kim and i just finished watching

this...

this morning i read

the poem "A Color of the Sky" by Tony Hoagland which contains these lines:

What I thought was an end turned out to be a middle.
What I thought was a brick wall turned out to be a tunnel.
What I thought was an injustice
turned out to be a color of the sky.

quite profound in my opinion.

down the etymological tree from paradox to oxymoron

I was reminded of something this morning. Much of Christian thought and practice involves paradox. And it leads me to some questions that I've probably had before, but didn't spend enough time thinking about to be able to offer myself some credible answer. (I know, questions without answers is paradox too.) Nonetheless, it is still helpful to query.

How do we communicate paradox to a post-Christian world? Is there paradox in other ways of thinking beyond philosophy and theology? More importantly, does paradox exist in other ways of living? (I have some motives for such questions, but I'll hold them for now.)

I see quite a bit of "tension" in many people's lives (and in their ways of thinking) which, most of the time, is understood and explained as "conflict." And, the hope is that conflict can be resolved.

For me, paradox is attractive and helpful. It allows me to let go of some of the conflict and leave it as unresolvable. But, quite honestly, then I feel an internal struggle at other times to make sure all the pieces fit together nice and neatly.

Len Sweet's article in the latest edition of Next-Wave stirred this up in me this morning where he states, among other things, "In Christ all opposites are not so much reconciled as transcended in the Oneness of Twoness. We are born for ontological tension: in-but-not-of the world." I like what he suggests, but find it difficult to translate it into usable language for a pastor concerned with outreach. Lest, we just reach out to those for whom paradox means compromise.

All You Need is Love, Da da da da da

I woke up late on New Year's Day. Our bedroom door was shut (I guess that was a late gift from my wife.) With all the intentionality a 2 year old can conjure up, Zoe enters the room and walks to the side of the bed. She places her hand on my chest and says, "I love you Daddy."

A great way to start the new year.