It’s painful – absolutely. Grief can sometimes feel like death, but it is also a sign that you’re alive. When your God dies, grief is your bodies way of telling you this was an important relationship, take some time to learn from it and to allow what it meant to you to settle in somewhere deep. Inside, your mind is already doing the work of reorganizing your attachments, keeping the things that make sense, and making room for brand new ideas.
“…those who are open to the wonder will not miss it.” Abraham Joshua Heschel For some of us, the ideas about God that we held onto for many years no longer make sense. Others may never have had any ideas about who or what God is. Some are exploring God for the first time. Maybe … Continue reading Where We Start
The way that I view God has changed. Dramatically. It used to be that when I would think about God, I would picture an old man in the sky. This worked out well. I grew up in a small town where I knew some old men. They were mostly friendly, worked hard, and gave me … Continue reading God Does Not Have a Penis
I wish the church would just go to hell. Into the deepest depths of hell, in fact. Not just the surface level, but down into the white hot flames, the most painful, excruciating places. Where the suffering is intense. Where people come to curse the Lord with as much fervor that could otherwise be mistaken … Continue reading go to hell
The church needs to get back to it’s roots. Back before evangelicals, and reformation, at crusades, and popes, there was the book of Acts. These guys knew what “church” was all about. They invented it. They ate together. They hung out. They sang. They talked about God as if it was OK not to know … Continue reading bar
I see the young girl huddled on the brothel floor I see the man with a passion come in kicking down the door This lyric is from a Sara Groves song – When the Saints. Every time I hear it, it blows my heart to smithereens, and without fail, I’ll get something in my eye. Without … Continue reading passion
‘ve been religious at various points in my life in the truest sense of the word, but never that religious. In small-town Newfoundland, Lent was always perceived as a Catholic tradition and as a good protestant boy, I protested it by simply ignoring it. It’s never been something that I’ve understood well if at all from either an historical or a practical perspective.
I can’t say that I’ve been wrestling with prayer – that would be an overstatement. Rather, prayer has always been perplexing to me and continues to be one of my biggest issues and questions. Lately, as others around me have been wrestling with prayer, I’ve been processing through some of the same questions and concerns.