Every time I read the story of Jesus coming to the Jordan to be baptized, I imagine Him standing in the crowd. You could not pick Him out. His pronoun would not be uppercase. He would look like everyone else really; bland, dirty clothing, smelling like a train car in France, a fly whizzing around in his hair.
By Joel Hess – When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me Speaking […]
By Joel Hess Yes, last night I could not avoid watching some of the Beatles’ 50th anniversary show […]