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Faith amid finitude
Jordinn Nelson Long writes, “This Labor Day, the truest response I have is to point, again and again, toward the resilience of community.”
[The] most effective way I know to do this is to tell you to go and physically be in shared neighborhood space. Walk, roll, scoot, run, play. In the streets where you live and in the ones in the next neighborhood. What do you see? Who do you meet? How do you feel? Where is your attention drawn? Where have you never traveled, where has your gaze never been led? What don't you know? Why? Why? Why?” (Facebook, September 2)
Jordinn also describes the challenges of living with “faith amid finitude.”
Helplessness, as terrible as it sounds, would actually be easy. Accepting, on the other hand, that our work (our voice, our risky loving, our shoulder at the wheel alongside so many others) does indeed matter, and that the outcome still is not and will probably never be up to us alone, is relentlessly challenging. It is the spiritual work of an urgent and ever-present public theology. (Facebook, September 4)
Living deep
Like a 21st century Thoreau, Liz James lives deep—but in a Honda Odyssey rather than a cabin in the woods.
At the beginning of this summer, the mechanic told me that the end was nigh, and that she was safe to drive but might coast to a stop at any moment. I took this as freedom to be creative. I threw out the middle seats, folded down the bench, and put a mattress in the back. I put solar panels on the top that powered a fridge, and created a minor plumbing system, and affixed curtains and removable window paddings and a USB fan system, and spent much of the summer sleeping in that minivan. (Facebook, September 1)
A simple display of emotions
Thandeka shares the complexities of her relationship with her parents.
Some unknown part of me was intrigued and prompted me to try an experiment. From now on I would hug my mother and father whenever I greeted them. With this simple display of emotions on my part, I reasoned, I would force her either to keep me at arms’ length by pushing me away – or embrace me. . . . The first time I hugged Mom, she froze in terror but did not step back. . . . By the end of Mom’s life, we hugged each other like the best of friends because we were. (RevThandeka, August 30)
Don’t overthink it
John Beckett reviews a new-to-him, very old Tarot deck, the Sola Busca Tarot, suggesting two approaches to the cards.
The first is to do some deep research into the origin of these cards and the artwork on them. . . . The second approach is to simply let the cards speak to you. . . . Don’t overthink it – your first impression is probably the best.
In either case, throw out everything you know or think you know about “standard” Tarot meanings. They simply don’t fit with this deck. (Under the Ancient Oaks, September 5)