A couple months ago, Scot McKnight published an article on his blog site entitled, “The Soul of Evangelicalism: What Will Become of Us?” It, and the comments on the original article that followed (including a brief, but enlightening, exchange between McKnight and Rachel Held Evans), has been a source of contemplation and, yes, internal dissonance,
הִנֵּה מַה־טֹּוב וּמַה־נָּעִים שֶׁבֶת אַחִים גַּם־יָֽחַד׃ “NOTE THIS: How good and how pleasing it is, for brothers to dwell together in unity…” Ps 133:1 Well, it’s been a week. I hate talking about or writing about politics. I principally intend to write about religion, theology, and Christianity – which is already one of those immediately
“So avoid using the word ‘very’, because it’s lazy. A man is not ‘very tired’ – he is exhausted! Don’t use ‘very sad’ – use morose!” (Robin Williams as Mr. Keating, Dead Poets Society) I know very little of the history of discourse. This “history” would be, in my mind, the study of how ideas
Yesterday on Scot McKnight’s blog over at Patheos, an essay by Rebecca Kotz (click for the original article) was hosted which extols the virtues of a “radical Christian feminism”. I posted a response to Ms. Kotz’s article at Scot’s site, and have also included it below. I’d be interested in hearing your feedback. Though I
September 10, 2001. You might have seen me, on the south side of Fort Collins or in Windsor, stocking your favourite 7up product on the shelves of the neighbourhood King Soopers or Safeway. Ordering in thousands of dollars worth of soda and seltzer water, stopping only long enough to punch the orders into my phone
“May you live in interesting times.” I was disappointed to learn that this quote, which pretends to be a “blessing” but is more meant as a subversive and particularly dark curse, does not have a mystical and ancient origin amongst Chinese lore as is so often attributed. Even so, the quote grabs us, doesn’t it?
“Life for me has become a bitter drink, and yet it must be taken in drops, slowly, counting…I examine myself; when I am tired of that, I smoke a cigar for diversion and think: God knows what our Lord actually intended with me or what he wants to make of me.” Søren Kierkegaard, Either/Or, 1843.
Jesus feels at home with refugees in rafts. He travels with you in the dead of night, smuggled across borders, on guard for hours and days upon end because you’re surrounded by shady characters who will just as soon slit your throat as help you. He feels the stinging salt water splash into his eyes,
Maybe you’ve said this today: “I’m getting so tired of people saying ‘Pray for Dallas.’ ” Pray for Syria. Pray for Paris. Pray for reconciliation between the police and African-American communities. Pray for… Another atrocity, in another city. Something else to grieve over, to make us sick. To make us doubt that hope makes any
Below, I’ve posted, unedited and with permission, a friend’s recollection of her brief encounter with Prince. I had been waiting for a good moment to post this one, but given that the method of his passing is in the news today I could hardly think of a better opportunity. I’ve added a couple brief thoughts