Salvation is not a place but a way of life.
He was moving away, the stranger said, and he wanted to leave a box in my care.
The first Easter was a wrecked scene of dispirited disciples in the shadows of an insurrection.
We’ll crack apart. We’ll change.
Why I’ve chosen Michele Madigan Somerville's Glamourous Life as my Lenten companion.
Each tree in my neighborhood is the tree of life.
I didn’t know how to answer, but I do know that the gendering of God has real-world consequences.
My mother grew up in a violent home. But violence was not the totality of her life.
Lately I find myself returning to the writing of Brian Doyle.
“If it can’t be happy, make it beautiful.”
I think Jesus learned his prophetic ministry from his mother.
The stark liturgical space that Harvard Episcopal chaplain Rita Powell envisioned before COVID is now a reality.
There is a parable here of half-hidden faces, wounds, and a lack of love.
We know how to wield a sword, but nobody taught us how to cultivate a field.
I experience God through the embodied community of faith—and I miss it.