“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
Hey friends – the blog’s been on vacation while I wrapped up the school year in Ontario and transported myself and my belongings back westward towards sunny Colorado. While the blog was backpacking in Norway and living the high life in Copenhagen (note of course that the blog left me back on this side of
No, I won’t be subjecting you to my poetry. Relax. This poem, by Lindsey Paris-Lopez (which I have reposted here in its entirety, but please visit the original site here), eloquently describes the Christ of refugees, bombing victims, and war orphans sitting at the table for the Last Supper. I have a cursory familiarity with
This was the view outside my favourite coffee shop in Buffalo NY this evening: This guy. He was hustling HARD. For almost three hours, I watched him patrol a 100 metre long strip of sidewalk in front of my window. He approached every single passerby he could catch. He came up to parked cars, like
“When evening comes, you say, ‘It will be fair weather, for the sky is red,’ and in the morning, ‘Today it will be stormy, for the sky is red and overcast.’ You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but you cannot interpret the signs of the times.” Matthew 16:2-3, Jesus to the
This is the first year in quite some time that I have actively observed and participated in Lent. I have a daily email (which arrives overnight) that provides me with my morning meditation. Recently, one of those emails directed me to the 3-minute retreats hosted by Loyola Press (which, if you’re not familiar, is a