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Jumped in the River, What Did I See?

I am in Red Hook, Brooklyn, just across the harbor from Downtown Manhattan. I have dropped off my son on his first full day of school. The day seamlessly conflates with that morning of a day sixteen years before. The Twin Towers are burning. The sky, that sharp and flawless painful blue, is the same

Charlottesville, Racism, and Sins of Omission

If I am having so hard a time formulating even a first sentence about Charlottesville, I can only guess the feat at hand for the sermon writer scrambling to pen something necessary and coherent and urgent and and and. And I hope it is every sermon writer - especially every white sermon writer. I hope

Everything is Terrible.

Let's break it.

And David Bowie as Pontius Pilate

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zVq-JWdyvGI Aloof, merciless, terrifying, David Bowie is my favorite Pontius Pilate. In his bored, British accent he is empire. He is Senatus Populusque Romanus. He is Britannia. He is Pax Americana. He is lethal. This Ziggy Stardust, this Aladdin Sane, this Thin White Duke, this chameleon that has captured our hearts, now he is he

“This is the End – For Me the Beginning of Life”

In the early hours of this morning at the Flossenbürg concentration camp, Dietrich Bonhoeffer was led to the gallows among Nazi guards and hanged until he was dead. It was not Palm Sunday seventy-two years ago. In fact, Easter fell on April Fool's Day in 1945. Today, Jesus is led into the streets among joyful