Month: August 2025

For my people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living water, and dug out cisterns for themselves, cracked cisterns that can hold no water [Jeremiah 2:13, a portion of the OT reading for this Sunday, the Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost, RCL, Year C]. Thirty feet beneath the streets of Istanbul, we descended into one of the most breathtaking spaces I’ve ever encountered. The Basilica Cistern, built in the sixth century to serve Constantinople, stretches across nearly an acre of underground chambers. Three hundred thirty-six columns rise from the shallow water like an ancient forest, their capitals supporting graceful arches that disappear into shadows. Soft lighting…

Now the word of the LORD came to me saying, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations” [Jeremiah 1:4-5]. There was a moment, early in my mother’s womb, when there wasn’t really a “me” at all. There was just “us” —my identical twin, Todd, and me, completely and utterly conjoined, sharing the same cellular beginning, the same genetic blueprint, the same dark, warm universe that would nurture us both. We were, for that brief time, one flesh in the most literal sense possible. But then something mysterious happened. Somehow, in ways…

“Am I a God near by,” says the Lord, “and not a God far off?” [Jeremiah 23:23]. YHWH’s question, found at the beginning of the alternate Old Testament lesson for this upcoming Sunday [23:23–29, the Tenth Sunday after Pentecost, RCL, Year C], feels like comfort at first hearing. Of course we want a nearby God, accessible and intimate. But Jeremiah won’t let us rest in that assurance. The God who is near is also the God who fills heaven and earth, from whom no secrets are hidden. Divine proximity in this part of the prophet’s text means exposure rather than refuge, penetrating presence rather than protective shelter. Jeremiah’s words are…

Two months ago, Jane was away for the weekend, so I broke our Sunday routine and sat alone on the back row at Blacknall Presbyterian instead of our usual spot two-thirds back on the left side. Earlier that morning, in the parking lot, a woman I’d seen before—probably mid-forties, clearly struggling with mental health or substance issues—had approached me asking for money. In our nearly cashless world, I had none to give. She muttered some expletives; I wished her a good day and headed inside. Fifteen minutes into the service, she entered the sanctuary. I didn’t see her at first, but then felt a not-so-gentle shove to my shoulder. “Can…

This Sunday’s second reading from Hebrews [11:1-3, 8-16] offers us one of the most stirring passages in all of Scripture. You’ve likely heard it quoted at funerals or seen it referenced in discussions about faith: Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” [11:1]. The passage goes on to tell the stories of biblical heroes — Abraham and Sarah, Moses, Noah — but not in the way we might expect. These aren’t tales of people who had everything figured out, who possessed unshakeable certainty about God’s plans. Instead, they’re stories of men and women who acted on promises they knew they would never…