

Maybe you had a childhood toy that took your voice and sent it back distorted and amplified. Small choices work the same way in Proverbs 3:34-35 — God reciprocates what we put out into the world, amplifying our foolishness so we see it clearly, or honoring our wisdom in ways that matter eternally.


When we try to live by “Don’t Be Evil,” we find that we end up being evil in the end. There’s a better way.

When we try to live by “Don’t Be Evil,” we find that we end up being evil in the end. There’s a better way.
“For I am sure of this very thing, that the one who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.”

The Boys are back — one standing, one sitting — both trying to make sense of Cardinals chaos, Blues heartbreak and the first hundred days of Trump 2.0. Plus: speculation on the next album from Taylor Swift and a meditation on the mystery of Jesus’ two natures.

When one of my sisters phoned the other day, we got to talking about the church in which we grew up.
We were raised high-church Episcopalian. When you went to church there was no other place it could possibly be and nothing but worship could have possibly been going on. As the priest consecrated the body and blood for communion, he — yes, he — faced the altar and crucifix. We received communion on the tongue while we knelt at the communion rail. The lay readers — those who read the Epistle at each service — were enrobed, as were we acolytes.

“Don’t Be Evil.” If you’ve followed the tech industry long enough, you know that used to be Google’s motto. Whatever happened to that Google? We could ask that of our attempts at mere avoidance of evil, too.

Father Mark spoke matter-of-factly, perhaps with just a touch of resignation. “Oh, I’ll probably die young,” he said. “My father died when he was 43. Cardiac.”