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.

Year B Proper 8: Jairus, Jesus, gay marriage, and grace

This is an updated and expanded version of a sermon that appeared in an earlier draft form, and replaces that post. A few short weeks ago, was Jairus among those religious leaders who thought Jesus mad, even demon-possessed, coming out … Continue reading

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Year B Proper 7: partial Christianity and false peace

On Wednesday of last week, in a city a few hours from here, Loretta Lynch was finally sworn in as Attorney General, the first African American woman to hold the position. During the ceremony, she used a bible that had … Continue reading

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Year B Proper 6: Consider the birds

Think of a hotdog without the hope of mustard, and consider how fortunate and elevated and blessed we are to have been scattered and sown, little seeds of God’s kingdom. Continue reading

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Haikonic afterthoughts

On blasphemy against the Holy Spirit Blasphemy: wilful submission to delusions of divinity Blasphemy: pinching out air, pressing the human back into the clay Blasphemy: wilful misinterpretation of the mercy of God

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YouTube nation/BlackLivesMatter

a child lies in the grass; we tattooed her at birth; we’ve got her number

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Year B Proper 5: bike racks and blasphemy

I have a bit of an independent streak, so the other day when the car dealership called to say that the car was fixed, I didn’t want to have to wait for someone else to take me over there to … Continue reading

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Rolling

At the bus stop, a boy making noises like a man who never learned to leave such nonsense behind; young woman turned, lips pressed, one hand to hip, one hand to God I do not know him. Children walk in the street … Continue reading

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Trinity Sunday, 2015

I am not a maths person, per se. I am basically numerate: when I worked in the deli, I could make change without hesitation or error or the use of fancy modern electronics. But higher mathematics were not my area … Continue reading

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Reverence

Yesterday I knelt at an array of unlit candles reading the morning prayer before the noonday sun. “Test me, O Lord, and try me; examine my heart and my mind.” “Do not snatch me away with the wicked and evildoers, … Continue reading

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Pentecost dreaming

What happens  [asks the poet] to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore – And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over – … Continue reading

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