The "Right Way" as a Righteous Vocabulary A few days ago, I wrote about the story we tell when we're afraid — the one that points at immigrants as the cause of our scarcity rather than at the systems that created it — and about Jesus's refusal, in Matthew 20, to accept empire's logic of domination: "Not so among you." I want to pick that thread back up here, because there's a phrase I hear constantly in these conversations that deserves a closer look. "I don't have a problem

A few days ago, I had the opportunity to sit around a table with a group of clergy and a local politician. It was a good conversation. Thoughtful. Honest. The kind of conversation I wish happened more often. But there was one phrase that came up that always makes me cringe. "We need a separation of church and state." I know exactly what people mean when they say it. They're usually pushing back against the growing influence of Christian Nationalism or warning against one reli

Nonviolent resistance is not new. It is as old as the prophets who stood in the public square and refused to be silent, as old as Jesus who disrupted unjust systems without raising a sword, as old as communities of faith who have said, again and again, this is not how it has to be. As a United Methodist clergyperson, I am shaped by our Social Principles , which remind us that faith is never meant to be private or passive. The Social Principles call us to affirm the dignity an

An AI generated epic toy battle! Every so often, when I drive down 13th Street heading toward downtown Salem, Oregon, a neighboring city, I pass a house with a fenced yard that faces the street. Inside the yard are large Transformers, action figures, and dolls. Every time I pass by, they’re in different positions—locked in new poses, new standoffs, new imagined clashes. It’s clear the children who live there are staging an epic battle. Good versus evil. Heroes and villains. T

The new year always arrives with a kind of quiet insistence. It doesn’t knock loudly like a holiday or demand attention the way a birthday does. It simply shows up, standing there in the doorway of our lives, asking us to notice what has been carried forward and what might be ready to be folded differently. For me, this noticing often begins in the most ordinary of places: the laundry room. Laundry has a way of marking time. Loads come and go with the rhythm of weeks and seas

Every so often I hear — explicitly or implicitly — that women are “opting out,” “slowing down,” or somehow losing ambition, especially when it comes to their jobs. As if we all just collectively decided one day that striving was overrated and naps were the new corner office. Across workplaces and ministry contexts, women continue to shoulder disproportionate burdens, contributing extraordinary labor that too often goes unseen and unrewarded. A recent Women in the Workplace re

Every now and then, a metaphor pops into my brain that’s just too good to ignore. I love cooking and baking competitions. Lately I’ve been watching a lot of Chopped and The Great British Bake off. Chopped is a frantic Food Network show where chefs are handed a mystery basket of ingredients. As I was watching Chopped the other day, I thought: Oh my goodness… this is also pastoring. To be honest, for a fleeting moment, I thought this metaphor applied during COVID pastoring too

Hi, moms. I see you. You’re trying to get your family out the door on a Sunday morning — socks that mostly match (optional), a snack bag for the toddler, a coloring book for the preschooler, and enough caffeine to survive an hour of “shhhh” whispers and Goldfish crumbs in the pews. You’re juggling spilled milk, missing shoes, and that one kid who suddenly can’t find their other shoe even though they were just wearing it. You’re not just looking for a church to attend — you’re

As the government shutdown continues, many families who rely on SNAP (Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program) are bracing for the worst: their benefits are being paused. For millions of households across the country, this means no money for groceries next week—and no clear idea of when help will come again.