Roots: A Communal Journal

Christ appears, even in locked rooms. Abandoned or in bands in spare rooms or in bright we hide, woozy and downcast— and Christ is present wedding our future to his past. Christ appears, just in locked rooms. Host as guest he arrives for the missing, the not-yet-present the downcast, the cast aside— Christ appears just in locked rooms to unlock them from inside. Christ disappears, becomes for us the unlocked room. But never absent in his absence present not as body but as breath keeping those within, anxious for those without— Christ becomes our unlocked room making space for us to doubt. Christ remains; provides all the room we need. So doors, swing open—wide and wide! And friends, uncork only the best wines! Everyone, everyone’s invited, near and far— Come, Jesus will greet you and bend to kiss your shining scars.

Tonight I am imagining the wilderness as dusk in the desert, while the sun shimmies its way down to the horizon, and all the living things slink away into the shade. The heat was almost unbearable today. Miles of sand in front of me, miles behind me. The sand, infinite. The effort of every step, quickly erased and replaced by teeming grains of the next. Yet sometimes I would close my eyes and for a moment, allow the sun to embrace me. In those moments, I could hear nothing but my heart steel-drumming in my chest, taste nothing but salt and air, and feel nothing but the beads of sweat poised on my skin's surface, ready to freefall straight into the sandy nothingness. For a moment, it was peaceful. But now, as the sun sets, the wilderness feels wilder than ever. The animals have gone home, and even the sky has told me, until next time , and there's still all that sand for miles and miles. The mountains looked interesting at one point, but now they are colossal, hulking things, wh...

* These songs echo throughout our home all year, but especially during this season. -- Josh Garrels |  O Day of Peace  &  Come to Him O day of peace that dimly shines through all our hopes, and prayers, and dreams Guide us to justice, truth, and love Delivered from our selfish schemes May the swords of hate fall from our hands Our hearts from envy find release Till by God's grace our warring world shall see Christ's promised reign of peace Then shall the wolf dwell with the lamb Nor shall the fierce devour the small As beats and cattle calmly graze a little child Shall lead them all Then enemies shall learn to love All creatures find their true according The hope of peace shall be fulfilled For all the earth shall know the Lord Come to Him with all of your heart Come and lay your burdens down For peace he came to give and joy shall be the crown And joy shall be the crown

Review:  Stanley Hauerwas The Character of Virtue: Letters to a Godson Eerdmans Publishing Co. (2018) ________________ Note: I plan to publish a monthly book review here on Roots. Each review will focus on a book I'm reading as a part of my devotions and studies. My hope is that these reviews will weave their way into conversations already happening here, spark some new ones, and maybe even point someone to a quality read.   -- On September 17, 2001, TIME magazine named Stanley Hauerwas "America's Best Theologian" . The irony of the award was likely lost to most. Hauerwas had spent his career calling the church away from the center of national attention and back to the margins. And in the shadow of 9/11, Hauerwas' lively and outspoken pacifism coupled awkwardly with the American thirst for vengeance.  Perhaps TIME hoped to highlight Americana ideals and virtues, but even then, the virtues Hauerwas championed had very little to do with America and e...

I wished the words of prayer would come Full and resounding Bursting with the confetti Of a faith of celebration A triumphant declaration A reverent adoration Something Anything But tonight, Despite the stuttering syllables Tip-toeing on my tongue All that emerged Was the smallest mumble— “ Yes . Please God, Yes .”

This has been a season of doubt. I recognize the title of this post and the first sentence alone has probably caused some of you to wonder if I’ve gone down the wayward path, or gone off the deep end, or whether I still identify as a Christian. My answer is yes, to all of the above. The last couple of months have been scary, and I haven’t been sure who I can talk to about it. I’ve felt a deep loss and yearning for my former, (slightly) less curious churchgoing self, who took Scripture for granted, who jumped headfirst into most of Sunday School and church with a widely-accepted joyful, but vulnerable posture that communicated “I have it together — but only in the sense that I am deeply aware of my brokenness.” I miss that girl. I miss all the questions she didn’t think to ask. I don’t know how to explain what happened. I started the year with this deep thirst to know God and to know Christianity — I wanted to hear the history of the church; I wanted to know when and where and w...