Recent Posts

I grew up in a big, Italian family. Thanksgiving dinners, even when it was “just the family,” meant 30+ people. As you can imagine, that many people means a lot of prep work: buying and cooking the food – over several days and in multiple kitchens, gathering plates, moving furniture, sweeping the floors, settling the schedule (do we eat before or after “the game”?) and my favorite, getting the ice.

Sundays, at times,  have been some of the most frustrating days of my life. The one day of the week when I'm supposed to be getting rest has often been the most unrestful. Reading through 2 Timothy helps me understand why.

Tolkien truly loved nature and was suspicious throughout his life of machines. Although I am not aware if he ever communicated what standards he used to judge whether a particular "advancement" was a thing of Mordor or instead, worthy of the Elves, I think things like beauty, simplicity and "does no harm" would be high on his list.

At the end, Jesus knew his time was coming near. The last few chapters of John are filled with goodbyes: goodbye to friends, a last meal…and a visit to a favorite spot.

All great art must share the gospel. I do not mean it should, I mean it already does. Here's why. One of the things that makes art great is the way it touches us just a little deeper and helps us see things just a little more clearly. The world God has made - and we have tainted - is a mixture of pain and great hope and longing for solutions. Any true picture of this world, any art that rings true, will touch on these realities and in this way communicate some piece of the core of the Gospel, that there is something missing, that there is hope and that it is almost within our reach. Jesus is the answer to the hope and the pain and the longing that all great art stirs.