Monthly Archives: April 2016

Year C Easter 6: Down by the river

Silt sinking to your shoes, knee deep in ooze, you lose your stream of thought way down by the river to pray. Tripping, tickling trout tumbling upward, hope lifts labour over falls, life runs down by the river to pray. … Continue reading

Posted in lectionary reflection, poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Year C Easter 5: “Make no distinction between them and us”

Acts 11: 12 “The Spirit told me to go with them and not to make a distinction between them and us.” – Peter has a vision of eating foreign food, and is called thereby to recognise the grace of God … Continue reading

Posted in sermon | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

When orange is ok

I am making some orange stoles. This was not in my original plan for the week, but it happened almost by accident (as so many gun-related detours do). A friend and colleague [update: the Revd C Eric Funston tells the story … Continue reading

Posted in current events, other words | Tagged | 16 Comments

Year C Easter 4: heaven on earth and pie in the sky

Since his ministry began, Jesus has gone from the playful – turning the water meant for ritual ablutions into the finest wine – through the profound, the revolutionary, the revelationary. He has broken down the barriers erected by generations, drinking … Continue reading

Posted in sermon | Leave a comment

Spring in Michigan

It’s day two of the Festival of Faith & Writing. So much to think about, process, reflect upon, enjoy. But halfway across the parking lot at lunch – in the middle of a day that began in the freezing temperatures … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Early morning prayer

The expression of light before it breaks: a black sky open to distant heavens; the shocking nudity of pale tree limbs displayed against a deep cloud canvas. Within and without lie in such balance for a moment I can see … Continue reading

Posted in poetry, prayer | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Savasana

Empty clothing, deflating dust with bone fastenings, faded and stained, deeply wrinkled enough to bury life within the folds, rolled up like a mat and carried out when the last breath fails and the softness falls upon itself.

Posted in poetry | Tagged , , | Leave a comment