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Somewhere along the way Palm Sunday became Palm/Passion Sunday.
I suddenly realized I never had the faintest notion what it feels like to be truly ostracized by an entire community and I still don't.
When Moses comes close to the burning bush God tells him to take off his sandals, because he is on holy ground. Part of me pictures a basket of shoes by God's own front door, because God doesn't want the mud and snow and salt tracked in the divine living room either.
"God said to him, 'Your name is Jacob, no longer shall you be called Jacob, but Israel shall be your name.'"
Every year on November 1, All Saints Day, I remember Sacred Heart cemetery in the town I grew up in.
I have a theory: there was an 11th commandment that fell off the tablets.
The perfect definition of a deacon: "a glorified butler."
The fact is, lots of good things have happened in my life because people I never knew filed their 1040's.
This, in essence, is what we whisper in the ear of anyone who comes to be baptized: "You are God's beloved." Those are the first words we hear. That is who we are.
Why do we sometimes choose one part of ourselves over another - as if active and passive resistance, love and anger are opposites?