Since I get on the train around 5:30 in the morning, most of us riding into New York use the time to sleep–until the train stops at 125th Street, and then we start to move about. Some get their stuff together but stay seated, and others (like me) stand up near the door just to…
Back when we were youth ministers, my friend Burt had a metaphor about relationships (talking to young people about relating to their parents and vice versa) that I have not forgotten. He said building trust was like a savings account: you have to build it up by making small deposits in the way you deal…
Some days I can deal with the world and some days I struggle. Tonight is a struggle. Today I read stories about how many states are pushing legislation similar to Florida’s homophobic (in this case, I think we need to redefine homocidal) “don’t say gay” law and another story about Russian troops carrying mobile crematoria…
One of the stories I have repeated often (and I have a lot of stories I have repeated) is that when my father died one of the first things that crossed my mind was to call those I knew whose fathers had died before mine and say, “I’m sorry. I meant well in what I…
Palm Sunday is a day full of contradictions to me, particularly in the way we observe it as Jesus’ triumphal entry, because I don’t think triumph was a central word in Jesus’ vocabulary. As I read the story again this year, preparing to preach, I saw something I had not seen before, and that was…
Yesterday I got a text from a church friend asking if was home because she had something to drop off. When she came by, she handed me two packages of Disco Chips, self-described as “semi-sweet morsels and edible glitter morsels.” The folks at Nestle have had too much time on their hands during the pandemic….
play ball I served a church outside of Boston back when a curse was still a curse and every year before Opening Day Wally would stand and read aloud Time, like an ever-rolling stream, Bears all its sons away; They fly forgotten, as a dream Dies at the opening day. he crossed my mind today…
it’s not your fault a friend who grew up in an abusive home recalls a moment in a mall store when she was young and her mother was berating her and a stranger knelt down and looked her in the eye “this is not your fault” she said and then life went on but the…
I have three tattoos. The first one is the simplest: a semi-colon. It rests on the front side of my right arm. When I learned about Project Semi-Colon and the idea that depression is not the end of the sentence, I punctuated my life with there mark. The third one is on the inside of…
vigil what difference does it make if we all stand still together or fill up a room to hear others tell stories of love and loss one woman in town is baking Ukrainian bread to raise money to help refugees and hospitals one loaf at a time how can a hundred bucks stop a tank…