No-one knew it was Holy Saturday that first time. No-one who lived through Good Friday would have called it anything but evil, terrible, destructive. The end of all that they had hoped for. All that excitement – the drama of being called and leaving everything to follow this new rabbi, the gradual buildup of the […]
In difficult times, our simplistic answers stop working. What is life all about? What big story am I part of?
When we picture Jesus entering Jerusalem, do we imagine the whole of the city turning out to celebrate the arrival of the Messiah? Or is there something altogether stranger happening? What does it all mean?
Do you actually know what John 3:16 means? I was shocked to discover that I didn’t, until a few days ago. Also: what on earth do snakes have to do with it?
The Second Temple was destroyed almost two thousand years ago, but the temptation to think that God has a house, that anything other than Jesus is where we could seek God’s presence, remains as strong as ever.
Am I right in thinking that Conspiracy Theories are an attempt to escape legitimate suffering? And what do they have to do with the Transfiguration?
Eleven years ago, in the Good Old Days, I walked the Camino de Santiago for 800 km across Spain. I was strongly reminded of it by this week’s Gospel story when Jesus sets out on his journey to preach and heal across Galilee
One Saturday morning almost two thousand years ago, a locally famous young man walked into the synagogue of his adopted hometown. What happens next will amaze you!
The story of how Mary became Jesus’ mother is difficult. It’s crammed full of miracles that we find hard to believe in, and angelic figures, who might be even worse, and, to top it all off, it is layered over with hundreds of years of religious art and saccharine Christmas cards and frankly sexist attitudes towards women. The story manages to be both so familiar that we can’t hear it for what it is, and simultaneously even more alien than John the Baptizer in the Judean scrub dressed up like a caveman. And yet, something still resonates. It still matters that Mary said “yes.”
John the Baptizer dressed like a caveman, ate wilderness food, and refused to cooperate with the religious authorities. Church people are well behaved, often well dressed, and rarely feast on locusts? What could the former have to do with the latter?