I began thinking I could change the world.
Then it turns out I can only change myself.
I still hold out hope that the former can be achieved by the latter.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
The language I formerly used as freely as the air I breath to discuss that which is ineffable is no longer appropriate. The religious categories of my youth no longer hold water. The sacred and the profane are always in question. Perhaps God IS dead. I don't know. My feet are firmly planted on the ground, but still I seek the divine. beneath it all I am sustained by the Metaphysics of Hope.
Blog Archive
Books you might consider reading
- Bluebeard by Kurt Vonnegut
- Anything by Richard Rorty
- How (not) to speak of God by Peter Rollins
No comments:
Post a Comment