In the Lectionary

Enough water has passed under the bridge to allow us to take a second look at the virtuous woman of Proverbs 31.

My childhood church used offering envelopes with six checkboxes on them, a sort of spiritual scorecard. When I finally met James, hiding behind Paul, I proudly showed him my envelope. He laughed.

Perhaps we should not be too hard on the people who ate their fill on the mountain and chased Jesus down on the other side.

Jesus offers signs of life in the midst of death.

David stares at us out of a mirror and shows us our capacity for sinning.

Jesus listens patiently to the disciples. Then he tucks them in for a nap.

Being fearful in a storm at sea is not exactly irrational like pogonophobia (fear of beards).

These parables are like God's joke in the form of an invasive species.

We might be tempted to adopt a vague notion of “faith” as the only criterion for inclusion in this family, but Jesus’ teaching will not allow us to separate faith from faithfulness or discipleship from submission.

These Trinity Sunday texts show God moving graciously—and persistently—toward people while they struggle to stay on their feet.

I got the epidural. As the pain receded, I felt an ache of disappointment settle in.

Casting lots to determine how to fill an apostolic vacancy? Really?

My desire to clean the kitchen was an exercise of love. Then my mom asked me to do what I was already planning to do—and my gift turned into affliction.