Luke

Move over, pink flamingos. For me, the cross of Christ is as campy as it gets.

Move over, pink flamingos. For me, the cross of Christ is as campy as it gets.

People who have died do not typically eat fish, nor expound upon the scriptures, nor stand among us to offer a blessing and then get whisked away into heaven.

Some things are too big for a single narrative.

Some things are too big for a single narrative.

The disciples can barely believe that Jesus is dead, let alone that he has been raised to life once more.

As the women prepared the oil and spices, I think they must have told stories.

As the women prepared the oil and spices, I think they must have told stories.

As the women prepared the oil and spices, I think they must have told stories.

In the Parable novels, Octavia Butler imagines not just a dystopian future but also a way to survive it.

What do we do with our powerlessness?

When we cannot praise, the rest of creation carries the song.

What do we do with our powerlessness?

The prodigal’s return looks more like a strategy than a wholehearted conversion.

There is no resolution to the prodigal son story, only the resonance of the father’s words.

In order to stop it, we have to understand it.

Who can resist the gardener’s advice to dig around deeply and replenish the soil?

We live with a clear-eyed hope that refuses to squint in the face of suffering.