Allison Connelly-Vetter
Allison Connelly-Vetter (she/her) received a Master of Divinity from Union Theological Seminary where she studied disability theology. She is the Children, Youth, and Families Program Coordinator for Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community and a racial justice organizer for the Center for Sustainable Justice at Lyndale United Church of Christ. Allison co-convenes the Disability Theology Discussion Group and serves on the United Church of Christ Disabilities Ministries Board. Her writing can be found in Dear Joan Chittister: Conversations with Women in the Church (Twenty Third Publications, 2019), Liberating Liturgies 2.0 (Women’s Ordination Conference, 2020), and Catholic Women Preach: Raising Voices and Renewing the Church Year B (forthcoming, Orbis Books). Allison and her wife Brooklyn live in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
Blog Posts
Somehow this week I ended up spending the majority of my non-working hours doing research on a little known side character in the story of Saul found in the Hebrew text of 1 Samuel 28. AS ONE DOES.
Each week, we’ll offer a curated selection of blog posts that speak to the upcoming lectionary texts to help spark your imagination and serve as a thought partner for you. We hope these musings meet you right where you are with a fresh, bold, and faithful witness.
Each week, we’ll offer a curated selection of blog posts that speak to the upcoming lectionary texts to help spark your imagination and serve as a thought partner for you. We hope these musings meet you right where you are with a fresh, bold, and faithful witness.
When a state’s policies become intolerant of the neighbors of our other countries and they seek division, it is the church’s job to proclaim the unity of the nation of believers that is without border. It is the church’s duty to remind both the church and the world that the love of neighbor is the foundation to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Much of the loss to church participation in U.S. Protestantism is simply a loss of casual participation and affiliation.
Four years later, our building has 200 reservations a month, with thousands of people passing through our doors. Documentary showings, protest rallies, 12-step groups, mutual aid circles, and free meals fill our building from sun up to sundown–all of them values-aligned, community-benefitting events that create real Gospel impact, whether or not they are explicitly faith-based.
Each week, we’ll offer a curated selection of blog posts that speak to the upcoming lectionary texts to help spark your imagination and serve as a thought partner for you. We hope these musings meet you right where you are with a fresh, bold, and faithful witness.
In all the headlines about “the decline of the church,” we are missing that a lot of people still have much they believe in, and they are still deeply faithful. Many of them just don’t see the church as speaking to what they are experiencing every day.
Each week, we’ll offer a curated selection of blog posts that speak to the upcoming lectionary texts to help spark your imagination and serve as a thought partner for you. We hope these musings meet you right where you are with a fresh, bold, and faithful witness.
Ableism
has always tried
to turn disability itself
into the problem.
As though the injustice
is the wheelchair
instead of the stairs.
The autistic child
instead of the cruelty.
The chronically ill body
instead of the systems
that abandon it.
The incense of myrrh is made from “tears” formed when the sap of the myrrh tree hardens after cuts in the trunk expose the sap to air. Myrrh comes from tears.
When we see John’s accounts of Mary Magdalene as a throughline from her bearing witness to Jesus raising her brother Lazarus from the dead, to anointing Jesus’ feet with pure nard, and then staying steadfast at the foot of the cross, and then — come Easter morning — refusing to leave the Garden when the tomb is found empty, demanding, even, of a man she mistakes as the Gardner “Where did you put my Lord?” so that she might go rescue his mutilated corpse — when you see this throughline of this disciple, this leader, Mary Magdalene, we see why she is called Mary the Tower.
It calls back something in Jacob, about the blessing that he stole, the one that caused the rift between him and his brother, that sent him into exile for twenty years. That’s not this one. This blessing is for him. It’s really his. He is finally worthy of his own blessing.
Within the Bible’s many pages are texts that sanction military violence, impose limits on its use, and imagine a world beyond it. Given the diversity of social settings—and the more than thousand years over which these texts were composed—this should hardly surprise us. The Bible’s reflections on war are every bit as complicated as our own.