Why? The Question That Cannot Be Answered

Yesterday Greg sent out the following flurry of tweets:

leading up to

we typically think we've explained

what we call knowledge

to fully explain

why is it important?

To provide some background to these tweets, the following illustration will prove helpful:

They mystery of evil and an eight-second interval

Let’s assume that there is an eight-second interval between two … read more

Borscht* not Bombs!

Obviously, the issues of violence in middle-eastern countries are too complicated to boil down to a clever alliteration or a bowl of soup. But just as obviously, they are too complicated to reduce to the idea that killing all ISIS leaders with bombs from above will bring peace to the region. Having acknowledged the complexity […]

How Will Canada Respond?

Yesterday much of Canada – and a lot of the rest of the world – watched as shootings occurred at our Parliament building in Ottawa. To summarize for anyone who wasn’t aware: one soldier, who was unarmed as it was a ceremonial position, was killed; a couple of others went …

Yes, We Are Nice People

As some of you know, this fabulous foursome gathered in Kansas City a few weeks ago to talk to the Mennonite Church USA board. (Well, Stephanie was really just there to glare at people.) I appreciate the opportunity we were given to share about the movement of the Spirit in our communities and the hopes […]

We Are The Other

I grew up immersed in white culture through private education. I attended predominately white schools from preschool through college. Though I successfully navigated the ins and outs of school, there, I was often too black.

My ponytail didn’t move like the other girls. My father was a step ahead of the hairstyle scene, so I was wearing cornrows the decade before they became super popular again. My hair choices regularly confounded those around me, and I quickly learned to dodge wandering fingers touching my hair without permission.

I was called a nigger and told I look like a monkey. My parents taught me to never place my hands in my pockets or in a purse after touching something on a store shelf and to always hold my receipt until I’ve made it safely to the parking lot. Along with driving lessons came a tutoring session in dealing with the police.

I was questioning what we learned in history class and used every opportunity I could (book report, art project, research paper) to study black history. I learned that I had a choice growing up, I could give the answers teachers were hoping to receive or I could risk the F and speak my truth (ie- Christopher Columbus discovered America? Nope.) Though I succeeded in school, that success was not indicative of sameness. I was regularly negotiating my identity and establishing demands for respect…

Read the rest of this post at SheLoves Magazine by clicking HERE   

Kingdom Conspiracy: Book Review

Scot McKnight has a bee in his bonnet.  He’s been observing how the word “kingdom” has been used over the last few decades and he doesn’t particularly like what he sees.  The word has become a kind of vaguely Christian (or not) catch-all term to describe generically good deeds that have a connection—sometimes strong, sometimes […]

Broken Down

I look out my office window this morning and see a rusty, mud-streaked old pick up truck with a creaky-looking camper on the back stagger and wheeze its way into the church parking lot. Such sights in the church parking lot rarely portent good news, and this particular appearance will prove no different.  A broad-shouldered […]

MennoNerds on Race Vid-cast