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About Sarah Condon

Episcopal clergy lady at St. Martin's Church, Houston. Mother to Neil and Annie. Wife to Josh.

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    The Handmaid's Tale: When My Zumba-Loving Heart Hit the Dance Floor

    The Handmaid’s Tale: When My Zumba-Loving Heart Hit the Dance Floor

    In Houston, Texas, Zumba is what God hath intendeth it to be. You will never hear a song in English because it is almost exclusively Latin music. Praise Jesus. Also, you will not hear many words spoken in English either. All of my teachers have been native Spanish speakers. Which is perfect, because many of the classes participants are too. So, Spanglish it is. God bless Texas. And Houston. #sanctuarycity4lyfe

    Some years ago, I attended my first Zumba class when we lived in Westchester County, New York. To say the least, I was not impressed. The music was mostly from the…

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    Free as a Mother: Telling the Devil to Sit on a Tack

    Free as a Mother: Telling the Devil to Sit on a Tack

    Last week, as my kindergartner and I approached the pool for his first swimming lesson of the season, I noticed all of the children sitting there in goggles. I panicked. Goggles! Of course! Forget that I learned how to swim without goggles. Forget that we go through 14 pairs of goggles a summer because we lose them like we are getting paid to. Forget that children the world over have swum without protective eye covering for millennia. My baby needed goggles and I forgot them.

    One more check in the Sarah is a Crappy Mom column.

    I always…

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    The Rev. Mrs. Fleming Rutledge is Not Ashamed of the Gospel

    The Rev. Mrs. Fleming Rutledge is Not Ashamed of the Gospel

    For several years now, people have been saying to me, “Sarah, you’ve got to read the Rev. Fleming Rutledge.” And for several years now I’ve politely nodded and thought to myself, “Sure, I’ll add him to the list of ordained dudes whose books I need to read.”

    That was, until last year, when I heard about Fleming Rutledge’s latest book, The Crucifixion: Understanding the Death of Jesus Christ. I googled this Fleming character and much to my surprise, this photo appeared:

    The beautiful hair, the earrings that can only be described as “earbobs,” and that scarf draped with…

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    When Jesus Gets Crucified and Churches Get Bombed: Take a Seat this Holy Week

    When Jesus Gets Crucified and Churches Get Bombed: Take a Seat this Holy Week

    As has been well before established, I was not raised with parents who fixated all that much on church. We went every Sunday. But there weren’t a lot of “extras.” We didn’t come back for any Wednesday programming. I honestly cannot remember a potluck supper. And my mother would have straight up told you that anyone who attended worship on Christmas Day needed their head checked.

    I don’t blame them. They are self-described “Recovering Southern Baptists,” of the most rural of rural Souths. Their two-services-on-Sunday-supper-on-Wednesday-oh-have-you-accepted-Jesus-Christ-as-your-Lord-and-Savior-because-if-not-hell-awaits-you box was checked years ago. 

    But once, maybe by mistake, they took me…

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    Mama Holy Spotted At SeaWorld

    Mama Holy Spotted At SeaWorld

    This week, along with millions of other blue blooded, medium-hard-working Americans, my family went on Spring Break. And it was all pretty hard. This is a travel log of sorts. Loads of complaining. Some bright spots. And some dark spots when Jesus showed up.

    Our kids are 2 and 6 years old. So we began every morning by ripping them away from the clutches of Disney Jr. so we could all head for the great tourist sites of San Antonio, Texas. 

    We stood in line for tickets for the Tower of the Americas. Twice. The first time they…

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    If This is Us, Then I Am Frank Gallagher

    If This is Us, Then I Am Frank Gallagher

    Every week millions of people tune in to watch the emotional, touching, and poignant This is Us and my Facebook newsfeed is all:

    😢

    And every week I’m like:

    🙄

    I realize that writing about my dislike of the show is akin to social atheism. We all want to believe that our family story looks like the attractive, well-written characters we see played out each week. But you can count my country ass out.

    I do not like This is Us. It feels emotionally manipulative and unrealistic. But then again, I didn’t like Parenthood either. I KNOW. KICK ME…

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    Kirk the Preacher and the Holy Ghost Album That Won't Leave Me Alone

    Kirk the Preacher and the Holy Ghost Album That Won’t Leave Me Alone

    Kirk Franklin (thanks to St. Chance the Preacher) appears to be having a moment.

    If you are all, “Who is Kirk Franklin?” then try to be less white and enjoy the following piece.

    It has been well documented on Mockingbird that I was a theatre nerd in my youth. In Mississippi public high schools, math is almost as important as football, and so theatre was below the bottom rung. It was for the weirdos, misfits, and kids who were (understandably) too scared to come out of the closet.

    Kirk Franklin’s Nu Nation Project was our joyful, heartbreaking soundtrack.

    Allow me to set a scene for you….

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    The Immigration of Our Hearts

    The Immigration of Our Hearts

    A few weeks ago I was on a plane bound for a church retreat, when the guy next to me struck up a conversation with me about what I do for living.

    Immediately he wanted to tell me about his own walk of faith. He had been raised in India as a Hindu and his family moved to England when he was a small boy. He had lost the religion of his childhood and expressed to me that he was now “very into” Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now.

    “It is interesting,” he went on to explain to me, “how people are…

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    Lines of Discord and Lines of Love

    Lines of Discord and Lines of Love

    This weekend my newsfeed was either full of photos of women marching or long rants criticizing the women who marched. Divisiveness it seems, is the rule for the day. Even when we choose not to participate in something we must explain to everyone who did why they are clearly wrong. Jesus must be really proud of us.

    Of course, the marches drew their own kind of lines in the sand. I was disheartened to learn that women who held pro-life beliefs were not as welcomed to join as those who are pro-choice. Even Gloria Steinem got in on the action, making…

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    2016 Was Not the Worst Year Ever

    2016 Was Not the Worst Year Ever

    Across my newsfeed has rung the proclamation that 2016 was “The Worst Year Ever.” I get it. David Bowie died. Prince went on to his great reward. Half the country voted for someone that people are comparing to Hitler/a cartoon character/a Cheeto. I wish I could buy into the extreme opinion. I love to proclaim things as being the worst. Unfortunately, 2016 ain’t it.

    Let’s pause, for just a moment, and remember our history. Now, I’m not even asking us to look at global history (Holocaust) or ancient history (I see you, Crusades). The fact of the matter is that the…

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    Reckoning With the Advent Police

    Reckoning With the Advent Police

    I have long held off on writing an anathema against the Advent Police. Mostly because I know and love so many of them. I’ve kept silent about these well-meaning liturgical lawyers because I love the season of Christmas just as much as the next seminary nerd devout Christian. I love the anticipation, the colors, the music, and the theology.

    Also, (and I know the liturgical lawyers might not readily cop to this feeling), Advent is wonderful because it is that rare time of year when we get to feel superior to all of those Christians/people who don’t know what Advent is. They…

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    What You Should Say to Your Children: Shield the Joyous

    What You Should Say to Your Children: Shield the Joyous

    Nearly every news source in our lives right now is highlighting the question, “What do we tell our children?”

    The morning shows have brought in psychologists. Photos have been posted of disappointed little girls crying. People are trying to simplify concepts like systemic racism and economic insecurity so that their second graders can “understand.” Good luck with that.

    My advice is to tell them as little as possible.

    It is easy to overexplain life to children. My favorite example is when a 3-year-old asks where babies come from, and the well-meaning parents launch into awkward detail about human genitalia. When they’ve finished their…

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