Poetry The day my mother dropped a net of oranges on the kitchen table and the net broke and the oranges rolled and we snatched
This summer I completed my 11th year at East Chestnut Street Mennonite Church. I’ve been here long enough now that the anniversary comes and goes without fanfare. In fact, I rarely think about it myself. That feels good. No jailhouse calendars for me …
A crisis is a terrible thing to waste. In a down economy, this is the point: During what is now being called the Great Recession, congregations must take the opportunity to make changes more radical than would be possible during good times …
My father used to tell me there are no free lunches. Whenever something appeared too good to be true, he said, it probably was.
In the Christian church year, this is the season of waiting yet preparing for the coming of Immanuel …
