I sang in church this morning. One of the folks I have met since moving to Guilford is a guy named Geoff and he and I sang “The Touch of the Master’s Hand” in worship. Most people know the song because of Wayne Watson, but I had the privilege of learning it while I...
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here in america we yell at each other as though anger were a pre-existing condition, and diatribe an anagram of democracy; but screaming doesn’t make it so: louder and truer are not synonyms— the same goes for rich and smart. the word becomes flesh the light shines in the darkness and the shouting cannot...
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I started a new Wendell Berry essay this morning, knowing I didn’t really have the energy to read the whole thing, and he still got me with his opening paragraphs: A sentence of my own, written thirteen years ago, has stayed in my mind. In it, I was speaking of the connection between my...
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Even before I read any of the reports of election-related happenings around the country, I felt depressed, so I am choosing to limit my intake as much as I can. Still, I am troubled. I can remember, after past elections that seemed contentious, but now pale by comparison, hearing people say we were blessed...
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I picked up a new traveling companion for this Lenten journey: Wendell Berry’s Standing by Words: Essays. The title essay begins, Two epidemic illnesses of our time—upon both of which virtual industries of cures have been founded—are the disintegration of communities and the disintegration of persons. (14) I added his word to my growing...
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I woke up to a surprise snowfall this morning, and nowhere I had to be immediately, so I sat down for my morning coffee and continuing conversation with Madeleine L’Engle and Marilynne Robinson. Even though their two books were written two decades apart and, as far as I know, independent of one another, I...
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When I wrote yesterday’s post on being right, I had not yet purchased, much less begun to read, Marilynne Robinson’s collection of essays, When I Was a Child I Read Books, but I got to work early and the Yale Bookstore is next door . . . . I sat down this morning and...
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One of the items on my bucket list is to attend a TED (Technology Education Design) Conference. By now, I imagine most of you are acquainted with TED talks and the variety of subjects they cover. I find them inspirational and challenging. TED 2016 begins today. I wish I were there. In the days...
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He did what they told him to do. He would have done anything they told him to do. He hid inside the pronoun we. (The Illusion of Separateness 189) Life is a team sport. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve uttered that sentence I’d have enough to take us all to...
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Perspective I feel small in the face of overwhelming violence: another killing, another killing, another killing . . . it’s as hard to be hopeful as it is to be poetic. How can our kindness afford to be random when the violence is intentional? This can’t be the last word. Peace, Milton
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