What is it that really matters to us? Of course the particulars differ from person to person. But I’m inclined to believe we are more alike than different. There are commonalities among all persons, despite the fact we are perpetually at each other’s throats, and despite our diverse upbringings, during which we are forced to swallow cultural, political, and religious lies from Day 1. I have nothing against culture, politics, or religion. I am talking…
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Love the song. Big hit by the American alternative rock band, REM, from their 1991 album, Out of Time. May seem strange coming from a man of faith, this love, someone who lost, then found his religion. I don’t mean “religion,” as in being “religious” in the way assorted self-described “spiritual” folks interpret it (as being a stultifying, perfunctory, impersonal, shallow, superstitious, law-driven, misguided, self-serving, man-made approach to faith), but in the true original sense…
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Who the hell do you think you are? Can’t place it, the moment or location, but hasn’t just about everyone been asked this question in this precise way some time in his life? Maybe it was in Spanish, in my case. Or maybe it was a rhetorical question, directed by a frustrated elder or superior at not just me but those around me as well, the Captive Collective (e.g., classroom, military barracks, locker room, office,…
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Until this past Christmas I had never given the innkeeper who offered his stable for the night much thought or what Joseph occupied himself with the days immediately after the birth of Jesus. It stands to reason that Jesus, Mary and Joseph didn’t go anywhere for at least a few days after the birth and Joseph, being a carpenter, may have employed his skills on behalf of the innkeeper to pay for lodging and food….
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