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    Holy Week

    The days have unspooled quickly in this early part of springtime. My interior life has been not in turmoil but in flux, an almost palpable ebb and flow, and through all my misgivings and doubts and ragings and grim, silent musings, I have felt like some sort of antenna, unmoored but still grounded, with invisible signals popping and whizzing around me during my hours. A good friend, who roves across much of the same rocky spiritual landscape I do, recently mentioned in passing how he just might be holding onto a hope that he will one day believe again. That sentiment sang in me like a tuning fork when a…

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    Who Can Say?

    A hundred and forty-six years ago today, the Indian warrior Crazy Horse fought his last battle before being taken by the U.S. Army. He would be stabbed and killed by a guard while in captivity some time later. I respect a man who ferociously fought those whom he believed had stolen his land and heritage. He fought. Isn’t that shocking to your modern eyes? Oh, we shouldn’t resist evil. We shouldn’t fight. We should meekly submit to all authority. We wouldn’t want to get in trouble, would we? When I was a boy, a common cliche’ about Indians was that they believed heaven was a “happy hunting ground.” Well, I…

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    Law-Word

    Back in my Argumentative Protestant Days, I became fascinated with a sect of the Presbyterian/Reformed world who were known as theonomists (from the Latin for “God’s law”) or Christian Reconstructionists. Briefly, these fellows advanced the idea that society could be reconstructed using the principles found in biblical law. The most prominent of these men was a very interesting character named Rousas Rushdoony, who liked to use a very handy phrase, “law-word.” He was quite influential in the 1990s, but after his death, the organization which was his life’s work seemed to fall apart, as movements headed by an irreplaceable leader tend to do. I attended a conference where Rushdoony was…

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    Patience And Mercy

    Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. – William Shakespeare Coriolanus, Act II, Scene 1 It was nearing the noon hour when one of my coworkers — we’ll call her Alice — asked me if I wanted to see her dogs. “Bub’s outside with them. He came to pick me up and brought them along.,” she said. I’ve seen photos and heard many lively tales of Alice’s dogs but have never met them in the flesh, so I quickly said, “Sure!” and followed her out the back entrance to the parking lot. Walking behind her, I was thinking of her boyfriend, Bub. Alice is several years younger than me and…

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