Reconciliation requires relocation. To see the effects of our food choices, we have to get close to the land.
When I was ten, baseball became the organizing principle of my life. The game taught me that success is rare and precious.
Eliminating food deserts isn’t enough. The nation’s diet problem calls for sustained community attention--and better federal policy.
In the fellowship hall, theology becomes incarnational and takes on all the fleshly concerns brought to church that day.
While Christian scholars have long questioned body-soul dualism, it remains common in church circles. This may finally be changing.
I worship in a congregation whose members sometimes hesitate before responding to scripture readings with “Thanks be to God!” On one Sunday, after hearing Jesus’ parable of the sheep and the goats and the strong words of warning at the end of that parable, they were so restrained that the liturgist looked up from his Bible and remarked, “You’re not so sure about that, are you?”
Quinton Dixie and Peter Eisenstadt focus on the first half of Thurman’s life, finding there not only the deep and complex roots of his mature works, but also a far-reaching influence on historical events and actors.
Julia Scheeres’s unsettling book reminds us that Peoples Temple could have appealed to anyone concerned about racism, sexism and poverty.
Terry Tempest Williams is a writer of stunning power. She is also a writer who spends pages mistaking journal entries for literature.
In Last Child in the Woods, Richard Louv sounded an alarm over the loss of outdoor experiences for children. Not only children, however, need to be outdoors.
Lee Hirsch’s documentary Bully rings false from beginning to end. The film wants to sound alarm bells about the prevalence of bullying in public schools, which is certainly a very real problem. But like the recently completed trilogy of TV documentaries about the child murders at Robin Hood Hills and the young men who were evidently scapegoated for the crime, the movie has a tawdry, voyeuristic quality that keeps distracting you from its alleged agenda.
Movies about education are seldom convincing; their depiction of what goes on in the classroom hardly ever tallies with our own experiences. So the sweet and poignant Quebecois film Monsieur Lazhar is a rare pleasure.
On her third album, Shannon Stephens reins in her chamber-folk experimentalism in favor of a bluesy little band that takes her songs to unexpected places. Her sound remains relatively subdued, yet it grooves and pops and even swaggers.
M. Ward’s solo albums reveal that he surpasses his more-famous collaborators (Conor Oberst, Zooey Deschanel) on all fronts. His sound has a sepia-toned timelessness; it’s both inventive and a whole bunch of kinds of old-fashioned.
Ruthie Foster has a powerhouse of a blues/gospel voice, which she never allows to overpower a song. If you’re not sold already, Foster made her newest album in New Orleans with the Blind Boys of Alabama and a cast of hotshot players. It wouldn’t have killed them to restrain the Hammond organ player once in a while, but that’s being picky: the project brings a truckload of soul and grit.