The story that dominates this time of year almost as much as Clement Moore’s A Visit from St. Nicholas is found in two of the New Testament Gospels: Matthew and Luke. Bible scholars today debate how much, if any, of them is historically accurate since
I want to share this obvious observation: Even if there were some remote chance I could become pope … they would never let me. The reason is simple and it is not because of my progressive views of Christian theology, or the fact that I
While Jacob sat patting his young pup, his mother finished serving several portions of the evening meal into a large covered dish, and added a bag containing bread for all those who watched that night. It would be his job to take these meals to
I know it is the time for the all important holidays. You know the ones I’m talking about. Thanksgiving and Christmas to mention the two that stands out in my mind. I think of those holidays fondly for many reasons. One of the most important
Once upon a time, or so the story goes, in a land far away, lived a nation of people very different from us. Their appearance was different, as were their customs and clothing. And they had no idea of the one true God. Among the
It is so easy to go blind and deaf at Christmas. Blinded by garish lights, “sale” signs and mobs of anxious, cranky shoppers. Deafened by tinny renditions of “Rudolph” and “Frosty,” not to mention the sweet strains of “Silent Night” from the automotive department of
I originally wrote this little poem last year, and though it mentions LGBT issues very briefly, it’s designed for everyone to enjoy and think and reflect on. I got to thinking about the fact the other day that we have so much diversity in and
Each year there is a moment when Christmas arrives. It doesn’t arrive before Halloween when some stores start putting out their Christmas stuff. It doesn’t happen when the panic hits that old Cousin George will be here for Christmas, too, and you have no bed
A Gift For Jesus Mary gave him her womb for nine months, then her loving for thirty-three years. Joseph gave him his name, Jesus bar Joseph. The Magi brought him gifts — gold for a king, frankincense for a priest, and myrrh for one who
After I was outed in 1981, I resigned from Baptist College and moved to Atlanta. I began to dread the holidays. I worked for a delivery service and put myself on to work every Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Day. I did not want to
