Monthly Archives: March 2018

Details were remembered – thorn of crowns, sponge with vinegar the first meeting with Rufus and Alexander whom they would know later, the cry, a psalm confused with Elijah, and the torn curtain. They were picked out, like the final … Continue reading →

We are the cocks crowing – we clergy. It doesn’t really matter what we say in all the sermons we plan so long and shape so carefully to inspire, not to offend, and to illuminate the old stories. We need … Continue reading →

The testimony is sketchy at best, and the prosecution stretches for a capital charge. There’s the hanging judge, and the one who would rather not, forever remembered for the blood on his hands. We mostly remember the two men – … Continue reading →

I wonder whether the disciples were really sleeping, or whether they said after everything – “we must have been sleeping,” because this is the story that breaks and heals the heart of those of us whose children, whose friends, whose … Continue reading →

“Follow the man with a water jar,” Jesus said. That is a queer thing to say, in a country where women carry water. Ever since that time, we follow the outsider to find  a guest room for Jesus. “This is … Continue reading →

After Jesus said it … about the woman who broke the jar (you are what you break), and poured the ointment on his head (you are what you pour), and wasted her most precious thing (you are what you give), … Continue reading →