On Easter Day, for the first time in over a year, I had the privilege of presiding and preaching as a guest at The Church of the Nativity, a beautiful, historic church and vibrant parish in Greenwood MS. Everyone who knows anything about the Delta knows that the region is complicated in many ways. The
Near the end of a pilgrimage to the Holy Land in 2009, we all got up at 5 o’clock one morning to walk the stations of the cross along the Via Dolorosa. It is the old street in Jerusalem that is remembered as the path that Jesus took to his crucifixion. Via Dolorosa is Latin
As we begin to imagine a world of less physical separation, and the liturgies of Holy Week draw near (and, yes, since I haven’t been able to find the bandwidth this week…), I thought I’d post an article I wrote several years ago in the Christian Century. They titled it “Bodies at Worship.” I
*cusp: a dividing line between two very different things
One cold, bright-blue day in Colorado, I boarded a chairlift with my husband Frank. We strapped ourselves into seats that reminded me of the seats on Ferris wheels that my brother and I rode as children. But on this ‘ride’ there were long narrow skis attached to
In the past two weeks, I’ve been experiencing a strange sensation. Maybe you have, too. It feels like something long-forgotten, recently resurfacing—like an old song on the radio, one you hadn’t thought of in twenty years, but to whose every word you can sing along. My friends, to put it plainly, I am feeling hopeful.
It’s been so long since I have seen all of you; and although this present experience of “seeing” you, of being with you through these words is far from fully satisfying (for me), this process delights me. At the outset, though, I must offer a fair warning: I may just babble. Gretchen, my dog, has
Not long after I first arrived at Calvary, the Reverend Bill Kolb sent me an email welcoming me to Calvary and Memphis, letting me know we share a mutual interest in pastoral care and inviting me to lunch at a midtown restaurant at 2:30. I emailed Bill back and said, ‘This all sounds wonderful, but
For the first Ash Wednesday since Ardelle and I entered the Episcopal Church 24 years ago, I won’t receive the imposition of ashes on my forehead by another Christian today, hearing the loving and unadorned reminder that I am dust, and to dust I shall return. This is a great loss for me.
The 100 North Main building is an instance of something I’ve wondered at since my house building days. One would think that humans wear out the things we build. And, of course, we do. Boot soles and palms rub stair treads and handrails slowly to dust one touch at a time.