What are we to do when our regular structures of corporate worship have been upended and public gatherings are prohibited?
As I Was Saying
This is The Banner's online opinion column, from a variety of different writers, published Fridays.
From time to time I will write my own psalms as prayers or reflective praises to God.
Breathless, Lily pauses and then warmly says, “Mary!” just as Jesus would have.
This Easter, there will be none of that. No large family gatherings around brightly decorated shared tables, no community egg hunts for excited young children, no overflowing churches filled with praise.
In this time of social isolation, of staying home and canceling gatherings, church has become the one dependable regular event in our family’s schedule.
Here are some things I’ve noticed since COVID-19 was labeled a pandemic.
It is when crises in life happen that we face our unadorned self—the impoverished, isolated, insecure soul undefined by career success, honors, achievements, or approval.
The Spirit’s work in me is more often than not a slow series of micro-conversions.
Whereas trees held up by stakes and supports can potentially grow weaker, those that are left to “fend for themselves” against gentle and moderate winds grow stronger as their roots grow deeper.
The night I met the young street woman through whom God would open my eyes, the cold was especially penetrating.
Even though this outbreak presents serious challenges to our faith and institutions, it is worth pointing out that this is not the first time Christians have encountered harmful contagious diseases.
In the moment, I was unable to see another way, and I chose the route of suicide in my attempts to stop the pain.
I see the discipline of Lenten fasting more as an opportunity to refocus our values, a regular reminder of our spiritual callings through giving up something we take for granted.
Can there be a morality or theology to the structures and systems of language?
Philosopher Bernard Williams coined the term “moral luck” to describe circumstances where moral praise or blame is granted to a person because of circumstances beyond their control.
The conversation needs to shift from trying to convince each other to a pragmatic discussion of where we go from here.
By one account, thunder peeled in loud claps—then rain showers—but as soon as it appeared it peacefully went away, a rainbow appeared overhead, and this feeling of calm came over Carl.
As our society dives deeper into a digital world, the church has an opportunity to directly address what is unseen.
We, as believers in Jesus, in the church, are people who are called to action. Yet we all have unique backgrounds, and we come from a variety of ethnicities.
I can choose to hit each note precisely and be on my own or I can elect to more or less sing the right notes in a kind of approximate way but at least be singing along with the others.
The church is a community of vulnerability. And God intends that to be our strength.
It was mid-December. We were all waiting. But we weren't waiting like the rest of the world.
The measures churches have implemented to protect people are largely reactionary, not preventative. How do you hedge against a sin that originates in the human heart?
Babel is, after all, the key narrative to which we can trace the origins of our current predicament of globalization.