Luke 1

Is it hard to obey the angel's command, "Do not be afraid"?

Christmas can’t come soon enough for Tom.

Motherhood and ministry are intertwined for me.

Mary and Elizabeth knew the basic truths of life.

When I read the annunciation story, I picture Mary as Clara.

When I read the annunciation story, I picture Mary as Clara.

The Magnificat rejoices in a God who acts within human history.

I imagine Nathan waking to the word of the Lord with his heart pounding.

"I love you," says God. "We love you, too," our prayers reply.

What a relief it might be to middle-class America to be sent away empty.

As I lifted the chalice, the baby began to play soccer under my ribs.

This story is full of echoes—most famously, Mary's song echoes Hannah's. But there is another echo: Elizabeth's praise of Mary, which gets taken up into the Hail Mary, is an echo of Deborah's song in Judges 5.

Mary is a jazz singer, improvising on a familiar tune.

Mary is a jazz singer, improvising on a familiar tune.

The prospect of Syrian refugees entering the U.S. has unleashed a wave of fear. But fear, while understandable, is an unreliable guide to policy.

Luke's Gospel gives us some wondrous glimpses into the life of John the Baptist. We have the compelling story of how his father, Zechariah, heard he'd soon be a daddy, disbelieved that revelation, and spent the entire pregnancy unable to speak.

But when he is finally able to speak, he speaks!