I love the hymn “O Holy Night” for its drama, for its soaring melody, and mostly for its seemingly impossible theological and historical claims.
I can’t help but think of Labor Day as the side-eye holiday—as in, it’s the holiday to which we give the side-eye. We distrust it, or don’t quite know what to do with it. This is not true everywhere, of course, but on the whole, Labor Day is the holiday we’re most ill-at-ease with here in the US.
But if the Christmas story in Luke is framed with joy, there is a different kind of joy in John, a strange kind, the joy of tent-living.
Everyday liturgies shape and form us. Howard Schaap explores the simple, and surprisingly profound, liturgy of pet ownership.
But maybe of all days, Good Friday is the day to reconsider just what suffering is and to think on our own suffering.
Many of us tend to think our stories are unique, but by and large they fall into rather predictable patterns—most often, some version of the American McDream which sucks up so many of our individual stories.