Resurrection is happening all the time: under the earth, deep within someone’s soul, for a community.
Resurrection is happening all the time: under the earth, deep within someone’s soul, for a community.
Fasting is characterized by what we’re not doing. A fast can only exist in the context of being regularly fed. Without a normal rhythm of feeding, a fast would be a pointless distinction.
Speaking of power, greens and God, there is a fantastic word that feels especially alive this time of year: viriditas. Literally meaning “greening power” in Latin, this term was coined by the 12th-century mystic St. Hildegard of Bingen, to describe divine energy.
A recent lectionary reading for Lent featured the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4:5-42). As I read the passage, I noticed something about the woman that I hadn’t seen before. I’m struck by the image of Jesus being vulnerable to a vulnerable person, asking her for water.
Eating is a daily act of healing and hope for a hurting world. This realization encouraged me to say yes when approached about writing a plant-forward (vegetarian) cookbook published by MennoMedia in 2020 called Sustainable Kitchen: Recipes and inspiration for plant-based, planet conscious meals.
Gardening done in a Sabbath spirit renews us, builds community and quietly prepares for a future we cannot control.
In front of my apartment is an unmaintained median. Rain + unmaintained space = AJ is going to grow something. I took advantage of the situation and planted beans in the median. It was mischievous, it had little risk, and it opened up a possibility for many collateral benefits.
There’s a curious phrase in the first chapter of Acts: “a sabbath day’s journey.” It refers to the short walk between Jerusalem and the Mount of Olives — just under a mile. What I love about this detail is that it shows how Sabbath is not only about what we don’t do, but about how we move through the world with intention.
