It’s been seven years, and I cannot access Jesus' word of peace. The tears still sting and slosh over my pail of remorse.
Easter | Day of Pentecost (Year B)
Acts 2:1-21; Romans 8:22-27 or Ezekiel 37:1-14 (Psalm 104:24-34, 35b); John 15:26-27, 16:4b-15
God calls us out of the metaphorical tombs in which we are buried: addiction, hopelessness, guilt. But I believe God also calls us out of the tangible tombs of entrenched poverty, poor education, and limited opportunity.
Somewhere in my queue of non-time-sensitive articles to write—yes, it’s been there a while—is one on the history and practice of making theologically significant changes to traditional American songs. Not just line-level edits like neutering/diversifying gendered language or using “love” in place of “wrath.” I mean re-imagining songs in a thoroughgoing way, while also preserving much of the existing imagery and language patterns. (I posted some time ago about one historical example.) I write songs and play traditional music, but I haven’t actually tried this approach myself.