“Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” —Thomas, cited by John the Apostle, John 20:25 Since childhood, I’ve been prone to doubt and ask questions that, when spoken aloud, have been, on occasion, a …
Early this morning, on this Monday of what the church calls Holy or Passion Week, I step outside into the darkness, looking to the stars, pondering what Jesus endured on the way to his ignominious death. I want to replace the images of whips and thorns, nails piercing hands and feet, blood dripping down a …
We scooted into our Uber outside LaGuardia Airport in New York City. Somewhere along the route to Brooklyn, our driver, Ahmed, let us know he was fasting for Ramadan. “Ahh, the holiest month for Muslims,” I said. “No food or water, till 6 P.M. You must be famished.” (It was 4 P.M.) I saw him …
His eyes darted back and forth, like a caged animal searching for an escape. Or maybe he was trying to avoid locking eyes with mine. It’s been years since that day, early in my pastoral ministry, when I served in Alabama. A relative of a relative who was a member of my church asked me …
I poked my head into a colleague’s office door at Campbellsville University. Ray had known about my brother since his ALS diagnosis two years ago. I let him know Mark had passed. Ray was at his desk when I told him, mid-task, mid-day, in the ordinary flow of work. What he did next has stayed …