Author: revweisass
-
Longing for Mystery
What does it mean to take seriously the incarnational nature of Jesus’ command that we must be born anew?
-
Longing for Wholeness
A Sermon for the First Sunday in Lent Matthew 4:1-11 1Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.2He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished.3The tempter came and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to…
-
Butcher
The first time I told myself that I didn’t care about you anymore I took a cleaver to the connective tissue of our friendship, sundered every tenuous attachment with such ruthlessness the actions of a madwoman, grieving Did I think no one would see who I was? Who I am? Or was I afraid because…
-
The Trouble with Wanting
The trouble with wanting is I want you but you are a mystery beyond my comprehending, summons of sweet-scented blooms the bumblebee may never see nor taste. Blindly I follow after crumbs thoughtless cast upon the ground before me poor proxies they are for that in which my soul takes delights- and so I blunder on,…
-
A Real Fixer-Upper
The house of this heart was a real fixer-upper. A bona fide eyesore if you knew how to look. Good bones, she had, but see? Desuetude draped heavy on her, shrouding windows, latching doors, and in the darkness labored on, devouring sinews undisturbed ’til only bones remained. Can these bones live? Within the shadow of…
-
daily grind
and some days, I lift my eyes to the rafters and drift no more to give no more to take neither joy nor pain within my barely beating breast and I wonder: is this how the pearl of sand feels, as she grinds silently to nothing on the shadowed sea floor?
-
David and Abigail
this is part of a continuing sermon series on the stories of David. The text for this sermon is 1 Samuel 25. Let’s just begin by saying that this is *not* a great way to meet your wife. It certainly isn’t a love story, or at least, it doesn’t appear to be one. I mean,…
-
These Days
These days, so often I catch myself in the world but not of the world; in the place of boundless possibility— a liminal cloud of of unknowing— in which the heart is freed for her own choosing circumscribed by nothing save that in which her soul delights. Expansive as the universe, she radiates light.
-
beautiful eyes
The problem, as I see it: when you looked at me, when you peered in my eyes and told me you liked what you saw, (though I was not looking for anyone or anything) I liked what you saw when you looked at me. And now, when I look at myself, when I get lost…
Deeper in me than I 