The Story of Life: A Beginning

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” (Genesis 1:1)

It’s the most simply elegant opening I can think of for what is any but a simple book. Or rather, anthology of written works of a whole spectrum of genres and complexity levels and audiences and languages and cultures and time periods.

This history is about God and creation. About all people and life and presence. About words and light and life from God, about God, being God.

Light and life and presence. Intertwined motifs that cannot be overlooked. They remain throughout the Bible, and sometimes we hear more of one or more of another, but everything is about these things in one way or another. 

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Night and Day

Death and life, destruction and construction, desolation and consolation. Cycling through these is painful, and existing among them is reality. Enduring them is wearying, and growing from them is necessary for survival.

The last time I was writing consistently was over a year ago, before the stars went dark. It was in the midst of descent into depression. Some say depression and the Dark Night of the Soul are distinct. I’m confident that is true some of the time. I’m confident they overlapped for me.

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In Control in Your Heart

I am with you. Regardless of your opinions, positions, convictions, now is a time with the potential to stretch you to your limit and beyond.

If you’re feeling worn down, I am with you. If you feel judged unfairly or rejected out of hand by friends or family because you see things differently than they do, I am with you.

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A Voice with Many Faces

The following is an allegorical telling of my life’s developing relationship with Scripture. Enjoy. When I was a boy, my friends were more a matter of proximity than affinity. When you’re just starting to grow, other kids are more decoration than companion, but they can be comforting. One day I accompanied my mom to a […]

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Re-Write

When I think of the title of my blog—An Old Song with a New Dance—and what was happening in my life when I chose it, I think of forming a new way of life out of the patchwork of history and culture that has had an influence on who I am and what I care about. I think about Medieval monks and about living in a big house with another family leading to a painful schism. I think about the longing for connection with other people and with God that led to trying something new. I think about the dark night of the soul that followed the dissolution of that community. I think about learning from a new community what serving and community and faithfulness and love look like.

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A Time to Break Down and a Time to Build Up

What does it do to a person to be told that the suffering they experience isn’t real because it isn’t as bad as all these other groups? What does it do to label a person as evil because he has other concerns than the ones we hold dear? What does it do to stifle a person’s needs because we think their resentment is misplaced?

I think it creates Trump supporters.

I think we, the champions of the downtrodden, are in part responsible for people turning to the only person who told them their concerns mattered, that their problems were worth talking about, that they weren’t the bad guys.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Trump himself is a cancer spreading through this country, spouting hate and spreading blame by feeding people’s misguided ideas about who causes the problems we face as a nation. The problem is that he sprinkles in some truth with his lies.

And—this is important—the people who voted for Donald Trump… are not Donald Trump.

They are the marginalized majority.

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