On the Slaying of Dragons

In The Little Flowers of St. Francis, a collection of stories about St. Francis, his brothers, and the people whose lives he touched, we find a little story about how St. Clare had desired to eat with St. Francis. But St. Francis kept refusing to eat with her. His brothers finally came to him and said, “St. Clare converted at your preaching, and not eating with her seems a bit stiff and lacking in charity.” So St. Francis replied, “Does it seem right to all of you that I should consent to eat with her?” And all the brothers gave a resounding Yes! And so, St. Francis agreed to meet her and her companions with his own brothers at the chapel of St. Mary and the Angels, where St. Clare had performed her religious vows. As they ate, they began to talk about God, and, we are told, the glory of God descended upon all those present to such a degree that they were all in a state of ecstasy. 

What We Need, When We Need It

Years ago, I was working with a youth group up in Washington, and there was one evening where I couldn’t attend the gathering. On that particular evening, one of the high school girls, who played volleyball, had hurt her knee quite badly. It was swollen, and she was limping around. At one point during the evening, I’m told, the pastor and the kids surrounded her and prayed for her. The youth pastor told me, “It was amazing. As we were praying, you could see the swelling go down, and afterward, she was able to walk without a limp. I’m still just shocked. It’s a miracle!”

And in response, I said, “That is amazing. That’s awesome.” And then I paused, and added, “I really wish I could have been there to see it for myself.” Translation: “Hmmm. Is this really true?” I’ll admit, I questioned that story a bit. Because, after all, “Seeing is believing,” as the saying goes. And in this case, I would really have liked to see it, rather than just taking people’s word for it.

The Death of God

Lectionary Readings: Year A, Holy Week, Good Friday In 1883, the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche famously declared “God is Dead.” You’ve probably heard the phrase thrown about when discussing atheism, because Nietzsche is saying that God is just a social construct used to justify all sorts of evil and violence. If you read his work, you

The Proof Is In The Pudding

Now, I know you might be wondering why I’m talking about sausages and phrases that started out in the 1600s but evolved into something else over time. After all, isn’t the Gospel today about this famous conversation with Nicodemus about being “born again?” Doesn’t it include the famous line, “For God so loved the world?” What’s this about pudding?

What We Have Now

Imagine for a moment that you are in a desert. Not just what we experience outside of this town we live in, but an emotional and spiritual desert in which you feel isolated from others. Where you feel that you are alone, with no one to talk to, and nothing that feeds your soul with freshness or joy. Imagine that you are in this place, and now think of what would be your biggest desire. 

For most of us, it would likely be that we would want to be anywhere else but that desolate space. We would believe that what we are experiencing now is not what we should be experiencing. That anyplace other than this desolate wilderness is better than where we are now.

Wear It Well

This is the tension that Paul lived in – between the creation of the world, between our own creation at our birth, and the New creation that comes with a life in Christ, and the creation of a new heaven and new earth that is made real by the return of Christ in all his glory. For Paul this reality of Christ’s return was so real that he anticipated the coming of Christ in everyday life.

And again, it is this anticipation that Advent tries to instill in us by setting the stage with these texts. The stage is set so that we can understand – even just a little bit – how people in Jesus’ time were anticipating the arrival of the Christ, the Messiah.