Carefully Arranged Words*

I have loved you and
dwelt within your walls. I
have sung praises
in your tongue and read
your recommendations.

We have gone and
witnessed, spent Summers
saving spent sinners,
convincing them into despair
and sorrow, but offering them
salvation through our
conceptual Christ.

I have come to your conferences, and I
have memorized your music. I have learned
your cant and taken your words seriously.
I have lost my youth to your urban ascetic,
rejected The Lost on their terms, that they
may meet me on our own.

But I reject you, now,
and hold no grudge.
You are the sick.
You are the broken.
You are the lost.
You are in need of healing.

I don’t love your conditioned Jesus, and have
faced the consequences. The alienation
from His people
(they are not yours),
the rejection from
roles, the demands
to keep silent.

I reject you…

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In my last post, I hoped that life would happen less.  It didn’t.  Not only did I not get my research done, I fell into a period of deep depression that hindered me from getting work done.  Among other personal problems, much of it has to do with the on-going dark night of the soul, the never-ending wrestling of doubt which I face in the literature I read and the questions I ask about the world around me, intimately tied with the issues I address here on the Reform-Asian.

I’ve made some solid progress in my research project on the Church Fathers, so far with Ignatius of Antioch, Clement of Rome, Clement of Alexandria, Justin Martyr, Barnabas, Irenaeus, Tertullian.  I must have spent at least eight hours today doing that.  Gee, don’t I sound productive?  Except, I should have had this all completed weeks ago.

Procrastination, along with the intimidating challenge of quoting, citing, organizing the digitized .pdf files of the monstrously voluminous volumes of the Ante-Nicene Fathers and the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers series simply deterred me from doing the work that I should have done.  I will find it miraculous to successfully manage my course load, my readings, my obligations for the rest of the semester.

Some things are different.  Everything looks different.  Something with my system is off-kilter, and I’m just trying to recalibrate.  I try not to stress.  Will we care about what we do today in five, ten years?

Take it easy. Life is short. It’s okay if I get a C.  And if that’s too presumptuous for me to assume that I’ll even acquire a grade that high, whatever.  Life moves on, so will I.


Apologies for not updating last week. Life happens, and then you have to stop doing things for a while because life happened the crap out of you.

What have I read recently? I read two essays, one by Paul Ricoeur and the other by Jacques Derrida, the “Father of Deconstruction.” How post-structuralist! Aside from all this, I haven’t done much but feel quite deconstructed myself.

For Easter Break, I’ll stay on campus and actually do some of the work I meant to hash out over Spring Break but never did. But I need to mean it this time. More than half the semester has passed by, and I feel like I’ve slacked off to a considerable degree in the writing workshop. I need to make a heroic effort and finish strong.

At least I wrote a review for Peter Rollins’ Insurrection and posted it on Amazon. But I still need to read Uncle Karl’s The Wonder of the Universe, write more reviews, complete the Gospel for Academia piece for the Tartan newsletter, a campus publication.

Yeah. I hope life happens less next week.