What distinctive gifts does the church bring to the table? What can we offer, right now, in this moment in history? What gifts of the church are suited well for what we need?
Even I have to admit, it looks terrible: broken, rotting stalks, bare dirt, no happy winged visitors. I tell myself there are over-wintering insects in there, that native roots are strong, that spring is coming. But right now: stillness, death.
Miss P recommends relaxed bemusement at the strained and unnecessary efforts of some Christians to claw back holy meaning for Ash Wednesday out of the lacey pink clutches of commercialized romance.
We often wonder what God is calling us to do in a particular moment or passage of life. Could we ask ourselves, in such moments, “What is my blessed unrest here?”
Those of us who teach in humanities fields at university face the threshold of every new semester with the sinking feeling that we have dedicated our lives to something “the culture” no longer values. We’re useless, if not downright nefarious.
These candlelit evenings, ancient hope glimmers like a gift, gleams for a moment, then falters, slips to nothing in the circling of the year, our loves still unsteady, our roots still shallow, every promise a whisper of moth’s wings and still pending.
Katherine Hayhoe is a world-renowned climate scientist, a Christian, and a consummate communicator. This indispensable book covers the facts of climate change, but it focuses on communicating wisely and effectively with others about the climate crisis. (See also Hayhoe’s TED Talk and YouTube channel.)
The New York Times does excellent reporting on climate. Their handy crash course website is organized and accessible, providing recent statistics and information and answering common questions.