It's not often that a human being is big enough to trump a Sunday observance! But the two men we honor today do just that; Mary and John the Baptist are the only others with the liturgical clout to do the same.

The wonderful season of Easter surrenders each year to what might feel like a dull doctrinal thud: the triple threat of Pentecost, Trinity, and Corpus Christi.

God is the ultimate math problem. One plus one plus one equals . . . one. If we try to solve the problem with arithmetic, we're bound to fail.

It may seem a faint expression if we compare the Feast of Pentecost to an old country song made popular by Olivia Newton-John. But what gives country music its immense and enthusiastic audience is its capacity to speak plain truths in plain ways.

"God mounts his throne to shouts of joy.” This image from Psalm 47 makes concrete what must in reality be a less tangible idea: that God takes a seat in eternity which affords a gracious and protective view of all creation.

After the departure of a loved one, what's left is often an assortment of odd things that become surprisingly meaningful. Whether the person in question has gone to war, moved away, or joined "those who have gone before us marked with the sign of faith," their parting gifts are precious.

If you had your life to live over, what would you do differently? This question is only a parlor game, of course: None of us gets a do-over from birth on out.

So let's talk frankly about the vocation crisis. We all know why we're having this problem, though public rhetoric imparts the blame to this group or that one.

Christ is the head of his body, the church. No matter who was responsible for writing Colossians 1:18, we Christians can agree on this statement. But who should mind the store until Jesus comes again in glory is a different subject entirely.

In Latin class back in high school, our doddering teacher used to try to get us motivated by telling us how useful knowing Latin would be. But we knew better. It was a dead language.