1 Thessalonians

Paul focuses on Christ—and then on others.

In our world, as in Paul’s, power announces itself by volume.

God may be found in anyone at any time.

What we witnessed at the Super Bowl was less a performance than an invitation.

Paul, speaking for Silas and Timothy, offers a layered metaphor.

It’s really tough to value the gifts inherent in finitude when beloved ones are dying.

Stephen Fowl’s fresh approach to the study of idolatry

Like John the Baptist, progressive Christians tend to define ourselves in the negative.

 How can people tell the difference between a prophet and a phony?

How is thankfulness engendered? By giving thanks in all circumstances.

We seem to always want something—anything—to happen. This has implications for the life of prayer.

In my Century lectionary column for this week, I wrote about Zephaniah 1 and 1 Thessalonians 5, with their shared theme of the “day of the Lord.” Zephaniah’s account is particularly fearsome, and it serves as important background for the medieval liturgical text “Dies Irae.”

I chose to focus on these passages because they are hard to hear. Initially they seem so alien, and yet on second reflection, their scenes of destruction are so terribly familiar.

Are our days of destruction the "day of the Lord"?

We have, in fact, been given a simple code for living.

Multitasking is marked by a sustained sense of urgency in a world mediated by communication devices. Puttering is something different.

Let us imagine that humility was God’s gift to Paul at his conversion.

How, in real life, do we love God and neighbor?

Some 50 years ago, Merton warned us about what can happen when “all words have become alike.”

Does Paul say "we were gentle among you"? Or "we were infants"?