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Winter Musings

By Chris Ribaudo He waited to release a dove and for its return. He labored for Rachel’s hand. He stayed on a mountain for stone tablets. He hid in arid

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Her Love Foretells

By Sarah Graham She gazes, transfixed On Him. On Him, whose umbilical cord Still pulses with her blood. Whose lips pucker, rooting, Head bobs, searching. He, whose Word Made her.

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The Beautiful Ache of Advent

By Fr. Matt Woodley A few decades ago, on the first Sunday of Advent, I played a short clip of John Lennon’s song “Imagine” right before my sermon. I’m certain

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