths of Transition
I was sitting in the parking lot of the cemetery when my niece called to discuss her wedding which is this weekend.
I was sitting in the parking lot of the cemetery when my niece called to discuss her wedding which is this weekend.
It was almost nine pm when I dropped off a friend at the church parking lot and noticed a car in the driveway. Initially alarmed, I quickly noticed a person behind the shrubs weeding and pruning the flower beds around the chapel.
This week our brothers and sisters in Christ who are Southern Baptist debated yet again if women would be called as pastors and elders.
At the last minute, a friend invited me to the Kauffman Center to hear the famous cellist Yo Yo Ma in a “community conversation.”
This morning some are rejoicing, and some are lamenting a jury’s verdict. But on Sunday we gather at a table with those who disagree with us to break bread together.
When I arrived at Yale Divinity School the famous author and Catholic priest Henri Nouwen had retired from teaching and moved north to a different ministry context. However one of the staff members at the Divinity School still managed Father Nouwen’s finances.
A return to the rhythm of the ordinary sometimes feels sacred. Whether the extraordinary event feels joyful like a wedding or burdensome like a pandemic, our energy shifts to accomplishing this feat.
The word “Bread” appears in the Bible 325 times. Wine, 303 times. When I decided to preach on “Sharing Bread and Wine” I was surprised by the plethora of choices from Genesis to Revelation.
We checked in to KU hospital early in the morning where my husband Dave was scheduled for surgery. One of the pastors from our church stopped by to pray with us in the waiting room.
As I depart the church one evening, I notice the dappled hues of crimson, indigo, and emerald dancing on the stone floor.
Jesus rose from the dead and then what? He didn’t move back to Jerusalem, rent a condo and return to carpentry and preaching.
Tulley Beard is my delightful assistant and our very talented Director of Administration. Monday she brought a pair of “eclipse” glasses and suggested that during our Monday business meeting, we step outside to watch the moon pass in front of the sun.
There’s an old riddle about the math of Lent, which you may recall measures forty days in length, corresponding to Jesus’ forty days of testing in the wilderness.
Death stole my grandmother from me during Spring break of my 4th grade year. My heart ached as it dawned on me that we would never again go fishing together.
Why did Jesus ride triumphantly into the holy city with joyful shouts of praise from the crowds and then a few days later breathe his last breath in agony on a cross? How could Jesus say on the cross, “Father forgive them?” And what are we to make of an empty tomb Read More...