Author: trob

But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things, but few things are needed–indeed only one” [Luke 10:41-42a]. Growing up at Olney Presbyterian Church in Gastonia, I often watched the deacons prepare for our monthly covered dish suppers. Half a dozen men would arrive early to wrestle heavy collapsible tables down from the stuffy attic, set up chairs, and make sure everything was ready before the meal. Afterward, they stayed late to clean up, fold chairs, and haul it all back upstairs. An uncle was one of those deacons. He wasn’t a complainer by nature, but now and then I’d hear him mutter under…

A Meditation on Amos 7:7–17 … but never again prophesy at Bethel, for it is the king’s sanctuary, and it is a temple of the kingdom [Amos 7:13]. Virtually everyone has heard of Isaiah or Jeremiah, those prophets with long scrolls and soaring visions. But Amos? Probably not. He’s one of the so-called “minor” prophets, tucked quietly into the middle of the Old Testament. His book is short, but his message still cuts deep. Amos was a herdsman and tree-trimmer from the southern kingdom of Judah—ordinary work, nothing priestly about it. One day, without training or appointment, he heard God call him to go north, to Israel, and speak a…

A Meditation on 2 Kings 5:1–14 Proper 9, RCL Year C The Expectation Gap Naaman was a great man — commander of the Syrian army, close to the king, victorious in battle. He was also a leper. His disease was the one enemy his military prowess couldn’t defeat, the one problem his position couldn’t solve. It was a servant girl — a young Israelite captive in his household — who suggested to his wife that he might find healing through a prophet in Samaria. So Naaman arrives at Elisha’s door with everything except an appointment. He’s brought silver, gold, festal garments — the currency of miracles, he assumes. He’s traveled…

When the days drew near for him to be received up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem [Luke 9:51, RSV]. In the Gospel lesson appointed for this upcoming Sunday, Luke 9:51-62 [the Third Sunday after Pentecost, RCL, Year C], the Gospel writer doesn’t indicate that Jesus turned his path toward Jerusalem or that, after careful consideration, he decided to go there. Luke says that Jesus “set his face.” A Semitic idiom, it’s also a vivid image. Not a glance. Not a nod. Instead, a gaze that hardens into direction, like steel cooling into a blade. In Luke’s Gospel, it’s the moment when everything shifts. From this point on,…

Before the coming of this faith, we were held in custody under the law, locked up until the faith that was to come would be revealed. So the law was our guardian [Greek: paidagōgós] until Christ came that we might be justified by faith. Now that this faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian [Galatians 3:23-26]. There are seasons in the life of faith when it feels as though we live under strict supervision. The rules are clear, the boundaries set. Right and wrong are carefully marked, and our spiritual world is fenced by expectations. These seasons can feel confining. But they can also be safe. There…

by Thomas A. Robinson. Copyright 2025. All rights reserved. Philip said it first—quietly, as if wonder required no force. “Come and see” [John 1:46]. To Nathanael beneath the fig tree, to the Greeks with careful questions, to all who asked more than they dared believe. From the city where stone once unsuccessfully sealed a tomb, he walked east, past borders and maps, until the hills of Phrygia received his last breath. No gospel records the words he spoke there. What remains is this: the hill remembers. The stones lean inward. A silence deeper than ruin lingers. I stood there— feet on earth that had cradled his bones, morning sun rising…

A meditation written near Ephesus By Thomas A. Robinson; copyright 2025. All rights reserved. I’m writing from Kusadasi (7 hours ahead of my friends on the East Coast), on the Aegean coast of Turkey—just a few miles from ancient Ephesus. Tomorrow, I’ll join fellow pilgrims in walking the ruins of that early Christian city, and we’ll celebrate Eucharist not far from where Paul once preached and Timothy once served. It’s also here, according to some early traditions, that Onesimus—the runaway slave mentioned in Paul’s letter to Philemon—became a bishop. Whether that tradition is historical or a kind of holy imagining, it stirs something deep. What if the man once called…

“I ask not only on behalf of these but also on behalf of those who believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me” [John 17:20-21]. On his last night with his disciples, Jesus did many things. He shared a meal with them, washed their feet, gave them a new commandment to love one another, and answered question after question about where he was going, why he was leaving, and how they would carry on without him. And after…

They were forbidden by the Holy Spirit to speak the word in Asia. When they had come opposite Mysia, they attempted to go into Bithynia, but the Spirit of Jesus did not allow them [Acts 16:6b–7, NRSV]. Sometimes, God leads by telling us where not to go. That’s what happens in Acts 16, in the verses that lead up to the First Reading assigned for this upcoming Sunday [ Acts 16:9-15 the Sixth Sunday of Easter, RCL, Year C]. Paul and his companions are traveling across Asia Minor, sharing the gospel. They’re moving intentionally, faithfully, making plans to go deeper into the province of Asia. But then something strange happens:…

Now the Son of Man has been glorified… [John 13:31]. As the Easter season moves toward its close, the lectionary takes us not forward in time but backward—to the night of betrayal, when Jesus speaks of “glory” even as Judas walks out the door. This Sunday, the Gospel reading is John 13:31–35 [the Fifth Sunday of Easter, RCL, Year C]. In John’s Gospel, glory is not a reward after the cross but is revealed through it. In these verses, Jesus gives his disciples a mandatum novum—a “new” commandment—to love one another “as I have loved you” [13:34]. The timing of that commandment matters. It is given not in triumph, but in…