Matthew

It often feels like a rhetorical game, this question of what belongs to God.

The hyperbole, violence, and abrupt scene changes in Matthew’s parable of the wedding feast have driven most interpreters to treat the story allegorically—thereby turning it from a dangerous puzzle to a reassuring message in code.

Jesus' parable of the so-called "wicked tenant farmers" is a textbook illustration—a parody, even—of the economic and political dynamics of empire.

Ezekiel steps right into the middle of a group of people busy at that most ancient of activities, going back to Eden: the blame game.

Church folks will not always agree—nor should we.

The Prodigal Son is often read to mean that God loves sinners, whereas the Jews thought God only loved the righteous. This makes no sense.

Joseph knows what he is seeing. His brothers do not.

Yoder defined violence in terms of violating someone's dignity. This sounds ready made as a description of his own abusive behavior.

Yoder defined violence in terms of violating someone's dignity. This sounds ready made as a description of his own abusive behavior.

Years ago, at a denominational gathering, I heard a visitor from the global South say the following about North American Christians:

They have so many things. They don’t need anything. Yet it seemed like the people were very thirsty, like they were in a desert and we were bringing them drops of water.

These words refuse to leave me.

Growing in prayer is not simply acquiring a set of special spiritual skills. It is growing into Christian humanity.

The people are hungry. Jesus' solution is even more improbable than the disciples' solution.

I was startled earlier this year when news anchor Peter Mansbridge called someone a Good Samaritan on The National, the flagship nightly newscast of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. I was surprised that in our secularized, multifaith society, newswriters assumed that listeners would understand an allusion from the Bible.

On second thought, I was less surprised.

Six words of scripture always transport me to an amazing place: “The kingdom of heaven is like . . .”

We all see weeds, but we shouldn't make it our business to separate them.

Jesus' parable presents not differences between people but different kinds of terrain within each of us.

Jeremiah has great resolve—at least in retrospect.

It seems a little backward on the Sunday after Pentecost to receive instructions that have already been successfully carried out. Peter and the disciples blew them away last week, preaching up a storm of fire and spirit like a host of Rosetta Stone experts. But today we go back to the place where Jesus told them what to do: Go and make disciples.

Go and make disciples? More like wait and welcome converts.