After lying in bed for two hours dreaming that I was sitting my den, I thought I might sit up and dream that I’m back in the bed. In a few short hours, I’ll drive our to the dialysis clinic. Then I’ll go to lunch because you can never go wrong with a right meal. And then, Kelly, Izaak and I will drive over to UT Hospital and check in. We’ll spend the night at UT and then on Wednesday morning, the surgery will begin. I feel like an anxious spaceship as the count down moves closer to blastoff.

Since the surgery was finalized a few weeks ago, I’ve felt a slight anxiety like a child feels before a big vacation. The night before our family packed up the car and headed off for our summer adventure, my sister and I overflowed with jitters. For some reason, on those nights our beds simply couldn’t contain all the jitters and we ended up lying on my parent’s bedroom floor. I say lying because we rarely slept. We simply closed our eyes, rolled around, and looked at the clock every 30 seconds.

This relates to another anxiety I shared with many of my fundamentalist friends. We sometimes feared that the rapture would occur before something really good happened in our lives. So if my family was planning a big trip to Disney World, I might fear that Christ would decide to split the Eastern sky before my big day with Mickey Mouse. Oh the horror that time would end before I got ride Space Mountain.

Of course rapture fears penetrated more than just vacations. On more than one occasion, my folks came to pick me up late from school, and I was certain that Christ had raptured his church, the tribulation was now underway, and I was most definitely “left behind.” With an overactive imagination, I could easily envision multiple terrors unfolding before my very eyes.

The only cure for this unhealthy addiction to terror was and is trust. If I could but simply trust my parents, and the Lord, I could rest that things would work out fine. Trust played a fundamental, unspoken role in so much of my childhood life. I never worried about food (which is good because I like to eat). In fact, I never really thought about how my parents would provide the next meal. My only concern was that the bad taste of the vegetables would not overpower the good taste of the dessert.

I trusted them to provide my every meal because they were trustworthy. Over and over and over and over they provided. They fed me and clothed me and protected me and implicitly taught me that they would unquestionably take care of me. As I reflect on their provision, I think of how the ancient Hebrews understood faith.

For the Hebrews, faith was not an affirmation of some abstract set of ideas. Faith meant to trust in a God who is trustworthy. The weight of trust is on the Lord. Like a sleeping child cradling in the encircling arms of a parent, trust is resting, often unconsciously, in the care of our loving Creator. As they trusted in the trustworthiness of God, they would be changed into an image of that trustworthiness.

In other words, the character of God that makes him absolutely reliable would be stamped into the very fiber of their being. His faithfulness would manifest in their lives, and they would become a faithful, trustworthy people. In spite of their weaknesses, He was still trustworthy.

And even now as I write in the middle of the night, I continue learning the gentle lesson of trust. I continue learning to trust a God who is present but not necessarily visible. He is always and has never not been present. Just as He taught a struggling nation of nomads to trust Him in cloud day and the fire by night, He still teaches His people to trust in His unfailing presence.

On the day I entered the dialysis clinic He was present. On the day I sat at school thinking the rapture had occurred He was present. From the moment of my conception to the day I take my final breath, He was, is and will be present. And all along the way, His Spirit gently, softly teaches me the rest of trust.

We are not all called to the same journey. Some people will scale mountains, some people will build cities and some people may only wash dishes. But each of us is called to rest in His goodness. Each of us has the pleasure of learning to trust in the faithfulness of the Lord.

I’m a slow learner, but I’m learning to delight in His lessons. And even now I lean my head back into the arms of everlasting love.

Izaak Standridge, a young man in our church, has passed the testing and
qualifies to donate a kidney to me. The surgery is currently scheduled for
June 14. Izaak has been a part of my life for about 10 years. He is college
student with a passion for history and political science. When my kidney
first took a downhill turn this spring, Izaak immediately responded by
offering his kidney. This was a big decision and I didn’t want to encourage
him, but let him decide this compeltely on his own.

After discussion with his family, Izaak pursued the donor program and went
through a series of tests to check our compatiblity, his health condition
and his kidney funcitonality. After passing all the tests, the surgeons met
with Izaak this week and scheduled a surgery.

As an act of such sacrifice is hard to fathom, and I can only respond with
heartfelt thanks. Izaak has demonstrated a level of Christian action that
few of us ever embody. He acted in a way that demonstrates the community of
Christ and life poured out on behalf of others. I am grateful and honored by
his offering.

I aprpeciate all the prayers and words of encouragement, you have offered
and now I ask for one more prayer. Please pray for the surgery, for Izaak’s
health before and after the surgery, for my health and that my body will not
reject the kidney but will adapt and that I’d be able to wean off the
medications.

I will continue to update you in the days and months ahead. Praise the Lord!

As one of the tallest boys in class, I was expected to play basketball. So from the fourth through the sixth grade, I dressed, practiced and played in almost every game. In three years of play, I scored one basket. The whole school cheered: it was a glory day.

Of course, the actual accomplishment of one basket in three years could not begin to compare with the vast accomplishments in my mind. For in every game during those three years, I spent most of my time sitting on the bench and imagining that I achieved amazing feats of athletic prowess, bringing the whole school to their feet in admiration. In my dream world, I enjoyed endless accolades for one victory after another.

It’s nice to be glorified.

Whether for beauty or skills or intellect or performance most of us like to be recognized, to be lauded, to be praised. My overactive imagination gravitates toward new ways of winning esteem and glory. In fact, it seems that whatever activity is at hand, I suddenly become the mental hero in the midst.

If I am watching a spy movie, it’s just a matter of minutes before I begin envisioning my own escapades among the notorious enemies. Soon I’ve rescued the captive, captured the enemy and saved the day. A small parade in my honor might be appropriate.

When I felt called to preach, I imagined that I was being commissioned to launch a new reformation on the scale of Martin Luther’s project. Standing before a congregation of the faithful, I envisioned uttering such powerful words that people fell to the ground in tears. Like Taliesin of old, my words would clench the tongue of every person in the room, as conviction spread like wildfire.

Even sitting in the hospital room, I’m pretty good at finding glory. I see myself fading from this life and passing from this world to the next. As doctors and nurses and family and friends gather round the body of this poor dear soul who died so young, I suddenly come back to life. Light streams from my body and everyone trembles in the glory.

We live in a world that lusts for honor and glory. From jobs to church to family to the community, we want recognition. We want someone to say that we are of value and that we matter, that we make a difference. We yearn for a glory that others will recognize and acknowledge.

But the glory of this world is fading. The trophies tarnish, the memories fade, the light dissipates. As the poet reminded us, it is better for the athlete to die young with his glory still in tact than to die old and watch it gradually fade over time. Whether he dies young or old, it will fade. He will be forgotten.

Paul says, But he that glories, let him glory in the Lord (2 Corinthians 10:17). There is so much conflict, so many self-esteem problems, so much discouragement that comes from the longing, the frustrated craving for honor and glory here and now. But glory is due to the Lord alone. Outside the light of God’s glory, I have no lasting glory. It is all temporary illusion.

The truly free person can let go of glory. She can be overlooked. She can be forgotten. All claims to honor and glory and success can be stripped away and she can still rejoice. The human heart is so subtly evil that we can glory in anything. We cry out for revival and if revival comes, we glory in our accomplishment. As we fall before the Lord in humble repentance, we glory in our brokenness. Whether in disaster or in success, we can still find a way to glory in self.

The Lord strips us of all glory except his own. We have no true glory. It is all illusion. Isaiah was a prophet who used his tongue to proclaim the holiness of God, but in the presence of God, he realized he was a man of unclean lips. The very thing he offered as a thing of glory was unacceptable outside of God’s grace.

The only one worthy of glory is the Lord. It is the Lord’s work. It is the Lord’s love. It is the Lord’s victory. We glory in him alone. The mystery is that God’s glory, God’s love, God’s presence completes, sustains and will ultimately meet my deepest needs. Our need for significance, for acceptance, for value comes from His unconditional love.

Success and failure are temporary conditions. What looks like a success today could be disaster tomorrow. And what seems to be failure after failure after failure might simply be the prelude to a great achievement. Our challenge is to be faithful in what we are called to do and then rest, trusting God’s purposes, God’s love and God’s glory alone.

As I learn to rest in God’s glory alone, I can let go. I am free to embrace humiliation along with exaltation. Like Paul, I can say, “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength” (Philippians 4:11-13).

If you think blogging is an important form of free speech, you might
want to help sign a petition for a recently arrested Egyptian blogger.

http://freealaa.blogspot.com/

This is one of the more postive things I’ve read about developments among Islamic moderates. Dr. Ahmed Abaddi, the Director of Islamic Affairs in Morocco, has been in Washington explaining to America’s leaders how Morocco is fighting militant Islam. I know many Christians have used the Koran to suggest that Isalm is not a peaceful religion and that there can be no moderation. But I have to believe we should respect their voices of moderation just as we expect them to respect ours. One could misquote our Bible to paint Judeo-Christianity as a mighty violent religion, and couple that with our less than perfect history, and it would not be difficult to reverse the same arguments we use against Islam and apply them to Christianity.

Yet Christians will be quick to object and say this is not what Christianity is about, and when people act ways ways antithetical to our faith, we do not acknowledge that as Christian. And I agree. I just think we might give the same respect to moderate Islamic voices who say that radical Isalm does not reflect their faith. If we are to live in peace, we must find some places of dialogue and mutual respect.

For the last few weeks, I’ve been ruminating on the following passage:

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. 7 This man came for a witness, to bear witness of the Light, that all through him might believe. 8 He was not that Light, but was sent to bear witness of that Light. (John 1:6-8)

John the Baptist was sent to bear witness of the light. What does it mean to bear witness? In the fundamentalist churches of my youth, bearing witness clearly meant handing out gospel tracts and learning methods to convince people why they need Jesus. Like a faithful soldier, I attended all the witnessing training programs and learned the models for presenting the gospel.

On Saturday mornings, a group of the faithful would hit the streets, knocking on doors and taking “religious surveys” that would never be collated. These were just a front for getting people to talk to us, so that we could then show them why they need Jesus. I learned a variety of techniques and methods of asking questions and even body language that might help draw the potential converts.

By the time I was out of college, all of this seemed a little suspicious to me. Sharing the gospel seemed a bit like selling Kirby vacuum cleaners (which I also attempted). Our whole approach felt like Jesus was simply a product we were trying to convince people that they couldn’t do without.

Me, like many others in my generation, watched far too many mean-spirited people beat up their listeners with the gospel. I couldn’t help but think that these people don’t look anything like the Jesus I see in the gospel.

So many of us began to think that the best way we could bear witness to Jesus was to live like him: to respect people, to be faithful in the little kindnesses of everyday life. For many of us, St Francis of Assisi’s word became our motto: “Witness all the time and when necessary use words.”

Witnessing shifted from proclaiming a truth in words to living a truth through our lifestyle. I still believe this is profoundly important because our faith, if is real, will be embodied in our actions. But there is a danger to this idea as well. And this what has been on my mind lately.

If we reduce witness primarily to a series of non-verbal acts that reveal our life of faith, it might be easy to reduce Christianity to a form of ethics. And that is one step away from suggesting that aren’t all religions really same: they’re about how we treat people, about living right, and so on.

But Christianity is not primarily about ethics it is about a person.

Call me crazy, but I believe Jesus has been challenging and convicting me personally about this idea of bearing witness. I went to sleep last night and dreamed and dreamed and dreamed all night about a strange series of little pictures that would not make sense to others and I could not even fully replicate here. But the dreams awoke me, and I knew a person was speaking to me (Jesus) and I responded by getting up from bed and writing. So here are a few thoughts on being a witness to a person, the person of Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ, the Son of God.

Paul says that if Jesus really did not rise from the dead, we are of all men most miserable. In Christianity, we’re making the absurd claim to know a person intimately who lived over 2000 thousand years ago. The focal point of Christianity is not ethics, theology, or rituals. It is a person. We claim that Jesus of Nazareth, the man who lived at a particular place and time, was crucified at a particular place and time, and then overcame death and resurrected at a particular point in time. The resurrection was a vindication of Jesus’ claim to be more than just a man but to actually be God.

Jesus made claims about relationship within God (between himself, the Father and the Spirit), which altered the world’s understanding of God and over time radically reinterpreted the meaning of person for humans as well (that’s another essay).

We actually believe that the man Jesus is actually God and is actually alive right now and is actually capable of speaking to us and entering into relationship with us. We claim that his act in the cross directly addressed the problem of sin and evil in this world and made a way for humans to enter into a relationship with God that had never been possible.

If in our witness we fail to ever mention Jesus, there is something wrong. The woman at the well did not run back to the village and then act out a lifestyle that attracted people to follow her back to the well. She used words. She said “Come and see!”

The problem is that we live in a world that distrusts words and experiences. We fear using words for personal embarrassment or because we don’t want to force ourselves on other people.

But if I go with my wife to a party of my peers, she would appreciate if I introduce her. If I ignore her all evening and hope people will know how important she is by my actions, it is unlikely anyone will walk away knowing how I feel about her. On the other hand, if I talk about her, tell stories about her, show her picture, and reveal her to others then they will begin to meet her long before she is physically present. This is the same with Jesus.

The hang up of course is physical presence. We are used to meeting persons with physical bodies. So to build relationship with a person is not limited by their physical body seems hard to understand. While Jesus has a body, his primary means of entering into relationship now is not through that body but through his Spirit. This seems too far out for some people.

But in truth we meet and interact with many people beyond their physical body: letter writing for example. When a person writes a letter, they are present somehow in the words of their letter. And reading their letter (especially when it is written to us) is like being in their presence. I’ve read books by many authors who’ve been dead for many years, yet I feel as if I know them in their words.

Today we have telephones and emails. We can talk, tell stories, share our lives with people and never actually physically meet them. And yet, it feels as if we know them. And in some ways, we may know them better than the people we know physically. I’ve personally built some friendships online (with people I have never physically met) where I have come to know people on a deeply intimate level. (Of course one might argue, how do you know those people aren’t lying? And my response is trust. Just as I trust the person who is physically present is not lying as well.)

Just as letter writing, emails and telephones use words to convey the presence of persons and bring us into relationship, Jesus is present to us in the reading of his words: primarily the words of the Bible. Instead of reading it like some ancient musty text, we listen for Jesus the person speaking to us. This is not to deny the physical, concrete situations that led up to the writing of each Biblical text, but it is to suggest that the spirit of God inspires this same text and this same spirit reveals Jesus and has chosen to reveal Jesus in and through the text.

When I speak words, I impact you in ways that go far beyond simply acting. Acting, living, modeling may in fact give me a right to speak to you, but non-verbal is incapable of communicating specifics. If I want to meet someone, at some point, I am going to use words. Words pass through the outer world and somehow pierce our inner world in a profound and dramatic way. Words can incite anger. Words can bring tears. Words can surround us with good feelings. Words can bring hope. Words can clarify our feelings.

Words are fundamental to our expression as humans. The word passes through the ear to the mind and ultimately to the heart. Christians make the claim that Jesus does the exact same thing through his Spirit. He uses words, inspired words. The words in the Bible have inspired countless generations and touched people in their hearts with the person of Jesus. Before we discount this as some over emotional fluke, we must come to terms with those who have claimed such an experience: many hardcore rationalists like Thomas Aquinas and CS Lewis.

Some of the greatest thinkers in history have made such a claim. They claimed to meet and form relationship with the person of Jesus. The rich and poor, the intellectual and the simple minded, the educated and the illiterate—all make claims to know Jesus and experience his presence through prayer, reading the Bible, meditation, preaching, fellowship, dreaming, and even journaling.

We won’t meet him in quite the same way the woman at the well did, but the impact is just the same. And if he has not impacted us to the core of our being, then the question is have we truly met him? If he seems completely intangible and more like a concept than a person, then we should ask the Holy Spirit to make him known to us, to speak to us, to open our hearts to his presence. And we should set aside time to listen.

I fear we rarely acknowledge him, when he is speaking. We reduce our faith to ideas or feelings or actions, but his Spirit centers our faith on a person who entered history and yet lives now and is present to us.

Christianity can easily be equated with great ideas, beautiful rituals, personal improvement, ecstatic experiences, and while all these can be present, the heart and soul of it is the person of Jesus. We may perfect our ability to defend the faith through a variety of philosophical arguments, we may become exemplars on service to the poor and needy, we may have visions and see angels and have all manner of dramatic experiences, but we could have all these things and still never meet the person of Jesus.

And yet this is the great claim of Christianity. We believe he speaks to us personally. We believe he is present in the midst of his church. We believe he is transforming us through his presence. May the Spirit of God have mercy on us and open our eyes and hearts to Jesus, the Messiah, the Son of God. May we have eyes to see and ears to hear.

As we encounter the Lord and Savior of our souls, may he become so real to us that bearing witness will become much more than a systematic method or technique, may it flower beyond simply non verbal pantomime and eventually, we might not be ashamed to acknowledge him but like the woman at the well, joyfully exclaim how Jesus has blessed us beyond measure.

For those of you living nearby, we have a band called Wake the Grace playing
at Spring of Light for Saturday night. The concert starts at 8 pm and you’re
welcome to come. Here is a little info on Wake the Grave:

Hailing from the mean streets of Claxton, Tn, Wake The Grave combines heavy,
pummeling riffs with melodic, heartfelt singing and screaming to make a
unique and pleasurable experience for your ears. We sing about our life and
a huge part of our life is our relationship with our Lord and Savior Jesus
Christ. He is the driving force behind this band and we thank him for
gifting us in what ways he has. Things are just going to get better and
better!! Come check us out!!!

http://www.myspace.com/wakethegrave

If you want your ears pummeled with joyous sounds, feel free to join us!

Grace and Peace,

Doug Floyd

http://www.springoflight.org/

“You have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they find
rest in You.”
St. Augustine

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The clouds softly enclose the sky on this sleepy Saturday morning. For some
reason, I’ve always loved cloudy gray days. They seem a little like my
personality, relaxed and gently ambling along without a driving need to be
anywhere in particular—just happy to be. Today I’m happy to be reclining and
writing, and as I write, my blood enjoys a cleansing through the miracle of
dialysis.

Just above my right breast two small valves or ports connect to two tubes
running to and from the dialysis machine. My blood flows out one tube into
the machine through a series of twist and turns down through a filter and
into another tube that connects back to my chest. In the process,
potentially harmful chemical levels are readjusted and if I have too much
liquid in my system, it is removed.

If I had this same condition less than 100 years ago, I would probably be
dying as the toxins continued to build with no means of adjusting them. God
in His unfathomable goodness choose that I might live at this point in time
and thus enjoy the benefits of a machine.

There are a variety of people sitting in this room with me. Most are at
least 30 years older than me. One man holds his head and softly moans with a
grimace of pain clenching his face. He recently had surgery on both feet as
a result of bone problems associated with kidney disease.

According to one of the patients, this man made a fortune out West. I don’t
know what he did for living but apparently his hard work and ingenuity paid
great dividends, and he enjoyed great wealth. Here’s a man who once could
have anything he wanted, and now someone decides what he can do, where he
sits and even how much he can drink. He cannot even stand up by himself. Two
emergency workers must help him into a wheelchair. I feel sorry him and pray
for him some days because he always seems quite miserable.

As I look around the room, I notice one common thing about each person in
here. We’re all a bit helpless. All of us rely on machines to keep our
bodies working properly. All of us depend on nurses and doctors to take care
of us and in one sense keep us alive.

As the human body ages and when serious physical ailments require medical
assistance, the illusions of independence are stripped away. This state of
helplessness can be just as difficult and maybe more so than the actual
physical problem.

I grew up in a John Wayne world. As tough, self-reliant cowboy, he could
face any difficulty with guts and gusto. His character Rooster Cogburn was
crippled in one leg and had a patch over one eye, yet he was still tough as
nails. The world did not intimidate Rooster and he boldly confronted every
challenge with fierce resolve.

This independent, rough and ready cowboy fed the American myth of the
self-made individual who is unshakeable and can conquer the world through
vim and vigor.

And it is simply not true. All of us stand helpless before the world.
Regardless of wealth, education, and physical prowess, we’re not really that
different. Everyone one of us is completely helpless and every one of us
will die. Helplessness is just more obvious in some people than in others.

In a given day, every one of us relies on probably hundreds, if not
thousands, of other people for survival. When I awake to an alarm clock, I
rely on the engineers who designed that clock, the factory workers who built
that clock, the truck drivers who transported that clock, the sales person
who sold the clock and most likely the electric company who powers the
clock. In reality, this is just of few of the people who helped assure that
clock would wake me up on time for work.

As I take a shower, I rely on the persons who invented indoor plumbing, laid
the water lines, installed the plumbing, and work at the water company. By
the time I reach breakfast, I’ve already depended on a wide range of people
to get my morning started, and as the day progresses, I will rely on a host
more of unseen, unnamed people who will provide my essential needs and make
my life more comfortable.

But what about the hermit in the mountains or the person on the desert
island? They could actually live alone for years with relying on one other
human being, eating directly from the land. Aren’t they self-sufficient?
Think about it, they cannot possibly generate the food or water that will
sustain them. They get water from springs or wells and food from the land.
They are still totally dependent on the land, the sun, the air and the
water.

Whether we acknowledge it or not, all of us are completely dependent. To
survive we depend on other people, on the earth and on God. This dependence,
this helplessness is not a curse at all—it’s a gift. This gift teaches us
that we are not alone and have never been alone.

If we were alone, we could not exist. We are created for relationship. The
varied web of relationships that sustain each of us is far larger than most
of us ever imagined. It circles the world. It extends back in time to
ancient ages. It is bigger and more mysterious than anything we could
observe or chart or fully grasp. And yet it is so easy to fall into the
arrogant illusion of self-sufficiency.

If we but grasped our helplessness, we might fall on our knees in gratitude:
to the sun above and earth below, to the countless people seen and unseen
that meet our continual needs, and most of all to God who sustains all
things and all people (saint and sinner alike) by a love beyond measure.

So as I sit here connected for four hours to a dialysis machine, I can only
respond in thanksgiving for those who’ve made this possible. I invite you
into my helplessness. Not into a sickness or physical malady but into a
realization of our total dependence upon one another. And with that mindset
into a continual stream of thanksgiving for the blessings that overtake us
each moment.

Instead of continually wondering why our lives are not better, we might
cultivate a mindset that wonders why our lives have been so good, so
blessed, and so overwhelmingly wonderful. In so doing, we might begin to
acknowledge the treasures that surround. Instead of complaining for slow
service at restaurant, we might thank the server for their time and effort
in meeting our need. We might thank the clerk in the store, we might thank
the boss who employs us, we might thank the officer who protects us, we
might thank the teachers who instruct us, we might look around with fresh
eyes at the innumerable blessings surrounding us each moment.

And most of all, we might thank God who owes us nothing and yet blesses us
continually whether we are good and evil.

Grace and Peace,

Doug Floyd

http://www.springoflight.org/

“You have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they find
rest in You.”
St. Augustine

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I am so blessed to have friends who have encouraged and prayed for me in the
midst of my kidney challenges. I have not experienced the stress associated
with such a physical condition, but rather I’ve felt the joy and peace of
being surrounded by loving people.

Some of you have asked about updates on my situation, so I thought I might
take a moment to share my current condition. This week is the third week of
dialysis. They put a catheter in my chest to serve as a temporary access
point. Next week I will have surgery on my arm to get a fistula for a more
permanent access.

I go to dialysis three times a week for four hours at a time. While a bit
time consuming, it gives me opportunity to read and write. The first couple
hours are not usually too bad but sometimes the last hour or two can get a
little tiresome. That’s when my blood pressure might drop or I might
experience a bit of cramping. While there are a few physical effects, I
cannot complain. This whole experience has been saturated in grace and
peace.

My doctors are cautious, and that’s why they sent me to ER last week. They
wanted to make sure my catheter was causing any serious problems.

In a couple weeks, Kelly and I will begin training to do home dialysis. To
help prepare, we’ve been overwhelmed with people volunteering to help
convert our basement into a suitable clinic area. Everywhere I turn I have
been blessed and I can only extend thanksgiving to the Lord and to the many
wonderful people he has placed in my life.

Thank again for your thoughts and prayers and may the Lord overwhelm each of
you with His goodness.

Grace and Peace,

Doug Floyd

http://www.springoflight.org/

“You have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they find
rest in You.”
St. Augustine

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Here are few unrelated tidbits.

Jeremy Floyd has some interesting comments on China and the rise of the creative class in America.

I’m reading a new book by NT Wright called Simply Christian. This is sort of a popular synopsis from some of his scholarly works on Jesus and Paul. In one sense it is an apologetic for Christianity much like CS Lewis’s Mere Christianity. Wright uses many of the question circulating in our culture today to discuss his faith. He weaves his discussion of faith through four primary topics: Justice, Beauty, Spirituality and Relationships. Along the way, he demonstrates how these interwined longings all disappoint. We fail in our quest to realize perfection in each of these areas. I would hand this book to anyone to introduce my faith. I highly recomend it and encourage Christians and non-Christians alike to read to see how some Christians might articualte their faith in ways that avoid some of the typical categories.

Still on a quest to discover indie Christian aritsts. If anyone has any reocmendations, send them my way. Here is another one I’ve been checking out:

16 Horsepower – The brainchild of David Eugene Edwards. Folk, appalachian, fiere and brimestone rock. Interesting. Makes me kind of think of the intensity of the Call.