by Jeff Munroe When I was 15, I sent Olivia Newton John a love letter. I thought of that embarrassing letter the other day when

A bit before sunset on Christmas Day I ended the day of our Lord’s birth picking up toys and the contents of a diaper bag

In Galatians 4:4-7 (NRSV), Paul wrote, “But when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the

Bethlehem, c. 2 B.C. Of all my children, this one loves me the most. He gently holds my face in his pudgy toddler hands and

Come, Savior. Come amid the salt-crusted cars lined up at the light, amid the clamor and bustle of commerce, the grocery store cash drawer rings,

I recently finished reading Shusaku Endo’s Silence in preparation for the film adaptation by Martin Scorsese that will be released on Christmas day. It’s a haunting story

by Kate Kooyman “Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace