Matthew

God’s presence transfigures here, now, in the familiar.

Idolatry is the desire to manipulate God.

Why do we give Matthew 4:23 short shrift?

Putting flesh on the bones of justice

Matthew’s Beatitudes are meant to give comfort, not to challenge.

The story of Jesus' baptism makes me think of gardens.

Jesus’ call is less about what we leave behind than our eager response to follow him as everyday people.

Epiphanies come to us in all shapes and sizes.

Grief is like a lead-weighted blanket that can never be fully lifted.

Jesus knows he’s part of a history, a people’s longing and dreams.

Genealogies suggest a beautiful inevitability even amid political impossibility.

The Bible gives no sense that the family is an end in itself.

Matthew connects Jesus to the overarching narrative of the Jewish people—as well as to the smaller story of Matthew’s immediate community.

I'm always amused when folk are keen enough to notice the worship whiplash to which the tradition so often subjects them.

"Whom are you trying to catch?" I asked my roommate. "Probably nobody," he said.

In his response to John, Jesus speaks of hope in the present tense.

In the stitched-together story of Advent, we wrestle with each other’s certainties.

It’s troubling to imagine the Son of man arriving with criminal intent.

Jesus in conversation with three women in the Gospels