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SheLoves Magazine is a community of women committed to God’s imperatives of love and justice in the world led by Idelette McVicker. Back in the early days when the magazine had just made it’s on-line debut, Idelette invited me to write about spirituality. From there our friendship grew – and so did my role at SheLoves! Now we conspire together, and much of that can be seen on the pages and posts of SheLoves each month. What an amazing group of dangerous women!


Holy Hindsight
In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. According to Luke, the days were an unprecedented blur. The emperor called for a worldwide census, the first of its kind. The leadership in Judea (and every other region in Roman territory) scrambled to facilitate the massive registration of citizens. Everyone made plans to return to ancestral villages or host extended family traveling from afar. The known world was astir as Augustus tried…
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Fighting Words
Jesus is Lord! I’ve been singing this since I learned my first praise song under the wing of Mary at Saint Nicholas Church. Those around me sang it with a triumphant yawp. We’d summon our religious fervor and pierce the sky with our declaration about God who reigned supreme. We stood exuberant in our praise. Some called us charismatic crazies, but we didn’t care. If we could we’d shout from the church tops: Jesus is Lord! But sometimes, when the…
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Calibrating My Sight for Liberation
He’s African American—a threat. She’s Mexican—an immigrant, maybe an illegal alien. Her hijab says she is a devout Muslim, a mother of terrorists. His accent marks him as an outsider and thus, suspicious. Our current society shapes our sight of others in ways that are incongruent with the imperatives of Scripture. In days like these I find myself buried in the thickness of Exodus, our primal story of deliverance. It is a narrative about another pharaoh from another time, though…
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A Beatitude for the Privileged
“Blessed are you when you give a feast and invite those who cannot repay you; for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.” —Luke 14:14 In Luke 14, we find Jesus dining at the house of a well-connected man, a ruler who kept company with the influential and affluent Pharisees. Jesus tells them a parable about seating arrangements at a dinner party, one about the host making evaluations on who gets to sit at the seat of…
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Our Meal of Resistance
I first met Debra at our Arizona senator’s office. Our paths crossed again at an ACLU Resistance Training. This time Debra came with her partner, Candy, and shared that for decades, they’ve been organizing to secure their rights and were willing to join with us to continue the work on behalf of others. Truth be told, they offered not only solidarity but a rich education borne out of their experience. After the training session Debra invited me to her resistance…
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Hard Work and the New City
It’s hard to imagine newness in the shadow of destruction. In the days after 9/11, we suffered disorientation. How could we think beyond the pile of smoldering rubble, the loss of life and the new insecurity that riddled our national psyche? It was like that after the destruction of the Temple, no one had the capacity to imagine newness in the wake of such catastrophic loss. We feel this sensation more than we realize, more often than we dare to…
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What’s Next
On a Sunday morning one January in 2013, the central marketplace in Burundi exploded into flames. By the day’s end the hub of the local economy melted, ending the livelihood of too many. Dozens of mothers waited at the front gate of our little bank the following morning. They cried, lamenting their loss and fearing their future without inventory or income. My husband opened the gate and mourned with them. It was a day when only lament seemed appropriate. Claude…
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we start at a loss
I am at a loss. In the aftermath of the U.S. election I see the national terrain differently. I see people differently. The veneer is gone. I can’t unsee what’s been revealed. I made time to lament for seven days. Black was all I saw, all I felt, and so all I wore. The grief felt appropriate and yet premature. I retreated to the words of Isaiah, as I often do. (The book of Isaiah is called The Fifth Gospel…
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When We Lament
The days following the American election plunged me into lament. Everything around me was in grayscale; everything in me was melancholy. Yet full-scale lament was premature because the worst hadn’t happened yet. What I witnessed on election night was the first fracture in the wall, not the total crumbling of the city that Daughter Zion mourned in Lamentations. So I tempered my own lament—somewhat. I allowed myself seven days to feel the sadness. Then I was determined to pay attention…
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Remember When You Were Aliens
My inheritance is a mixed bag. I am one woman’s biological daughter and another woman’s adopted child. I am a descendant of the Mexican families who populated California and also the Irish who suffered a great potato famine once. My age reveals that I am more Latina than I thought given my penchant for icons and lighting vigil candles when I pray. I even have a statue of Mother Mary in my living room. I am also more Catholic than…
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