I will expose you, God, where You hide
behind the great gray universe,
twinkling stars like marbles
through the airless air.
I will trace the whorl of your
great thumbprint,
the dust of it, across the darkened sky.
I will call Your bluff,
and blow away the vapor screen
that secrets You beyond our streaming eyes.
I will call You, God, call You loudly forth—
summon You, who laid the angels, wingless,
far from Heaven’s heights,
and barred the entry to Your kindly Kingdom.
I will dare You—challenge You, elliptic God,
to come and shout Your wordless name.
Come!
Cry out Your name, and ours . . . and mine—as fervidly as ecstasy of lightning, as certainly as thunder on our ears.
The Church in the Age of Therapy
In 1966, Philip Rieff wrote in The Triumph of the Therapeutic that “Religious man was born to…
Canada’s Deadliest Blind Spot
On September 20, the Daily Mail ran a story with the provocative headline, “Our 83-year-old Christian grandmother…
The Faithful Joy of Dolly Parton and Fulton Sheen
Dolly Parton and Fulton Sheen seem to have had little in common. She favored rhinestones; he wore…