Fasting is easier as a virtue of omission than commission It’s easier to give up meat than to take the meat of the Word It’s easier to lament our sins than to confess them It’s easier to quit wine and whining than to be a blessing   We can save a lot by fasting, including our own souls But it’s much harder to spend ourselves for others I don’t mean alms – giving alms is

In my previous article, I stated there are only two stories (or two worldviews) that are internally consistent enough to be lived. The first is nihilism. The second is Christianity. In today’s article, I describe the second story in the form of a fairytale. Once upon a time, in the very place we now sit, was nothing. There was no ground to stand on, no air to breathe. There was neither light to see nor

We’re designed to worship through windows Through windows we feel like we’re there Like the one we’re worshiping truly knows And sees us bowing through the glare Every window a window to Heaven Every scene is of God above Every vision that we have been given Is all about falling in love   Our windows are rarely transparent Things float on the surface between What we see is always more apparent Than what the things

Why me? I hear her moan; Why this broken mess? Why am I all alone— toiling daily, while he’s free? Why, why, why, God? Why me?   Why me? I look above; Why do you never quit? Why do you love, love, love me? You never flee, You take delight…Why, God? Why me?   Why me? I hear her cry; Why all of my friends? Why doesn’t someone try to love me in all my

Avestan was tired of the desert. Not the most astrologically-minded of the magicians, Avestan had wandered far longer than he had intended—not that any intend to wander to begin with, but once one starts wandering, it is hard to stop. Avestan had begun wandering one day when he tired of looking up all the time, and decided the stars really had nothing to say to him. Everything he needed was on his camel, his back,

In today’s internet and social media culture, opinions are flared behind the impersonal protection of the computer screen, creating the appearance of debate and dialogue where no such reality exists. America’s increasing political polarization exploits and exacerbates this problem, resulting in an environment in which we often cling to our ideological enclaves, though sometimes peering out to have heated exchanges with those with whom we disagree. These sparring matches often serve simply to justify the

Oh sure there’s the baby shower But after that there just the waiting Well, and the nursery decorating And the putting things in order And the bag for the sudden flight And all the fears for the future And all the perhapses of the past And all the pushing pushing push And the breathe I know it hurts When all you need to decorate Is fresh straw and a star window Your hospital births lambs

Do the best things only happen when we pray? If so, from your lips to God’s ear; only you hear me. For every Rachael there’s a Leah For every Lot a wife and daughters For every Shunamite woman a Shunamite woman So we sit in the darkest place at the darkest time Rendering to Caesar our inheritance Marrying and giving in marriage Watching sheep and stars by night And Christ comes when nobody is looking

Remember Lot’s wife? She used to go to the market on the corner And on Tuesdays she played bridge With the girls in her play-date group – If wine glasses are playing cards, anyway Or sometimes they’d have margaritas With a nice thick salt rim Remember Lot’s wife? Three days a week she drove the carpool Took a minivan of kids to school And even, in summers, to the pool Dance classes on odd days

A dying Christmas tree in the living room In the front window so passersby can watch it die Has a pile of disguised boxes beneath it Each with another reminder of my mortality Here is a box that reminds me I stink to high Heaven Here a box so I can drink my troubles away Here a box to keep dung from dungarees There are boxes of distraction Gift cards for my lack of openness

Omaha, Nebraska. That paragon of culture is precisely where I spent a long weekend with friends. Now, I know that many of you will think of steak, cornfields, and farmers when you hear the word Nebraska, but there is quite a lot to that Plains State aside from plains. The highlights of my weekend were all cultural experiences: from the Joslyn Art Museum, a symphony, and a gourmet dinner, to a tea emporium, exploring the

I feel some kind of spirit move me, There’s something I have got to say. Could be complaint or comedy; I’ll blurt it out either way. I’ll make sure the kids don’t hear me, Wait until the prudes go away- Then inspiration strikes me And I ask, Will it pray? Can I take these silly sentences, Can I make them talk to God? Do I think he’d laugh along with me And give me a

I had the Bible down to a science: Six days exactly to create Seven years enough to destroy Three days and nights to recreate The Reed Sea or the Red Sea The Brazen Sea and the Dead Sea The sun stood still up in the sky The waters flowed while crested high Water to wine, crumbs to bread Sight to the blind, life to the dead From age unto apparent age From miracle to explanation

Ladder of Divine Ascent 3.5 In going into exile, beware of the demon of wandering and of sensual desire; because exile gives him his opportunity. I’m a lot like Peter: Firm in my conviction and my denial And weeping bitterly about both. But that’s not the Peter I’m most like. My spirit animal is Peter Rabbit, Hippity-hopping down the bunny trail, Enticed by all the carrot-tops… I blame it on Farmer McGregor. If he hadn’t

Christ in the House of Simon Dieric Bouts the Elder 1440s Oil on wood, 40,5 x 61 cm Staatliche Museen, Berlin She didn’t know she had faith. She didn’t wonder how much she believed. She didn’t come looking for forgiveness. She didn’t think about her sin. She knew there was a man at Simon’s house. She knew this man really, truly loved, was love. She knew what she got and gave with men was not.

Recently, I had the privilege of sitting down with a couple fellow Conciliar Posters for an all-too-brief book club meeting over Google Hangouts. I was a little surprised—and more than a little nervous—about the book the choice; it was a book I wrote. Well, it’s the book I wrote, as currently there is only one. It’s called Genesis of the Dead, and in it I reimagine the early histories told in the Bible as a

All those golden autumn days the sky was full of wings. . . The wings and the golden weather and the tang of frost in the mornings made Laura want to go somewhere. She did not know where. She wanted only to go. “Let’s go West,” she said one night after supper. “Pa, can’t we go West when Uncle Henry does?” . . . “I know, little Half-pint,” said Pa, and his voice was very

Praise God from whom all curses flow Praise him who made the thorns to grow Praise him below infernal host Praise Father Son and Holy Ghost The sword that guards the Garden’s gate The sweat and death that are our fate The pain through which all life goes on For these we thank the Lord in song The night so short, the day all gone Serve to make us cry out, “How long?” Until the

The Ladder of Divine Ascent 3.4 In hastening to solitude and exile, do not wait for world-loving souls, because the thief comes unexpectedly. In trying to save the careless and indolent along with themselves, many perish with them, because in course of time the fire goes out. As soon as the flame is burning within you, run; for you do not know when it will go out and leave you in darkness. Not all of

Lord Lord I say – I can’t say it without your help But it isn’t enough to enter into the kingdom I say it to my own Petrine cock-crowing shame But I have, Lord, Lord, prophesied in your name Jesus They say you were―that you are―a man like I am But the only sin you had you weren’t tempted to Instead you had all the sins for which I long And you had them on