Category Archives: story

Beating Guns

I wrote this morning at the RevGalBlogPals site about my Holy Week encounter with Shane Claiborne’ and Michael Martin’s #BeatingGuns tour. God Before Guns co-hosted the event with Pilgrim UCC in Tremont, Cleveland. Read more about it at RevGals; see … Continue reading

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Why have we come here? Good Friday 2019

We come not to glory in his death, but out of fear of our own; and not only, nor even the death of our bodies, may they never endure such pain as his; but the death of our souls, the diminishing returns of our humanity, the erosion of love and the weary wearing away of compassion. On the cross, we see the destitution of our humanity, what it has come to, that we would sacrifice Christ to keep an unquiet peace, and pile on the death of God to weight the scales of injustice. We see where it could all end up, if we would prefer instruments of death to a way of life that makes us vulnerable to the demands of love and of mercy. Continue reading

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Palms and Passion: If these were silent

Holy Week sets a high bar for the followers of Christ. It asks whether we are willing to cry louder than the forces of sin and death, or whether we will rely on the stones, the cross, and the carillon to do it for us. Continue reading

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Citizens of heaven

Our citizenship is in heaven, declare the confident and the confused, the helpless and the hopeful, in every language invented under the Word of God; and the kingdom of heaven is at hand, says Jesus, where love is unwavering and indiscriminate; where death is defeated by the stubborn and resilient love of God, and the hope of heaven. Continue reading

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Revealed, by Angela D. Schaffner

Dr Schaffner’s psychological insights guide her readers through a journey into a Bible which does not lecture, chide, nor always even guide us so much as hold up a mirror to our own lives and relationships, inviting God into those reflections, and recognizing where God’s grace is already at work within us. Continue reading

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Falling

Precipitated by clever argument between gravity, ice, and the presumption of free will, bruised as creation, blue and green, concussed like goatskin stretched and pounding – the serpent, sliding snidely by, hisses something about pride, a fig leaf, and the … Continue reading

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Water, wine, and justice like an ever-flowing stream

On sabbatical, I visited the National Museum of African American History and Culture. I can’t begin to describe briefly the impact of walking that history of inhumanity and human dignity set up in opposition to one another, the weight of those ceilings, each one a century, and the heaviness of your footsteps as you climb closer to our own day of reckoning. Continue reading

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