Jesus Christ, Karl Marx, and Michael Brown
Human labor is not a commodity. Recent articles on “Ferguson, One Year Out,” which I was reading
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Human labor is not a commodity. Recent articles on “Ferguson, One Year Out,” which I was reading
Some time ago, I served a parish in a Southern California beach community as the
Dr. Claire Colombo has served on the seminary’s adjunct faculty since 2012. As a freelance educational consultant, she develops religion curriculum for Loyola Press of Chicago and is a regular contributor to their Finding Godmagazines and newsletters.
It’s been a wordy month. It began with the Christmas season—the Word made flesh and all that. Then came a flurry of words to meet some professional deadlines. And then came an invitation to take myself, in the flesh, to one of those wordy events you see listed in the Happenings column of the Chronicle and proceed to ignore. In this case, it was a launch party for a new literary journal in town. Not only would I attend it, the invitation went, but would I write some words about it, too?
I would. I had already planned to attend another wordfest—a reading by poet Naomi Shihab Nye—so I promised to blog about them both.
Madeline Shelton is a middler in the M.Div. program and comes to Seminary of the Southwest from the Diocese of Texas.
In our reading for this eleventh day of Christmas, Christ heals a man who was born blind. Christ does not say a few words and instantly open the man's eyes. In fact, leaning down to the ground, Christ spits his very own saliva onto the dirt and makes a paste with the mud. Once applied, Jesus orders the man to wash in a pool, and the man sees for the first time.
R. Scott Painter is a Junior in the M.Div. program at Seminary of the Southwest. Scott comes to Seminary of the Southwest from the Diocese of Texas.
My wife and I were married in 1995. It was a summer wedding in the Pacific Northwest. A beautiful day in a beautiful place. We celebrated with lovely friends and cherished family. It was the day for which we had been waiting and preparing over the course of months and months. The culmination of those preparations went off without a hitch. Everything was perfect on the big day. Our lives would not be the same from thence forward.
The next morning, I was overwhelmed with a feeling that I’ll never forget, summed up in the words that rushed through my head as I looked over at my sleeping bride: “Oh my God, what have I DONE?!”
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