Roger Nelson

In March the days are often still too short and the air is too cold, but when April comes, I’m cycling outside. Warm winds blow, the snow melts, the roads dry, and I can start riding in the flat farmlands south of Chicago. April holds boundless hope for shaking off the shackles of winter and reawakening the joy of riding. Riding into the wind is difficult. Stiff spring winds can be relentless and pushing against them can feel futile. There’s no way forward other than to put your head down and pedal.

As the pastor of a mid-sized congregation in middle America, I serve people who are red-blooded conservatives and those who are true-blue progressives. Some believe that we must “support our President” while others march in resistance. Some think we’re hurtling toward fascism. Others are convinced that liberals and lesbians are destroying faith, family, and future.

To receive these posts by email each Monday, sign up. For more commentary on this week's readings, see the Reflections on the Lectionary page. For full-text access to all articles, subscribe to the Century. Christmas begs for a story and not a theological treatise, but the story is scandalous because of its specificity, and that calls for theological reflection. As the story is told, God became this and not that. God took male shape and not female shape.