Why I Quit Writing

So I am bent and broken. Shattered and being shaped (deformed?). By what? By whom? Time will tell. Or maybe it won’t. Maybe all that time will give me is the chance to get some distance, look back, and make up some over-arching narrative that will try to give a meaning, or purpose, to this season of my life. And this version of me will be here to remind that version of me that no, it did not make sense.

“This Man Is God’s Son”

And then he, our Lord, our Redeemer and friend, the Beloved Son of God, dies. He expires. He breathes his last. Literally “breathed out his spirit.” In one last act of compassion, Jesus, in his death as the world in cruelty murders him, breathes out his spirit, his life, on us. He gives his life to us even as we put him to death.

Friends of God, Friends of One Another

We need not fear, as friends, looking upon each other in holy, spiritual friendship. We do not need to fear to see and be seen by our friends. We walk side-by-side as pilgrims on the way in pursuit of the face of God (Psalm 27:8). But along the way, we can stop to recline and find rest in each other’s bosom, delighting in the love of our friends as they delight in ours.

Jesus Loves Me, This I Know

Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. These are some of the first words I ever learned to sing in Sunday School, some of the first words I remember ever learning. Jesus loves me, this I know. My calling to celibacy is not me holding on, white-knuckled, to a faint hope that God might take notice of me if I act heroically enough. No, it is the submission of trusting love that is elicited from me by the love of Another, by the love of God in Christ.

Letter & Liturgy

Christian Reviews of Ideas and Culture

Chris Damian

Catholicism, (homo)eros, and everthing else

Paradiso

"To live, to love is to be failed, to forgive, to have failed, to be forgiven, for ever and ever." Gillian Rose