Jeremiah 31:1–6 · Acts 10:34–43 · Matthew 28:1–10 "We are soot-covered urchins running wild and unshod We will always be remembered as the orphans of God They will dig up these ruins and make flutes of our bones And blow a hymn to the memory
Readings: Exodus 17:1–7 · Psalm 95 · Romans 5:1–11 · John 4:5–42 I imagine, that it was a hot day when the Samaritan woman set out. I imagine the midday sun heating her skin as she walked to the well—sweat beading on her forehead. I imagine
A Sermon on Genesis 12:1–4a, Romans 4:1–5, 13–17, and John 3:1–17 "Go from your country and your kindred and your father's house to the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation, and I
I don’t know about you, but I used to love apocalyptic films: Alien invasions, panicked pandemics, climate change catastrophes, government breakdowns, and nuclear fallout—our culture has depicted its own destruction in a myriad of ways. And I use to love them all. At least I did, back when
“What is the meaning of hope in a period of history when things are getting worse?” This is a question the Canadian theologian Gregory Baum asked as he watched in helpless horror as the first Gulf War began in the early 90’s. Ever an Augustinian, Baum saw this war
Let’s not kid ourselves—we are living in the midst of ruins. Like a boreal forest that has been clearcut and replanted, the landscape might, at first glance, appear as if the trees we see now are the trees that always were. Yet the health, the very identity of
I can pinpoint the moment I first felt it. Like the feeling of shock plunging into a pool of icy water, followed by a gasp for air—and then the numbness. The moment was a church meeting in which, early in my ordained ministry, a community was debating putting forward
A few days before General Synod, I dreamed a dream. I was in a large conference centre where various churches were gathered for an ecumenical conference, peculiarly located in the midst of a forest on a hillside. The centre had one small window revealing the vibrant forested valley below. The
Julia Loktev’s film The Loneliest Planet in review In the midst of a multiplicity of choices, it is difficult to find a film these days whose images and narrative do not come with a short expiration date. For anyone who has ever been in love, The Loneliest Planet is
In the lead-up to the last Lambeth Conference, I was asked by the Theological Education in the Anglican Communion to join an international panel of Anglican scholars in producing teaching materials to help Anglican seminarians across the Communion to engage with the climate crisis. My task on this panel was