A Jewish tradition shows how to read between the lines
At first glance, the Nativity scene outside Lake Street Church in Evanston, Illinois, has all the traditional hallmarks: Figures resembling Mary and Joseph stand near a baby Jesus, who rests in a manger.
But this year, the details are decidedly different. For starters, Mary and Joseph are wearing gas masks. Jesus, who typically is depicted lying in hay, is instead nestled in a reflective blanket often used by immigrants in detention, with his hands bound with zip ties. And behind the family stands three Roman centurions wearing vests with a very modern label: ICE, or U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement.
When friends mention some new Christian artwork, movie or novel, I confess my first thought is usually, “I wonder how bad it is.”
“I used to play with my matchbox cars on the mosque’s carpet frames,” said artist Harout Bastajian, who now lives in Dearborn, Michigan. “I somehow grew up in the part of Lebanon during the war where Christians (and) Muslims lived in harmony.”
A 25-foot mural at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Manhattan, unveiled and blessed during Sunday Mass on Sept. 21, honors generations of immigrants to New York, taking on a new meaning in today’s political climate.
Can poetry or other writing really be “Mennonite”? Scholars have debated this question for decades.
Sometimes during the harried first years of raising toddler, then preschooler twins, one with Down syndrome, I escaped through our woods to the creek, Briery Branch, and stacked rocks.
A globe-shaped metal sculpture was unveiled July 12 at the Mennonite Central Committee Connections Thrift Shop and MCC Material Resources Center in Kidron, Ohio.
