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Job hopes that God will long for him and come calling. In short, he hopes that God will remember him. In the life and ministry of Jesus, this is exactly what God does. Christians believe that in the person of Jesus, God remembers our fragile existence in a fragile world. In Jesus, God and the world were reconciled. Call it atonement; call it ransom; call it victory over the forces of evil. By whatever name, God remembers us.

He opened our eyes to what we all knew but had forgotten: that prior to the Reformation, the Catholic Church had devalued the sermon in public worship; the Protestants, in their zeal for the recovery of the scripture, now in their own languages, made the sermon the new focus of public worship, and thereby relegated holy Communion to a secondary place, offering it only once a month, or even, in some cases, just four times a year.

Words are absorbent. Used often enough in partisan slogans or ad campaigns, or by certain religious groups or by "influencers" (itself a word with a troubling history), or spun into new usages by disaffected teens, they can be diverted from their broader purposes. They become contaminated by association or overdetermined by repetition, and so less usable for more neutral efforts to identify or describe. As words are turned into trademarks or code language, they become harder for speakers outside the…

My journey to Palestine and Israel began 20 years ago. A Palestinian Christian, Claudette Habesch, then the Secretary General of Caritas Jerusalem, spoke at a luncheon at our church. She described what life was like for her and other Palestinians who were living under the Israeli occupation—checkpoints, roadblocks, excessive use of military force, imprisonment, land confiscations, home demolitions—and especially its effect on Palestinian children. At the conclusion of her talk, I asked, “What can we do?” “Come and see,” she…

When I think about church ministry, I think about disaffiliation. At council meetings, we attend to the details of disaffiliation. When I gather with other pastors, we give updates on our disaffiliation process. If you’re a regular reader of the Reformed Journal, you’ve read quite a bit about Synodical decisions and disaffiliation over the last few months. None of this is what I originally wanted for myself or for the church, so I also get angry about disaffiliation and about…

We face significant barriers if we can’t agree on the fundamentals of knowledge. Perhaps when (and if) the lair of liars is removed from media’s mainstream and extracted from public consciousness, we could begin to talk to each other again. But it is also possible that the damage has already been done. We have built the permission structures to allow truth to lose its meaning. But as Christians we must be truth-tellers above all else. In so doing we can…

Liminal spaces stink. They just do. No matter how much you squint you can’t see through the fog. But the more you take care of yourself, the more gratitude you have for being alive for another day. The truth is life isn’t always about thriving, it’s often about surviving.

Exploring our wounds is not merely a therapeutic exercise. It’s a theological exercise. If disconnection is the essence of trauma, then we’re invited to explore what our own lives look like - and the shared life of our churches and communities – when lived within the traumatic conditions of our exile from Eden.

I’ve been ruminating lately on the rejections, absurdities, and moments of grace that could make someone a poet. What forces send a person into this difficult art, where anonymity is assured and financial reward all but nonexistent? How does the stuff of life become this particular craft?

The takeaway is that the elder Paul Simon, the great music man of his time (move over, Bob), though now gray, half deaf, and of raspy voice, professes the mystery and allure of beauty amid the perplexing mystery of the human capacity to relish, exult, know, and express. Throughout Seven Psalms, in multiple forms ranging from chant to song story, Simon meditates on the strangeness of the reign (or rain) of the marvel of being alive in this resplendent cosmos.