In Mark 5, a hemorrhaging woman meets a permeable savior.
As CC books editor, I get to peruse a lot of books. Too bad I can’t review them all.
Coakley's kind of theology requires more than claims. It needs prayer.
I was born in California. One side of my family immigrated to the United States in the early 17th century. The other side of my family arrived on tightly packed ships filled with misery and tears. We have been American for a long time. Yet, it wasn’t until a cool night in November 2008 that I felt a sense of belonging.
We call God "Father" and "Mother" because children don't say "Parent, Parent." But what will my children call me?
Bathroom bills. The phrase’s bouncy, alliterative nature, plus just the word bathroom, makes it somehow seem light, frivolous . . . oh, it’s just about the bathroom. It’s not.
Flesh is indeterminate. It flows, changes over time, and is consumed and transformed. It becomes the reality of rich spiritual encounter.
The Danish Girl celebrates a young artist's gender transition. But the Oscar-nominated film goes farther than this—and not everywhere it goes is comfortable.
“Do we lean in, or blame society?” We don’t need a solution that addresses either/or. With many structural inequities, injustices, and cruelty, the answer is both/and. Do we feed the homeless, or advocate for a society that no longer produces so many homeless people? Do we protest the death of one young black man, or do we work to change the brutal policing system? Do we send the people in Flint bottled water, or do we fix the pipes? The answer to all of these is yes and yes.
Nevertheless, I think that John’s prologue has much more to say. In speaking about this Word become flesh, it also speaks powerfully to us about what it means to be human. Over the years, I kept returning to a few verses that changed the way that I saw the entire prologue and which consequently changed my entire theology.