Last night, a discussion of Mary Magdelene reminded me of a poem about her by Jane Kenyon. You can find the text of “Woman, Why Are You Weeping?” here, but be warned: if this is a cheery day for you and you’d like to keep it that way, read no further.
To my mind, Pharaohs and Egyptians, who have been showing up with Moses & Co. in our Sunday readings recently, were the Old Testament equivalents of Darth Vader and the stormtroopers, the sort of folks whose drowning gets celebrated in poems and happy camp songs.
Last Wednesday morning, we were running late. It had taken longer than we expected to pick up my mother’s birthday cake at LaBaguette Bakery, so we tried to find the quickest route possible to Jackson, Mississippi, where we were to meet my mother and family for lunch to celebrate her 84th birthday. Along Union Avenue,
There’s a scene in Harry Potter where the bookish and brilliant Hermione Granger abuses her copy of Hogwarts, A History, a tome that Hermione heretofore had held in highest esteem and quoted at length. The reader (and Harry) look on with confusion as she furiously exclaims, “A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more
John Palmer is stepping down into full retirement from his position as associate organist/choirmaster at Calvary. He first served in this capacity from 1989-1994 and returned in 2014 upon his retirement from FedEx.
On Sunday afternoon, Ardelle and I packed up the Subaru and headed west for a few days away. Our itinerary is to read, write, fish, eat, walk, rinse, and repeat through Thursday. So, after a few hours of reading Monday morning, I headed down to the Little Red River with my favorite fly rod.
Education for Ministry (EfM) invites participants into small, mentored groups that provide the framework for understanding life and shaping actions as Christian faith is deepened. EfM seminar groups meet in local settings and online and provide a four-year curriculum that develops a theologically informed, reflective, and articulate laity.
‘As Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea – for they were fishermen.’ – Matthew 4:18
It was a 10-hour car ride to reach our vacation destination, and I was going through some habitual motion of my pre-pandemic self: searching for the local Episcopal church to attend. I reached the website on my phone, and here was the notice about online Sunday services, yes, the various ways I could spend more time at these accursed