Jesus presents himself as a physician, and offers one of his most programmatic statements of ethics. The sick need a doctor, not the healthy. Why then does church seem designed for the already well?
For someone who grew up being told they barely count as human, the idea that God is specifically mindful of them is not a moment of little surprise. It is a life-changing claim.
Healing the wounds of the world begins at the tossing of seeds in the middle of a city, the falling of flaming tongues on the early church, and the persistent faith, hope, and love that community care provides.
Jesus offers power through the gift of the Holy Spirit. Rather than being consolidated in one place or in one person, this power is dispersed, establishing not a national entity but an ever-expanding community of belonging.
We live in a hyper-ideologized age. The inner circles of both “us” and “them” are getting smaller and smaller. The world is increasingly polarized, partisan, fundamentalist. Or at least it seems so. There are forces—including algorithms—at work, teaching us to think in “us” versus “them” frames.
If someone is in an abusive relationship, are they to forgive their abuser? If someone is actively and repeatedly harming us, are we to forgive them? If this theological-ethical conundrum gives you pause, you are not alone.
The tendency to shy away from difficult interpretations not only renders Scripture less impactful but also dilutes the lived experiences of those who confront these realities daily and seek to make meaning of what is happening to them.
Saving ourselves is not about creating an escapist bubble of churchly naivety while the world crumbles around us…
The world is impossibly complex now, and will only continue to be so. We must learn to adapt to this complexity, to dance with it and to allow it to be what it is.
Those of us who weep with Mary also hear the assignment she was given–to turn to her community and remind them of the unconquerable truth of God’s love.
Palm Sunday confronts every community that confesses Christ. The king who enters Jerusalem does not resemble the rulers people had learned to recognize. He does not arrive with armies or weapons. Instead, he embodies a kingdom grounded in humility, service, and reconciliation.
If the words of Paul sound harsh, it is because they are–and I am glad that they are. To those who treat other people as bottomless vessels for pain, Paul delivers these rebukes: “This is not lawful. This does not please God. Christ is not in this.”