On Ash Wednesday, I will try to reconcile with a Jesus who stands before me, ready to offer the love I desperately need. I will try to find his hand amid my darkness, a brokenness that has nothing to do with my sin.
Perhaps the only way to really experience Christmas as it was intended is to renew the faith of a pre-Christmas people who did not yet know the Savior whose justice and righteousness we seem to stubbornly resist at every turn
The Simeons and Annas keep the faith when we cannot. Their praises become our praises. Their disappointments reflect ours. Their hopes become our hopes. Their constant murmured prayers help sustain us.
For me, the practice of cultivating hope during the Advent season began with a list of simple action steps.
The deep and abiding anger that we harbor at the world as it is today will kill us in greater numbers than the actions of crooked cops, Trump-loving white nationalists or mass shooters. As elusive as it may seem, seeking the peace that surpasses all understanding must be our daily work.
We do our best to illumine this time of year with both artificial and spiritual means. Thankfully, God provides the latter.
The Gospel reading for the first Sunday of Advent (Matt. 24:36-44) is one I remember from the days I clutched a Scofield Reference Bible. Along with Scofield’s infallible notes I carried around a copy of Hal Lindsey’s The Late Great…
Who we choose to be informs how we will live and move and have our being in this world. After all, we are people commanded to be known by the way we love one another. If that is our starting point in all things, we will see the good and hope and promise in the challenges before us.
Why are we in such a rush to get to Easter Sunday? In our efforts to make Easter celebrations the most extravagant Sunday of the year, when church attendance is expected to be beyond the norm, we forget — if not…