Saturday, May 31, 2014

That magical place they call Rosedale...

The year is 1997. I am four. Rosedale is a magical place. It is the only place I know. My family lives in the huge apartment complex across the plain from the men's dorm—a dorm to be seen from the outside but never entered by oneself—scary men live in there. From our skyscraper-height in the second story apartment, we can look down and see the road (it is at least a mile long) connecting our...

The Audacity of un/Certainty

The road to all good theology starts with uncertainty. Whoa, Josiah, back up there. What did you just say? Sorry. Ok, let’s start from the beginning. We all understand that there are some things we just simply do not know. We hypothesize this because we are constantly in the process of learning new things. The more we learn things that we previously did not know, the more we began to suspect that...

on radicals

I once talked to a person. I’ll call him Bob. A Mennonite, no doubt. Close to my own age. Had grown up in a relatively conservative Anabaptist home, somewhat similar to my own. “Bob” told me about a time he had been given the opportunity to speak to a group of people in a setting he and I were both familiar with. He described with some pleasure how he had used specially chosen words and topics...

the immortal idol? the doubting divinity?

It is not uncommon for a student on a college campus to get the bright idea of posting an “anonymous confession board” somewhere––these days usually through social media––with the grandiose plan of providing an outlet for “the free flow of thoughts, ideas, and feelings.” In reality, most of the posts end up majoring on getting drunk, high, or naked. I speak from experience. Eastern Mennonite...

On Contacts, Watermelons, and Privileges

I wear contacts. This means that every night, before I go to bed, I have to take them out. Which means that I need access to the bathroom, where my contact solution and case are stored. Which means that if someone is currently in said room, I can’t go to bed until they are finished so that I can get in to take out my contacts. Which means that I get angry. Why? Because I have a Right––and that...

Dockers says "wear the pants"

Once upon a time, men wore the pants, and wore them well. Women rarely had to open doors and little old ladies never crossed the street alone. Men took charge because that’s what they did. But somewhere along the way, the world decided it no longer needed men. Disco by disco, latte by foamy non-fat latte, men were stripped of their khakis and left stranded on the road between boyhood and androgyny. But...