This Sunday we as the church will celebrate Pentecost. According to Acts 2, on Pentecost the Holy Spirit came upon the disciples like tongues of fire and inspired them to speak in different languages, so that the crowds that had gathered in Jerusalem each heard the good news of Jesus in their own language.

Perhaps no other words are so misused by churches than when Jesus says in John 14:6: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” Too many preachers use this as an exclusive claim for Christianity: Accept Jesus, or go to hell!

In the late 14th century there lived a remarkable nun named Julian, who lived in an abbey in Norwich. As a young woman, she had a profound and intimate experience of God that she spent her lifetime trying to put into words.

This was holy ground. This was a holy place.

Our Civil Rights Pilgrimage had led us here to the National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery.

Psalm 23 is one of the best-beloved Scriptural passages. Most funerals I perform use the psalm. For those who use the lectionary, we encounter it several times each year, including this fourth Sunday of Easter, which (not surprisingly) is known as Good Shepherd Sunday.

I began to write my reaction to the shootings from the last few weeks, when I looked back at words I wrote less than a year ago. The same feelings then rose up again in me now.

Thomas gets a bad rap. Think about it. Whenever you hear about the disciple Thomas, what do you call him? “Doubting Thomas,” as if his doubts or his questions are what defined him as a person.

This Sunday we begin the celebration of Easter, of God raising Jesus from the dead. We “unbury” our Alleluias and let our praise for God’s wonderful work sound forth.

Think for a moment about a special time with your family or extended family. Chances are that it centered around a meal.

“What will you do every day to think about issues of race?”