Link Love: One Tiny Bit at a Time
In a conversation with someone yesterday, I heard the phrase, “The scandal of denominationalism,” and I felt a tightness release within me. I find it a scandal too, albeit it one that’s been going on for generations and only proves to keep growing worse. I don’t know where my own discomfort with its ramifications will lead, but for the present, I was comforted to not feel so alone. This is the benefit of saying the radical thing aloud, I think. I am not prone to saying radical things aloud, though I think about them almost always. Echoes of idealism and disappointment still ring about the halls of my heart, so I’m much too tender to ruffle feathers right now. Though I just did, didn’t I. Oh well.
I realized last week, while reading David French’s new release, that it’s the first book I’ve read since April. And with book reading, so went most other reading (Houses don’t renovate themselves, see?). But this week I’ve been keeping tabs open on my browser and it’s gotten to the point where share I must or risk the frustration of not being able to find the new tab I opened. This is the point at which I write a Link Love post. So, lucky you.
Here’s a pristine piece from the inimitable Aarik Danielson over at Fathom Magazine on the poet Franz Wright. I wanted to share this paragraph on Twitter this morning but it was over by 57 characters and I couldn’t cut even one: “Give me another thousand words to devote to Wright’s sins, to the times he brushed against other writers like a cactus—even after God found him. I prefer to spend myself on the warmth that travels up from his poems like a blanket. Tucked up in his words, I might deal with myself as I am—anxious, jealous, cowardly and infinitely loved.”
Speaking of beauty, I’ve had this one open from Sara Groves the past few weeks. She writes about noticing and naming beauty, a skill we have to hone if we’re going to make it through all this. “ I think something of beauty and human flourishing are one and the same, and the heart of God’s work through Jesus is reconciliation and human flourishing. It is so easy to let anger, self-righteousness and even violence lead, but beauty takes time, thought, patience – something supernatural – a transformed heart.”
Nate and I have been visiting a local church the past few weeks in a very socially distanced service, complete with masked attendees and no singing. That might make some of you judge us (either for attending at all or for socially distancing, wearing masks, and not singing at church (gasp!)), and that’s okay, we’re at peace with our decision. Here’s a poignant piece from Noah Van Niel about gathering in person while still practicing care for the other. “To be sure, God does not need people to gather in order for God to be active and present in our lives. But God is not the church. The church is other people. That is the essence of the incarnational reality we proclaim: that God was made flesh, and that the work of the Holy Spirit that dwells in each of us is activated and multiplied exponentially when we gather together. “
Along the lines of politicization and church, here’s a piece from Tish Harrison Warren on how the early church saw itself as intrinsically political. I fight an almost constant urge within myself to check my politics at the door of communion with the saints, but this reminded to stay committed to engaging: “Those early Christians were cultural misfits: radically pro-life, sexually chaste, committed to the poor and marginalized, and devoted to racial and ethnic justice and reconciliation. We are called to the same. These convictions don’t place us neatly in one political party.”
Am I sharing too much?
Here’s a lighter one on a heavier subject from Tony Woodlief. This is How You Will Heal the Wound. “So this is what you can do. This is what we need from you. This is how you’re going to help heal this wound that’s crisscrossing the body of us.”
If you know the Wilberts, you know Eugene Peterson is our teacher, our guide for the journey, and a person we seek to emulate. For a long while now, Winn Collier has been working on the authorized biography of Peterson called A Burning in my Bones. It is now available for preorder and I mean this with all my heart, preorder this book. Not only because yada yada yada preorders help authors blah blah blah, but because this will be a biography worth savoring but also worth anticipating. I love preordering books because it’s a little more like Christmas when they come. The wait being worth it and all that.
I have a few more tabs open still, but I think this is probably sufficient for now. I don’t want to overwhelm you with opened tabs and I really do want you to read these pieces. There’s goodness in them, all of them and each of them. And we need goodness these days. I need goodness. I need to hunt for it, taste it, ruminate on it, and then share it. If you like even just one of these pieces, do me a favor and share it with someone else. I mean, it actually isn’t a favor for me at all, just for you and for the person with whom you share it. This is how beauty will save the world, one tiny bit at a time.
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Here’s a photo of Harper Nelle because you folks seem to like a gander at her every once in a while. And you didn’t ask, but I’ll tell you anyway, yes, she’s adjusting to the northeast just fine. She’s an Irish breed after all. She’s a bit fastidious about cleanliness so no mud rolling quite yet but Mud is a whole season up here so don’t hold me to it. Until then, I let her sleep on our bed like the spoiled pup she is:
