vol. 8, num. 4 :: 2009.02.13 — 2009.02.27
Don’t fall in love in a time of war. Don’t fall in love with someone of the same gender or a different race or another generation. Don’t love your kids too much. We internalize so many messages about love—romantic, platonic or otherwise—and yet it breaks through in astonishing ways, whether we invite it in or not.
An analysis of pop culture artifacts to expose myths about true love.
Creative jock or an athletic artist? A reflection on a time of making decisions about love.
On discovering that perfectly imperfect someone.
Your opportunity to contribute thoughts about empire and subversion.
A Louisiana native provides a closer look at Mardi Gras, a traditional time of celebration before Lent.
A review of the new book Fasting by Scot McKnight.
A child's approach to language can remind us to leave our pride behind when we seek the kingdom.
What the journey to the Promised Land teaches us about God and memory.
How preserving heterosexual privilege in the name of Christ defies the Gospel.
Watching romantic comedies can spoil your love life, a study by a university in Edinburgh has claimed.
A bird, a boy and an impossible pause in an unconventional “summer fling” essay by Daniel Silliman.
Four stories about attempts at making matches…of various sorts.
A response to the charges of relativism that get lobbed across philosophical dividing lines.
My own experience has shown me that it is possible to live in and attentively study the same small place decade after decade, and find that it ceaselessly evades and exceeds comprehension. There is nothing that it can be reduced to, because “it” is always, and not predictably, changing. It is never the same two days running, and the better one pays attention the more aware one becomes of these differences. Living and working in the place day by day, one is continuously revising one’s knowledge of it, continuously being surprised by it and in error about it. And even if the place stayed the same, one would be getting older and growing in memory and experience, and would need for that reason alone to work from revision to revision. One knows one’s place, that is to say, only within limits, and the limits are in one’s mind, not in the place. This is a description of life in time in the world. A place, apart form our now always possible destruction of it, is inexhaustible. It cannot be altogether known, seen, understood, or appreciated.
Life is a Miracle
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