He is Risen!
He is risen indeed. Stemming back to the earliest centuries of the church, the most celebrated and joyous holy day of the entire Christian calendar is remembering the day our Lord rose from the grave.
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From the blog
Gospel of John: Mary of Magdala
All four Gospel accounts describe Mary’s faithfulness and courage, a major financial supporter and patron of Jesus’s ministry, one who remained with Jesus at the foot of his cross until his death, and the first to arrive at his tomb the morning of his resurrection.
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Mary of Magdala
In this twenty minute talk, we’ll first follow Mary through the years she was a student and supporter of Jesus, then we will spend most of our time in the Garden with Mary at Christ’s empty tomb, and end with a deeper understanding of ourselves as members of the Body of Christ.
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Triumphal Entry
When Jesus was born, it was only about thirty years after the Romans had taken over Israel once again. So, there were plenty of people left who remembered what it had been like to have their own king, their own government, and freedom to live as their own people.
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A Liminal Space
This is the full Easter Sunday message for New Hope Chapel, delivered livestream April 12, 2020
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Christ Is Risen, He Is Risen Indeed
Of the volumes of written material still around from that time period, no one, not even Josephus, tried to refute the eye-witness accounts of Jesus’ resurrection. The best they could come up with was to call it magic.
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“Love Feast”
Imagine the street outside your home filled with laughing, playing children, the mouth-watering aroma of rich food being cooked over a fire wafting through your window, redolent with the heavy incense of blossoms, cedar, and spices. You look outside and see that a tumble of huts made from leafy, flowering branches has filled every outside…
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Ash Wednesday: Love Feast
Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent, which is a time of preparation to celebrate the most momentous event in earth’s history since the creation itself.
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About Me
My passion for the Bible began when I was eight or nine years old, somewhere in there, when on occasion my dad would take me to synagogue, where he sang. I remember watching the men in synagogue pray the words of scripture, murmuring and weeping, lovingly touching and kissing the Torah, and I wished I could read what they were reading.
Imagine, then, my wonder when I was given a Bible of my own! Read more
Grace and Peace, Joanne 