I was listening last week to Kim and Penn Holderness’ podcast, Laugh Lines  (it drops on Tuesdays), and I found myself nodding along more than I expected. They were naming the very real struggle of trying to keep people’s spirits up in tumultuous times—how exhausting it can be to show up with humor or lightness when the world feels like it’s unraveling. They also spoke honestly about the tension of wanting to speak up for their neighbors while worrying about the safety of the

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

Sometimes I genuinely wonder what people actually hear when I preach. Not what I say . Not what I carefully pray over, study, write, revise, and deliver. What people hear . Do they hear one word they don’t like and then mentally check out for the remaining fifteen minutes? Do they grab onto a phrase, assume they know where I’m going, and stop listening before I even get there? I suspect that happens more often than we’d like to admit. Last week, I was chatting with a congrega