This is a plea for Christians to realize the significance of Isaiah 53 for their understanding of who Jesus was and what he did. I believe that he was motivated by love to take on the role of the Suffering Servant in Isaiah 53.

The RBC’s meeting wasn’t, apparently, about the conversations that could be had at the TCC. To avoid any unexpected conversations, in fact, the bank blocked access to the meeting to any but shareholders, a practice that, I’ve been told, is relatively new.

Friends of St. Timothy’s Episcopal Church, Brookings, Oregon Update:  Good and Bad News in Two-pronged City Attack on Oregon Church’s Ministries to Poor 

Christian nationalism that had led to the first world war, was now leading to the second. Almost all of the 60 million Germans in 1933 were Christians. The country was suffering in the aftermath of WWI, and it was ready for a new “Leader” who would restore the economy and national pride.

When, as an ex-Christian, I became curious about progressive Christianity several years ago, I was thrillingly surprised by what I saw in a church in my town.

Will there come a day when all human behavior can be understood as clearly as natural disasters? Will these behaviors still be considered evil?

So, how did Christianity become so mean? Although many factors contribute to mean Christianity, the primary culprit is that large numbers of American Christians, both Republicans and Democrats, care more about partisan politics and culture wars than they care about following the example and teachings of Jesus.

Friends of St. Timothy’s Episcopal Church, Brookings, Oregon Update:  Good and Bad News in Two-pronged City Attack on Oregon Church’s Ministries to Poor 

The fact is that civil-minded folk outnumber the forces on the other side. There are just more of us than there are of them. The problem is that we have not recognized the current existential threat. We slide along the path we are on, pretending as though next year will be the same as this year. It will not.

So what about loving our enemies? What do we normally feel, what do others who have modeled destructive behavior and attitudes expect us to feel and what can we possibly feel? Why should we choose not to feel what virtually everyone expects us to feel?

When the intellectual history of the 20th century is written, a few achievements will tower overall. Einstein’s theory of general relativity will be one; the laws of quantum mechanics will be another. The Big Bang Theory of the origin of the universe will be a third.

Fifty years ago, in 1974, the Combahee River Collective was founded in Boston by several lesbian and feminist women of African descent. As a sisterhood, they understood that their acts of protest were shouldered by and because of their ancestors—known and unknown—who came before them.

I’m not sure why we can be so idealistic about human love when human love is profoundly imperfect and so often unreliable.

What I know is that I need to not beat myself up for having a hard time when I’m having a hard time.

Who could have imagined only a few years ago that there would be controversy in the United States of America about the importance of democracy? 

Will American politicians stand up to Putin? Will they learn anything from the sacrifice of Navalny?

I pray, and look to scripture, and consider our role as people on an ever-changing planet as residents in and stewards of creation.

Our perceptions of gender are changing. The role of gender in our society is changing. The relationship between gender and sexuality is changing. It’s a paradigm shift that has crested and simply will not be rolled back.

When they sang together, you could hear the harmony that should define this country’s relationships across race.

One of the most challenging things in life is to stay engaged in a conversation when there are clearly very different ideologies at play.

Vigils are being held regionally and all over the world to protest the horrific war in Israel. Pro-Israeli and Pro-Palestinian advocates are demanding their people’s plights be heard.

If we want peace, it has to start with us. We must uproot violence from our language, in the ways we relate to one another.

The cross, the symbol of the Christian faith, has been the subject of much theological discussion through the ages.

We recently celebrated the life, faith and non-violence of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. The moment triggers within us a host of emotions-thankfulness for heroes such as he, distress about the state of our country, anxiety about the future, and fear for the present.

As I’m writing this commentary, the news is filled with chatter about another anniversary observance of January sixth. It’s not about the liturgical religious observance known as the Epiphany, of course; but the third-year anniversary of those days surrounding the political insurrection in our nation’s Capital.

After sharing his story, Jason asked me his provocative question, “So, do you think I am still a Christian?” I wasn’t sure how to respond. I mulled it over for a long time. I finally said, “I guess it depends on how you define Christian.

To what extent do churches accommodate the values of their worshippers and merely give them a sense of comfort, and to what extent do churches set high standards and encourage Christian growth and social commitment?

Neil deGrasse Tyson is reported to have said that “the universe is under no obligation to make sense to you.” No doubt true, but how about the inverse: are we under any obligation to make sense out of the universe?

Decades ago, I wrote a blessing prayer for this season that began with a reference to nothing but a flicker of hope in “the fading glory of these autumn days, when night creeps early on to darkness; and leaves us, bound in shadows, longing for the light.” And yet, it remains that flicker of hope that I want to write about.

If we want peace, it has to start with us. We must uproot violence from our language, in the ways we relate to one another.