It’s a lot. It’s too much, really.
Our minds were not meant to process all the information that is now flooding our days. Our hearts seem not quite large enough to fit all the cares that cry for our attention.
Gun violence and the simultaneous weakening of gun safety regulations. The
A writer is quoted as saying, ‘It’s never too late to be who you might have been.’ That would seem to apply to Julia Child, who found her true calling, being a teacher of French cooking on television, relatively late in life when she was in her 50s. Her participation as a learner and teacher
Wendell Berry observed that the eyes were once considered the window to the soul. Now, making eye contact with a stranger on an American city sidewalk can be construed as a form of aggression.
What does this say about our souls?
The problem here, I suspect, is not urbanization, but privatization. The privatization
Sometimes our liturgical calendar seems to dovetail with the events happening around us. Sometimes, the contrast between the feast and seasonal days in our calendar and what’s actually happening in our world can jar and unnerve us. That is the case this week. Today is Ascension Day, a day when we celebrate Jesus triumphantly ascending
Two years ago on Mother’s Day, my children and grandchildren gave me an amazing gift: a large, full-on bird-feeder! Made of heavy black iron, it has four long curved ‘arms’ that curl on the ends to hold containers for seeds and nuts, a block of suet, and, dried mealworms (!). They planted the feeder outside
Is your house or office cold during the summer months? Order a Calvary sweatshirt to keep you warm! (They’ll come in handy in the fall and winter months, too!) You can choose from navy or dark gray. They come in youth sizes M and L and adult sizes XS-2XL. All sweatshirts
by the Rev. Katherine Bush
You may know by now that I often walk in the mornings in Overton Park. Sometimes I walk with my dogs, sometimes without. Sometimes I listen to music, sometimes I talk to my friend in Connecticut, sometimes I listen to podcasts, sometimes I listen to the birds. A few mornings ago,
I’m building a little workshop in our backyard. (The strange rolling sound you hear is coming from the eyeballs of the Calvary staff, who’ve endured weekly shop updates for a while now and have even feigned interest on occasion.) On Monday afternoon, thunder rumbled in the distance as I nailed off the last ridge shingle.
In preaching last Sunday on the Doubting Thomas passage, where Jesus memorably observes how blessed it is for those who can believe without seeing, I found myself going off in a direction that wiser writers might have recognized as tangential if not full-out going down a rabbit hole. Was it the Holy Spirit or some
