Life of Faith
The hope I’ve arrived at
I used to put a positive spin on everything. The effort didn’t serve my children—or my own heart.
A posture of hope
No, everything is not fine. But we can help each other envision a better way.
Small creatures
“There’s a frog in our house!” My daughter and I said the words together, but only one of us was excited.
God cares nothing for our algorithms
Embracing the random can open us up to the agitations of the Holy Spirit.
The roots of Hebrew Roots
A small but growing movement of Christians believes fervently that Torah observance is for everyone.
The Christian lady preacher and the queer Jewish poet
If I could give every new pastor a gift in their first year of preaching, I’d give them a friend like Jessica Jacobs.
A harrowing novel about Christian boarding schools
In Margaret Verble’s Stealing, a Cherokee girl finds what she needs to survive an evil system.
Present together
When I was a chaplain intern working with people with disabilities, there was one man I visited every Sunday right after worship.
The all-knowing cloud and the cloud of unknowing
Clouds evoke the sublime. What about the cloud that stores our data and mediates its flow?
The spirituality of waiting
If God is present in the planting and the harvest, then God is present in the time when nothing seems to be happening.
Cycling my way to peace
Turning the pedals over again and again, I began to feel the fullness of who I am and how I was made.
The wisdom of dreamwork
“I don’t interpret dreams,” says poet and spiritual director Rodger Kamenetz. “I bring them to life.”
Virtuous friendship
Prudence and constancy might not sound like much fun, but they create the load-bearing relationships communities need to flourish.
Can we build our own future?
Elon Musk’s techno-optimism needs something to temper it. Maybe the dimmer outlook of a companion named Hobbes.
Working with conscience
Our repair person refused to try to fix our fridge. He wanted to be able to sleep at night.
A permanent foreigner
Grace Loh Prasad’s memoir shows how the death of parents, for a child of immigrants, represents the vanishing of entire worlds.