Beangirl will be seven at the end of the week. She had her party earlier in the month – trying to avoid the possibly hilarious party game of ‘count the contractions!’ – and it was lovely, sunny fun. We made felt finger puppets and DIY ziplock bag ice cream (google it – it may change your summer), and ate sticky strawberry meringues.
When he said it, I wondered if it was just about food. It may have been. But the conversation seemed to deepen, and I think he was speaking about something else.
Blue and I were sitting on the bench in our garden. He said that he was having that feeling again.
That feeling?
Yes. The feeling of wanting something… but not knowing what.
This Sunday, the lectionary scripture lines up nicely with this line of questioning and helps us wonder about the Gospel’s first teachers and enablers, both male and female. We’ll be reading from Luke’s Gospel, which is often noted for its inclusive take on gender.
There’s a game that Blue and I play. Honestly, I’m a little surprised that he’s still into it. We started before he could even talk – he’d be bundled up in the wrap on my front and as we’d walk through the city together I would tell him about all the things we could hear. When he started to talk, we’d take turns listening and sharing. And he still likes to play it.
It is a miracle story – and as such presents a few problems when we read it today. We’re not quite sure what to do with miracles. Embrace them? Avoid them? Dismiss them? Wonder if they are anachronistic expressions of… what?
It’s doesn’t feel like a May long weekend. Surely, today should involve a lake, bare legs, maybe the first mosquitoes and at very least a barbecue […]
This is the moment for the church newborn. A rush of wind, a loud sound, the feeling of fire, the joy of voices raised. Such a great image – but a strange one and absolutely lacking in our usual mainstream Sunday morning decorum. I love stories like this that shake us up.
Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll be in the neighbourhood school again. It’s just across the road from our church office and manse, and I pop in from […]
The Gospel of John is filled with amazing depictions of the intimacy between God the Father and Christ. It’s a textbook in how intimacy works and how close humanity and divinity can be. And then here, in the midst of the Farewell discourse, we find promise that this modelling doesn’t finish with the earthly life of Jesus. The Spirit – the Advocate – will be with the people to teach them and remind them.
Earth Day is today. Earth Day dates back to 1970. It started in the United States and became the launch pad for the environmental movement. […]
“Much prating piffle has been spouted over this squall in a teacup.” There’s something very classy about editorial writing in the Scotsman newspaper… First, I […]
Lectionary reading is a funny discipline. Sometimes on Monday morning, it feels like it’s all about one verse. The others verses circle to provide context, but one verse demands attention. But today, it’s two whole stories, see-sawing back and forth, and I’m finding the balance in the middle.
Last week, my dad bought an Easter lily. We’ve been visiting my parents in Ottawa and the kids were quite taken with the idea of the lily when it arrived in the house. It came in all wrapped up in white paper and with purple cellophane inside. But when we took the wrapping off, there weren’t any flowers to see. Just green leaves and four or five big fat buds, but everything was green and, as Beangirl pointed out, it didn’t smell right. I told her it would – just not yet. We’d have to wait.
Just a note this morning to say that I’m in transit today – I’ll post a column tomorrow. Love, Katie
I’m not sure if they heard it mentioned at church or if I slipped it into the conversation, but the kids are wondering about Holy Week. Not the stories – they have those down pat. But the terminology. I heard them discussing it the other day and they are a little confused. They seem to think that “holy” means “ancient.” Long ago and far away and all that jazz. Which makes Holy Week into History Week or something.
Jesus was used to questions by now. If anyone asks… He sounds like a parent here – assuming that there is going to be a question and trying to solve it before trouble rears its head. The story ends with him responding to the Pharisees, as if their demand was a question, though it palpably wasn’t.
Yesterday, we had a guest preacher at church – the Very Reverend Dr John Hall, Dean of Westminster – and he brought with him this […]
This story has within it all the great father and son stories, and all the tales of brothers. It is Aegeus waiting on the cliffs for Theseus, it is the birthright battles of brothers Jacob and Esau, it is the love of Jacob for Joseph, it’s Daedalus and Icarus and a father’s fateful providing. And yet, it is more.
Maybe it’s just my greedy, foody nature, but I love the language here. Isaiah sings to my soul in this passage. This is a prophet for me. I hear this call to an attitude of abundance away from the perspective of poverty. Instead of being bound by want, and worried about cost, we’re called here to enjoy and see that there is plenty
This is one of those passages that makes for an excellent children’s story. I must confess, I do like getting a chance to share my chicken impression with a congregation. Not every day, eh? But it’s memorable as a message, too. Jesus subverting gender stereotypes and comparing himself to a nurturing mother. Jesus stretching out his arms to lovingly gather us in. And memorable, too, the glimpse of Palm Sunday ahead.