In our three-year lectionary cycle, most Hebrew Bible texts come up once at most. Isaiah 58 is assigned five times. We justice-minded Christians tend to find additional reasons to turn to it as well.
I have always wanted to see the look on Qoheleth’s face. An innovative thespian on a spiritual quest recently gave me that chance.
A colleague from the theater department at my university had told me that someone was doing a monologue of Ecclesiastes at a local fringe festival. I was excited in a way that betrays my particular nerdiness about this topic. I bought a ticket to Meaningless and sat up front, eagerly waiting to finally meet the sage, whom I had been studying for so many years, in person.
Luke’s Beatitudes are for the poor. What if Matthew’s are, too?
If so, what did he mean?
If God is our salvation and stronghold, why are we just as vulnerable as anyone else?
The deeper Philip Jenkins takes us, the more layered and fascinating the story becomes.
What are you looking for? It’s a good question, maybe the only question.
In Race and Rhyme, associative hermeneutics finds its roots in deep, communal, and highly developed wisdom.
Even Jesus is unable to escape the consequences of sin, becoming a victim of human violence.