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Tag Archives: cross
Peter is angry, I’m angry, and we each struggle to see the way forward.
Then there’s Jesus.
Do not set your mind on earthly things, he admonishes. Don’t get mired in anger and defeat. Do heal the sick, do bring good news to the poor, do raise up the broken-hearted; but don’t confuse crucifixion with failure. Continue reading
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
Small victories, born of God, have a profound effect on the people who encounter them. Small victories born of God, born of love, grow up to conquer the world Continue reading
Our silence blinding noise our haste a purpling bruise our invention miscarried justice moebius-stripped somersaulting our balance blurred and silver leaving lightning after-burns, devils dancing our defence a deformed pitchfork our hope embalmed our light eclipsed out darkness undermined our … Continue reading
It is not the purpose of the lightning rod to be destroyed by the storm. Continue reading
Are we ashamed of the continuing bitterness of the world, and Christ’s endurance of it? Do we wish in our hearts that he would come down off that cross and smash it with their mallets and pile the pieces into a funeral pyre for all death and suffering, all grief and strife? Of course. Continue reading
One of the good things to come out of the trials and tribulations of Brian Williams and Bill O’Reilly, in hot water over the accuracy of their memories of reporting from dangerous places, accused of polishing their credentials, of burnishing … Continue reading
made for glory in crystal and ivory; god’s gory death in the creative imagination; torture transformed into breathtaking beauty; would he tear down our totems, turn over tables, whip us weeping into the the night at the sight of … Continue reading
It is such a little thing, to hang above my heart, given me at baptism, my magpie hands clutched at its shiny surface, all glistering and light; once clasped I hardly know I’m wearing my golden cross while sunrise shadows … Continue reading