Second Sunday after Christmas (Year 4, NL)

Jesus’ word of insight to Nathanael seems a lot like a carnival grift.

So I took a new name—as many characters in the Bible do.

He might be the answer, too. But he doesn’t offer much in the way of tweetable platitudes.

Great preaching always points to Jesus.

What are you looking for? It’s a good question, maybe the only question.

Jesus quotes the Jacob’s ladder story in Genesis.

The “Son of Humanity,” the “true Israelite,” and the broken places in our communities

"Look!" says John. "Come and see," says Jesus.

What do we do when we read a story where the ending is already known?

So often the call to discipleship slides into becoming a call to church membership.

John 1:29–42

One time at a women’s retreat, I was asked to tell my call story. I told this woman the whole, convoluted story—about serving as a missionary in Japan, about being restless in my work and volunteering for leadership roles in my church, about discovering old journals where I had written about my desire to study theology, about my memory of sitting in church as a teenager and hearing the pastor give the sermon and saying, “If I was a man, that is what I would want to do.” I told her that it had taken me a long time, but I finally realized that God was calling me to be a pastor.

She was not impressed.

The story of Jesus, at least the way John tells it, begins unspectacularly. “There was a man sent by God, and his name was John.” What does John do for a living? He is a preacher. We can’t get to Jesus without going through a witness, no epiphany without preaching.

Perhaps we should not be too hard on the people who ate their fill on the mountain and chased Jesus down on the other side.

I often feel that my whole time in ministry has been one when the word of the Lord is rare and visions not widespread.

I am among those called to lead people in confessing sin and announcing God's forgiveness in the Sunday liturgy, an essential action never altogether free from the threat of routinized going-through-the-motions. This action is anything but routine, however, when it occurs in the setting I described in my lectionary column for the Century on this week's Gospel lesson.