365

Here we are, exactly one year since my last post. I stopped writing because, for a time, even thinking about the issues I’ve raised in earlier posts has seemed like too much effort. In the last year I have gained a second son and lost a church. At times I have felt truly post-faith, without even the residue of Christianity. But during many moments, I have also experienced a tentative desire to continue to follow Christ even if (maybe only if) he leads me out of Christendom never to return.

Is this the first of many new entries in this blog? I’m honestly not sure. But I’d like to restart an attempt to wrestle with my doubts and hopes in 2013. Watch this space (but not too eagerly).

Uncrossing the finishing line

Staying with a musical theme – on a train journey listening to my iPod the other day, I had two versions of the same song serendipitously shuffled one after the other. The song is I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For by U2, which is a favourite from a few years back. Or at least it was nearly a favourite.

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Soapsuds and sacredness

I’ve had two magic moments this week. On both occasions I made it home after a long drive to find my 15-month son Harry still awake (and in time to finish his bath and put him to bed). I’d expected to be too late to see him, but thanks to some delaying tactics by his mother and clear motorways, I caught a magical 20 minutes. Both were unalloyed joy, an eruption of sheer delight that proved infectious as Harry and I laughed and jostled. Moments you wish you could bottle.

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Blogging with a limp

The Twitterverse/blogosphere is an odd place to be if you’re a numb, faithless washed-up believer who’s gone a week without so much as an inspired moment. There are too many others (some of whom are my friends) whose output is not only prolific but just so damned upbeat. Maybe this is Christian propaganda at work – emphasise the thrilling, joyous reality of life in the Spirit and maybe others will want what we have. But there’s a good chance many of these happy souls are genuinely enjoying a faith that’s meaningful, clear and uncomplicated. Is it right (or even polite) to wish that they feel otherwise? Continue reading

Raging bull(****)

I have a confession to make. Late at night, if I am sprawled in front of the TV, I occasionally flip over to the God Channel with the sole purpose of making myself angry. It’s a somewhat bitter and mean-spirited hobby, to be sure, but one that generates a perverse pleasure. And sometimes it seems a useful way to jolt me out of a numb theolethargy into sharper thinking. Continue reading