Altars were known to be sacred places of sacrifice, places where blood of animals were shed for the appeasement of gods and goddesses. It was a way of evening the score and to correct wrongs. When I grew up, the alter was The Great Untouchable. I remember going up to the alter for the first time during my Catholic confirmation classes. They showed me where consecration happened, upon a holy stone underneath the simple bleach-white linen overlay. It was stunning to me that something so simple as a cloth and some words would be so powerful as to change water into wine. Stunning, then confusing, then, eventually, just plain crazy. It took me years to find a theological explanation of sacrifice that somewhat made sense to me. I knew that I was not a sinner, despite my catholic background. I didn’t believe in sin, per se; I believed in injustice based out of brokenness. I knew this because I have seen brokennness heal and justice served. The Jesus I knew had little to say about personal s...
understandings on the Journey