Something abides there.
Something pure. Something as clean and beautiful as a basketful of apple blossoms in spring.
Sermons
Field Blackbird Librarian Love
Poetry defies the rational mind. Like religion, it scratches at the surface of mystery, and leaves us open.
Easter Ironies
Have you ever noticed that the days that we celebrate… always seem to contain a rather distinct ironical quality?
I Only Want to Say…
Can we know God, without knowing, most fully our own pain?
This is the question of Gethsemane…
Members Only?
Being part of the club is nice. Having the door shut in your face? That is not nice. That feels bad!