Joke to him and to me
the pews with common faces,
and here, my brown hands
tearing white loaves
for you, for you
my body broken,
i consent
Read MoreRead MoreIn the age of consent and the church, I walked through the door of lying to myself, so I could tell the truth about Jesus and love. The truth about my past wasn’t the truth about Jesus. They did not mix.
It Still Hurts: a theology of hopelessness
Churchy Sermon Sundays are focused on James the “Just”, with the latest monologue on the subject of generosity. None of it is relevant. Or, maybe it all should be relevant. I don’t know. Despair surges past our hope.
Read More