Every year, I tell the congregation not to worry about mistakes because there aren’t any; there is only us, telling an old story about love getting born into this aching world.

Sometimes I offer to make a deal with God. “I’ll tell you about my resistance to prayer,” I say, “If you’ll explain the Holocaust.” God declines to comment, and the lawyers make their prepared statements on his behalf. I kind of hate when he does that. I love God best, I confess, when I...

All this talk of saving souls. Souls weren’t made to save, like Sunday clothes that give out at the seams. They’re made for wear; they come with lifetime guarantees. Don’t save your soul. Pour it out like rain on cracked, parched earth. Give your soul away, or pass it like a candle flame. Sing...