In 1595, the English Jesuit Robert Southwell wrote “The Burning Babe,” a startling, unsettling poem about the incarnation—which means, given Southwell’s rich theological imagination and deep Catholic piety, that it is also a poem about suffering and salvation. And about the human predilection to resist divine love.
Three hundred seventy-one years later, Denise Levertov penned “Advent 1966.″
This week, Fox News anchor Megyn Kelly, in a segment about the race of Santa Claus, reported a bomb shell. No, it wasn’t that this Christmas, in support of Obama’s socialist policies, not just Rudolph’s nose but his entire face will be painted red.
I’ve written elsewhere about Springhouse Ministry, a church building shared by three congregations of different denominations in south Minneapolis. Here is a story about three congregations of different faiths that are now sharing space on Long Island.
Nelson Mandela has died, and most of the TV stations have programs paying tribute to him. Over and over again journalists are referring to him as an “icon.” An “icon” of what? It still sounds vaguely blasphemous.
He has repeatedly told journalists (and the world) that he is not a saint, and that he rejects the depiction of him as any kind of saint. So if he is not a saint and not the icon of a saint, what is he?
I’ve had a chance to read the pope’s apostolic exhortation Gaudium Evangelii, and I’ve also been following much of the media and blogoverse response. Much of that has focused on his statements about capitalism or his affirmation of traditional church teaching on the ordination of women, abortion, etc.