We are alive. We are loved and worthy of love. God is not done with us yet. That is the whole reason that we are here.
I am a normal person; one way or another, there is blood on my hands. And we have worked so hard to make that okay.
If we are about anything, we are about standing up, unarmed and unarmored, in front of all of the powers of the world-as-it-is, for the Christ who we meet in every pleading face and outstretched hand.
The truth can feel frightening. It can challenge our sense of our very selves and demand that we change to become the people who we thought we were; the people who God is calling us to be.
I don’t have the energy for every conversation. And I have to pick my battles. And this is a lovely hill, but I’m not going to die on it.
Being a pastor or a teacher or a financial advisor is a little bit about fitting in. Being an anything is a little bit about doing the stuff and a little bit about playing the part.
Lent is about a lot of things. It's a little but about remembering that we were dead, and that Christ pulled us out of the grave. And it's a little bit about remembering that we have shovels.
Sin is real. We live among broken systems that aren’t quite anyone’s fault. And that lead to broken lives for which no one will quite claim responsibility. And some of those broken lives are ours.
This cannot be the Messiah! This is Jesus, the son of Jospeh, from Nazareth, in Galilee. And messiahs do not come from Galilee; messiahs are made in Bethlehem. Not even prophets come from Galilee!
The thing about miracles is that they’re miracles; they’re almost certainly not going to happen. But sometimes they do.