The Wittenberg Door 157

The laughter of a faithless culture is bitter, derisive. It no longer springs from a merry heart but from dry bones. A culture of faith is a culture that can…

My miracles are many, too many to count or explain. Maybe yours are too.

Although my vision, and my neck, and my sense of balance, and certainly my sense of hope, were all impaired, I could still prune. And as I pruned, I reflected…

Those who had previously greeted me with smiles and handshakes find ways to hint through word and deed that I am no longer one of them ...

As I picked up litter, I had ample time to reflect upon the stunning parallels between human pollution and sin.

Jess never missed calling me today, even when I was half a world away. This marks the eleventh year that my phone will not ring.

The man of faith knows that even the deepest darkness may be irradiated

Whether the remains of St. James lie there or not, most of our band will likely return again to travel a new way to Santiago.

O’Connor’s fiction does not offer sentimental portraits of faith—it tests faith.

Christ’s resurrection offers assurance in the face of inevitable, implacable death. But it doesn’t come easily

Many who grieve have discovered that we are not weaker but stronger in our newfound awareness of what matters to us.

My wife would say you either are paying attention or you aren’t

Death often challenges our view of the physical and invisible worlds.

God invites us to experience life in a timeless eternity. Real life.

So live like the oyster, eat an oyster, and remember to recycle your shell for the benefit of future generations of man and mollusk alike.

Parental bereavement is as profound as the lifelong changes that accompany it

love is the most powerful force in the world.

The Bible tells us there is life within the Kingdom—life for us and life for what is around us.

Grief is not a process to work through, a disorder to heal, a condition to treat, or an illness to cure.

That which we most value is often that which most frequently slips into dull repetition.

Poetry must be experienced, and the experience of poetry is itself a means of searching, a kind of hunting, for wisdom.

Rituals are our allies in sorrow. They help us appreciate what brief time we had with our loved ones while acknowledging the years we will face without them.

Like Mary and all Israel waiting for the Messiah, like a mother welcoming a child, we are to “wait for it with patience.”

And so, feeling blessed by the rich experiences of my ministry, I stand at the start of a new year in the dying days of the old one.