This past Sunday, we stayed in that powerful yet confusing space of Eastertide—the in- between: That place where the resurrection has happened… but everything has not yet settled; Where Jesus is alive, but life still feels a little uncertain, Christ is present but not present. Those

This past Sunday, I preached on the theme “Foggy Faith,” rooted in Luke’s account of the confusion and doubt that followed the resurrection. It is the moment where two disciples, overwhelmed and uncertain about what had just happened, left Jerusalem to return to the town of

This coming Sunday, I am preaching a text I have never preached before. Whenever we talk about Resurrection Sunday, most preachers immediately focus on the empty tomb, or the encounter between Jesus and Mary, or even His appearance to the disciples in the upper room. But

My father was a twin! His twin brother, my uncle, is Donald Bell. Ronald and Donald were identical twins! In fact, my grandmother had another set of identical twins—my aunts Darleen and Doreen. So out of the nine children she had, two sets of them were

Do you remember that song, “Back Stabbers” by the O’Jays? Every time I think about the story of Lazarus ‘being raised’ from the dead, I can almost hear that song playing in the background. Let me pause and explain. Lazarus was not resurrected, he was resuscitated.

Beloved, This coming Sunday I will be preaching from the lectionary text, Psalm 23. It is a psalm we know by heart. We all grew up hearing it, praying it, or reciting it at some point in our lives. It carries a unique gift: it is

Beloved, This coming weekend we will gather for Vision Day. It is not simply a meeting or a presentation. It is an invitation. An invitation to pray together, dream together, and discern together what God is calling us to become in this season of our life

Mercy Amba Ewudziwa Oduyoye is a brilliant Ghanaian Methodist theologian, and the founder and former director of the Institute of African Women in Religion and Culture at Trinity Theological Seminary in Ghana. I referenced her work this past Sunday when I talked about reframing our theology

The Bell Family, The Pearl, and the Sacred Thread that Still Holds Us. Can I share a story with you? My daddy’s name was Ronald. His father’s name was Charles. Charles’ father’s name was Percy. Percy’s father’s name was Henry. And somehow—Henry Bell was family to

I have never been comfortable with the name Black Harry. “Black” was not a neutral descriptor. It functioned as a divider in the road—marking Harry Hoosier as ‘other’ to white Methodists while quietly reminding him that he was not quite the person that the movement claimed