Lent 5, 2015

Isn’t it lifeless? Isn’t it broken-down rock, dust with some moisture? Hasn’t it been trapped, under ice and snow all this time, under underfoot? How can it be warm, have an odor, be . . . vibrant? Does this have some life? Can life be breathed in? Can it give life to this seed, cold, […]

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Lent 4, 2015

The snake was the lowest, the dirtiest, of all the creatures in God’s creation. But it was smarter than those two humans in a Garden; it only took shiny fruit and ego polishing to humble them. Those twelve tribes of humans in the desert humbled themselves, and the snakes had a meal. But God was […]

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Lent 3, 2015

“Destroy this Temple . . .” What? An act of vandalism? I would never do that. “Destroy this Temple . . .” Desecrate a holy place? I never even take coffee into church. “Destroy this Temple . . .” But it’s an institution! A landmark! I only have a problem with radicals, like you. “Destroy […]

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Lent 2, 2015

Empty, desolate: the desicated dust of desert, the frigid, frightful frostiness . . . My God, my God! Oman had cooling rains this week. In the West Michigan snow, tulips have four-centimeter sprouts. Hope in God; spring is coming. Anger, panicking: intractible ideology or vicious, vengeful violence . . . My God, my God! Charlie […]

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Lent 1, 2015

Water: crashing, rushing, lifting, tossing, drowning seeping and eroding, unstopped, because ashes marked us Wednesday; but here comes the water, unrelenting, penetrating, blessing in drops, sprinkles, dunkings, saving from death, through death, not thwarted nor denied by death: God’s love.

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A Love Song in Hungry Days

Love, coming as a baby, placed us upon a throne. Weak and self-insufficient, that Love became our own, all inhibitions shed, a meal for all creation served in the House of Bread. Love we were not expecting (though it had been foretold) finds us afraid, defensive, so angry, empty, cold and offers warmth instead: the […]

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“Just Make It a Good One”

One of my favorite lines from my favorite science fiction series, “Doctor Who,” is uttered by the Doctor, sure that he is about to consign himself to oblivion as he saves the universe. “We’re all stories in the end,” he tells a redheaded ten-year-old as she sleeps, and as he leaves the story of himself […]

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