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.

Many dwelling places

There is more; there are many rooms, Jesus says, in God’s house: room for all of God’s children to roam and find their place. In God’s home and heart are many dwelling places, and sometimes we need more than one in a lifetime, if we are to grow and become the person God intended us to be. Continue reading

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Many dwelling places

There was a hill covered in cloud that resisted the imprecations of the wind that tossed the crows about and hurried us to shelter beneath a bare crag, eroded by the dwelling of the centuries, bodies it had harbored, of … Continue reading

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Unhinged

I am a gate, I swing this way and that, inviting you to step into my dance, leading with the song you have heard before: creak and sigh of hungry humanity herded like sheep by fear and faith by turns. … Continue reading

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The road to Emmaus

If the risen Christ stumbled through our doors, unexpected and unrecognized, visibly wounded in his head and his heart and his hands, how would we treat him? As a victim of our human violence, or as a threat? Continue reading

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Prayer in the aftermath

Offered in case it is helpful in your context in this week or another. Feel free to adapt as needed. Gracious God, king of peace, who brought again from the dead our Saviour Jesus Christ after we had crucified him … Continue reading

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For all the alleluias

For all the alleluias that fall into the empty grave before the earth is cast down; alleluias that burst like a disappointed balloon upon the tongue; alleluias that took a wrong turn and never came home; for all of the alleluias that become ululations for the still dead and dying; alleluias gasping; … Continue reading

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Reeking of resurrection

“Have you believed because you have seen me?” asked Jesus. “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” And blessed, he might have added, are those who have the words, the wisdom, the love, and the compassion to show them how to believe in the overwhelming love of God in Christ. Continue reading

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Blessed

He breathed on them the scent of grave-clothes, myrrh, and aloes, the stench of forgiveness; I imagine that smells of olive oil pressed from the groves in the Garden of Gethsemane, drowning out with unction the fetor of betrayal and blood.  All day long they shed … Continue reading

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Sirens

Time was when the siren was a singer of sea mist; her music has hardened, staccato,and her figure, smooth and long like steel; still, she kills, and from a distance the echo returns as a wail falling and rising like smoke foreshadowing the ashes of the dead

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Easter 2023: it’s (still) a love story

It isn’t like any love story we could conjure up, because it is true, a true story: Jesus lived among us, the Son of God was crucified, descended to the dead, and on the third day rose again, and he could not wait to greet his beloved disciples on the road, could not wait to see their shining, astonished faces; he could not wait to love them back. Continue reading

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