Photography by Manuel Libres Librodo Jr.
We like miracles because they are now,
Not because they are from God.
We use God’s love because it serves us well,
Forgetting that without it, we would be dead.
We watch our loved ones sleep
And pray to God they do his will
And then grow afraid of his will.
There lacks congruence in what we Read More
Photography by Peter Lippmann
Reading Diana Butler Bass’ Christianity After Religion, I am confused why people are so interested in the question of ‘Spiritual’ vs. ‘Religious’. Anyone with at least half an open eye can see that God comes to meet people in myriad ways, each one beautiful even if obscured by partial blindness. Why mask the uniqueness and the miracle of each by classifying it into one or the other category? To be concerned with this debate is to squander the fruit of the spirit and put the human realm above or before God’s. Read More
Colorado River, Grand Canyon, November 2009
I sought the valley of Ritu, where prayers are written on the mountainsides and adorn the bridges in colorful tatters; I sought the coffee fields of Manizales and the religion of a violent city; I sought the deepest canyon where the walls were made of your ten thousand faces. Read More
Full circle—the world really is changing. I know because I’ve been there and remember how it felt just before the ‘big bang,’ the orgasm, the branching into the true unknown. Read More
Painting by Julie Jilek
‘Twas your wrath, O Lord, your fiery rebuke
So I heard your voice and my net I forsook
When the dust settled, you spoke your verdict: Read More
I drew a rose
took off my clothes
swam in a creek
went from wild to meek
and down in a cave
the dark taught me to behave
as holy chastisement
with subtle advertisement
and lost my imagination
in the wilderness of expectation
I thought I knew love
though wasn’t looking above Read More
Photo: Joan Fontcuberta
The mind fragile; he crosses an ocean and all disintegrates into order.
Into her arms he goes; rip, decision, spill. Freeing the border.
The old line awakens into dance, A New One! The rhythm spins.
The beat of every blue shade. Simple: A new wor(l)d begins. Read More
Form. I can now respect it because I am at the point at which the slope of craft unfolds in a rolling wave – a lush Brisanchu knoll of light and deep shades. But before reaching this unexplored scenery, I had to die. And before that I had to know the God within and without were one. And yet, before even that struggle wrought by youthful temerity, desperate groping and inchoate spirituality in the seven-year crepuscular dome, all culminating in one terrifying moment in Hengyang; I had to love and trust a God I couldn’t even feel, but for the myriad wonders of the world, believed in. Read More
Deliverance. I was at a loss about what to write since it feels that these days the womb baby takes up all the space and pushes out anything he/she deems superfluous. But fortunately God squeezed in one word for us to digest like our trusty folic acid. Apt for us both, as my post from Pentecost Sunday, A Conversion, describes the pivotal hour of life in this body in which I was delivered from evil; and the baby will be, any day now, delivered into this world. Read More
Dark day in Hengyang, small city in the middle of China. Five million small. Mao Zedong from a nearby city. The dishwater sky blending right into the slate-gray outline of the industrial city. Dismal to view from the little metal balcony, and even more disgusting to go forth into the leaden din. Last time I was in the country I swore I’d never teach English and least of all to middle-schoolers. But that’s what I was doing in this city where I saw a homeless man masturbate in front of an elementary school. Right outside the gate through which passed hundreds of pigtails and oversized backpacks on tiny bodies. Read More