Matthew

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.

These Gospel stories can seem so familiar. But sit with the disciples in the little wooden boat, and Jesus' power will render you speechless.

A few years ago, while wandering through the Old City of Jerusalem, I stumbled upon a spray-painted sign on the side of a small factory building. It called out in English: “We need peace.”

It seemed to me like a modern-day cry of “hosanna” coming from the people of Jerusalem.

How does a crowd turn from shouts of joy to cries of murder in such a short span?

How does a crowd turn from shouts of joy to cries of murder in such a short span?

How does a crowd turn from shouts of joy to cries of murder in such a short span?