Even in the jagged edges of life, God’s glory shines. And we are the cultivators of this glory.
Three times a year, a worship service ends and I go back to the vesting room to change—and I feel as though I'm walking into a time warp.
I wonder and worry that people perceive Christ’s rule to be similar to the queen of England’s rule. Do we view Christ as one surrounded with the art and beauty of a tradition that is more antique than active? Do we see this figure of salvation as hopelessly outdated and practically mute in these postmodern times?