We didn’t make much of Lent when I was growing up. We were kinda-sorta Methodist. The lower working-class neighborhood we lived in was predominately Roman Catholic. I remember my neighborhood friends discussing what they could give up for Lent with the least amount of pain. (Bubble gum, but not Juicy Fruit.) I came to faith in the Jesus Movement, which was all about praise and worship and expectation of the second coming, which was nice, but, again, no mention of Lent. I was ordained in the...

Language is never static. Conversely, it evolves, develops, and takes on varying nuances and meanings. Cases in point: The Hebrew scriptures were written over a long period of history from nomadic tribal conflicts through vast powerful empires. The Christian scriptures were written during the dominance of the Roman Empire with its despotic emperors and brutal military. Most early followers of Jesus were poor, lower-class, or enslaved. As a result, the Bible refers to God as Father, Lord,...

Wednesday, February 11, 2026, will be my 75 th  birthday and the 40 th  anniversary of my son Elliott’s suicide. He would be 55-years-old. Valentine’s Day will mark the 40 th  anniversary of his burial in Memorial Gardens, Colorado Springs, Colorado. Everything changed forty years ago. A weak genetic link snapped. Depression descended like a thick wet quilt. Sorrow erupted from some unconscious crypt and washed over me time and again like relentless brutal surf and murderous undertow. The...