From where I sitI see the celebrant's feet,black, cap-toed brogues,dress shoes carefully shined,their ancient leathercreased and cracked.We bring who we are,our carefully cared for,often broken best.He gives what He has,wine from broken feetwhich I would washwith grateful tears,polish with my wild,unfettered hair.
Christine Pohl on sustainable congregations, Martin Copenhaver on the food movement, Amy Frykholm talks to immigration activist Isabel Castillo.
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