28th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year C, RCL)

In the West Bank town of Burqin, there is a Roman cistern that is said to have once housed people with leprosy.

Jeremiah isn’t panicking. He’s incandescent with holy resolve.

God’s saving work is never too big for ordinary moments or casual conversations.

I wish Durham’s HEART program had existed when my friend Joe was killed.

There is nothing wrong with the nine. There is something extraordinary about the one.

It’s not that Babylon was backward. But it wasn’t home.

At last the protests fade away and we come to seven little splashes in the Jordan river.

In 2 Kings 5, the VIP characters aren't the ones who make a difference.

Maybe the lepers know that Jesus likes being in the borderland.

God invites us to live out an authentic prophetic ministry truly guided by God.

What does it look like to embody the peace of the city of God?

Naaman's servants' question cuts and burns.

When I read this week's Gospel, I remember two lepers I saw at a train station in India—how alone they were.

A voice of grace rings through the Naaman story—the voice of a child carried away as a spoil of war.

How would I get to nursing homes, or respond to emergencies? What would I do when it snowed? I hoped the answers would come as I pedaled.

The Old Testament displays an ongoing conversation between conflicting views of God's character. In light of this, Jesus' story becomes very important.

Years ago, I wrote a book on sin. To estimate its breadth and depth, I studied biblical and theological sources. But as much as the standard sources taught me, I was surprised to discover that I could also learn a lot about sin and grace by reading storytellers, biographers, poets and journalists.

The general was insulted by the piddling, muddy Jordan. But he entered the water—and was healed! Then it was time to pay the bill.