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Finals for the long-term were last week, yet the odd three-week short-term semester begins tomorrow. I remember this feeling last year, feeling that I was done for the year when in fact there were three more weeks to go. Regardless, it still feels great to be done with Hebrew, Calvin, Preaching, the Psalms, and again, Hebrew. I wrote for nearly three hours for my Calvin final and spent nearly three hours translating for my Hebrew final. Mazel tov (congratulations), to me. What am I taking for the short-term? Missional Hermeneutics of Second Corinthians. "Missional Hermeneutics," now there's a phrase you will encounter only in seminary. "Good morning, today I will be preaching about missional hermeneutics" [congregation's eyes glaze over].

Seven Stanzas At Easter By John Updike Make no mistake: if He rose at all it was as His body; if the cells' dissolution did not reverse, the molecules reknit, the amino acids rekindle, the Church will fall. It was not as the flowers, each soft Spring recurrent; it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled eyes of the eleven apostles; it was as His flesh: ours. The same hinged thumbs and toes, the same valved heart that--pierced--died, withered, paused, and then regathered out of enduring Might new strength to enclose. Let us not mock God with metaphor, analogy, sidestepping, transcendence; making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the faded credulity of earlier ages: let us walk through the door. The stone is rolled back, not papier-mache, not a stone in a story, but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow grinding of time will eclipse for each of us the wide light of day. And if we will have an angel at the tomb, make it ...