Author Archives: Rosalind C Hughes

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About Rosalind C Hughes

Rosalind C Hughes is an Episcopal priest, poet, and author living near the shores of Lake Erie. After growing up in England and Wales, and living briefly in Singapore, she is now settled in Ohio. Rosalind is the author of A Family Like Mine: Biblical Stories of Love, Loss, and Longing , and Whom Shall I Fear? Urgent Questions for Christians in an Age of Violence, both from Upper Room Books. She loves the lake, misses the ocean, and is finally coming to terms with snow.

more than watchmen for the morning

In the silence before the dawn,
in the fearful shadows that embalm
the edges of sleep, each sound
is amplified: Continue reading

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Year B Proper 13: What kind of messiah do you want?

When the people had been fed with the loaves and the fishes, they tried to capture Jesus to make him a king, but he slipped away. When they tracked him down, he confronted them, “Look! It’s not enough to want me to feed you miracles every day, loaves and fishes, manna and quail. There is more to the life of God, life with God, than the occasional miracle.” Continue reading

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“a soft tongue can break bones” – Proverbs 25:15b

with all the tenderness of a tiger’s tongue, flaying soul from skin, rasping marrow until, gasping, you surrender all truth; you would give your eye-teeth for such love.

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Unmiracle

A miracle is, by definition, unlikely to happen. When our daughter was ten, I lost her in the woods. She was ten, and actively honing her skills in defiance, contrariness, and flouncing. It was our first visit after moving away, … Continue reading

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Year B Proper 12: Breaking bread

“All things come of thee, and of thine own have we given thee,” many of us grew up intoning at every Offertory presentation. We are familiar with the concept that all that we have is of God, and that there … Continue reading

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Empty churches

Mary, the mother church, eking out milk to last the week; Monday morning, spent, she rests convalescent, quiet A void of another kind, Shakespeare’s tomb hastily built into Babel; who sees the stranger seeking sanctuary from its old iron face? St … Continue reading

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Family entertainment

“Off with his head!” cried the Queen of Hearts. It had all begun much earlier, with a powerless princess, pawn pushed about in a dizzying dance by the Queen and her King; the Bishop turned slantwise away, his excited disapproval … Continue reading

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Innocents

three little girls, pink suits and brown bodies, shrieking false fear under the sprinkler while hoses play over the flames, prayers rising like hot steam

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Old moon

Yellow moon tonight: jaundiced, gibbous, waning; still shining like the sun.

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My Jairus moment

The “problem” with finishing a sermon on Friday night is that it leaves far too much room for reflection, inspiration, and downright interference by the Holy Spirit. Here is the version of the sermon I preached Saturday night at St … Continue reading

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