COMMUNITY

Essays on Community

The church has been a source of both belonging and bewilderment. These essays circle the question of what Christian community actually looks like — honest enough to admit skipping church, theological enough to ask why the Reformation produced so much fragmentation, personal enough to write about the stunned silence after you turn off a Netflix show and look at your daughter.

  1. John the Baptist and John Steinbeck on Integrity

    To our capitalist ear, this sounds out of tune. But it's at home in the Kingdom of God.

  2. On the Church as Cosmic Immune System

    As agents of God, the redeemed people of the covenant are called to resist evil, promote good, and participate in the preservation and healing of a decaying world.

  3. The Reformation, Individualism, and the Fractured Church

    I'm not sure he was right.

  4. Right Doctrine and the Wrong Spirit

    I love to be correct, and when I feel I have understood something thoroughly, I can occasionally become belligerent in argumentation.

  5. Skipping Church

    Maybe we are gods, but our kingdom is much smaller than His. We live in a world we think we fully control, but one emptied of meaning.

  6. When Netflix Ambushes Your Family Evening

    We sat in silence a bit after I turned off the TV. I don't recall saying anything. Things can't be undone. Eventually, the evening continued as if nothing had happened. But something had.

  7. Trust at 4AM

    I want to trust. I don't want to worry. I wish I would know, deep down, that my needs and the needs of my loved ones would always be met. And I want this for everyone that shares this planet with me. Why can't I have what I want?

  8. Why Buy a Car to Work a Job?

    My daughter asked, "Why do I have to buy a car to get a job I will have to work to keep the car?" Beneath her question was a deeper one: What's the point of all the commotion that fills our days?

  9. When Your Friend Goes Under the Knife

    As the surgeon works on Rick, my heart beats, carrying nutrients and oxygen to my cells, each one unearned, uncontrolled, winding down toward inevitable silence.