I've always been skeptical of those television healers who are bald. If I had that gift, that'd be the first thing I'd fix.

I contend that Bush would be a lot more moderate if there weren't some fundamentalists breathing down his neck every time he wants to establish the state of Israel, every time he wants to do justice for the Palestinian people.

I contend that, in spite of all that might be said about Watergate, Richard Nixon was good for the poor people of America.

I've got some repenting to do. I doubt, however, that those who have wedded Christianity with laissez-faire capitalism will see things this way. I can just hear them saying, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”

I’ve got to push everything out of mind save the name of Jesus. I say His name over and over again, for as long as fifteen minutes, until I find my soul suspended in what the ancient Celtic Christians called a “thin place”–a state where the boundary between heaven and earth, divine and human, dissolves. You could say that I use the name of Jesus as my koan.

The Gospel is about grace and we all know that grace is about us receiving from God blessings that we don't deserve.

I propose that the government should get out of the business of marrying people and, instead, only give legal status to civil unions.