Why is God’s presence sometimes so difficult to find? Well, one reason is we are bred for change and God’s presence is constant. In this letter to my soon-to-be born children, I explore this challenge. Of course, the letter’s not just for them. It’s for you too. And for me.
Today’s sermon is a meditation on Psalm 23, an “expansion,” if you will, of the content of the Psalm. I’ve heard and read this psalm a thousand times, but working intimately with it this week has given me a new appreciation for its, theme, its gentleness, and its power.
In my first ever book review on WtW, I was blessed to read Planted by Leah Kostamo. In this joyful, quick read Kostamo integrates into the anecdotal narrative honest and thoughtful theological reflection on creation care, stewardship, and vocation.
Today we journey to the center of the word “believe,” and we learn that to believe is to rest your weight on something. That is your foundation, and we have only one of those, for we believe in God alone.
The Resurrection is not an event that happened in some obscure backwater of the Roman Empire nearly 2,000 years ago. We live in a reality in which Christ is risen. The truth of the risen-ness of Christ permeates existence — then, now, always.
Standing at the foot of the cross with all the powers of evil and separation careening towards Golgotha. What if it’s all a trap? Not for Jesus…but for them. (This is part 1, which ends with a cliffhanger. Stayed tuned for part 2 Sunday.)
In my first Ignatian homily since December, I am once again back in the mind of Peter as he talks with a cellmate in a Roman prison near the end of his life. Could this cellmate — a new convert — help Peter recover something he has lost?
A few words to help you prepare to read or listen to the Passion Gospel according to Saint Matthew.