This is part two of a post about how my understanding that God is male got in the way of me figuring out what I want. You can just read this post (it will still make sense), or you might like to read part one first. You can read part one here. The idea that God is male is deeply ingrained. Inside the church and outside of it. For a long time this didn't bother me. I didn't even think about it. It was just the way it was and had always been. But in the last decade, as I have woken up...

In my last blog post I wrote about the most dangerous question: What do you want? This week I want to write to you about a belief that has gotten in the way of me asking that question. (And this is a bit convoluted so you’ll have to go with me). The belief: God is a man. Okay, let’s start with the easy stuff. No, of course I dont think God is a man (ie. hu-man), apart from when he appeared in fully human form as Jesus. He is divine, ultimate, above and beyond our comprehension of what ‘man’ or gender is. But despite this...

I want to tell you about the most dangerous question. And when I say dangerous I mean; difficult, contested, threatened but ultimately life-giving question. It is a question I have been asking myself for the past couple of years on a regular basis. I am ill-equipped to answer it. The question: What do you want? Or, as I ask myself, What do I want? This question shouldn't be hard. I know for lots of people it isn't. Most (not all admittedly, but most) men dont seem to struggle with this question. And I have numerous female friends who don't have to pause for a second before clearly...

I prefix this post by saying: The church is made up of humans who are flawed and messed up, and get lots of things wrong. And despite everything, on Sundays you will find me in church. Because even though this family is dysfunctional, it is home. Like everyone else, we Christians love success. We love the sheen of it and the triumphant music. We love the way it smells and makes us feel. We love to wave our golden ticket, while we are GETTING IT RIGHT AND TELLING YOU ABOUT IT. We want to be heroes in our neighbourhood; helping the sick and...

I recently wrote a post about freedom. This post was a starting point for re-articulating my faith. If you haven't read it you might want to check it out before reading this. The ideas contained in these posts are fresh, and like wet paint have the potential to make a mess. I am stumbling towards truth, inarticulately. I am starting to write about some new truths. Some things my younger self would probably call heresy. There is nothing safe or tidy about this. --- I am good. I spent many years believing the core of me was bad. This idea sounded plausible and reasonable because, like every other sane person on the planet,...

Today is Ash Wednesday. In churches all over the country people are gathering to repent of their sins. They are kneeling while the vicar or celebrant draws a cross of ashes on their forehead as they prepare for Lent, and after that, Easter. I like this. A stopping point, a place to be reminded. It is only recently I have understood what repentance is really about. Maybe you never mis-used or misunderstood repentance, but for a long time I did. Repentance was part of the conversation about how I was messing it up and was not able to get my shit together. It was another way to...

I struggle to articulate the discoveries I have been making about my faith, in part because what I believe cannot easily be squeezed into language. It cannot be condensed and compressed into words, black and white on the page. I am only ever able to scratch the surface, if I am lucky. Even if I had all the time in the world I would still remain unable to articulate the breadth and depth and complexity, the clear and pure simplicity, of the faith I am discovering. This was not always the case. I used to find my faith far more straight forward. For every question there was an...

With regard to my faith I have spent a lot time writing about what isn't. Exploding lies. Debunking myths. That sort of thing. I write about this because it is what I have spent a lot of my time doing in my real life. Unravelling thoughts about my beliefs, chucking out systems that have become constraining. I struggled under the weight of some repressive ideas for a long time. No one forced these mindsets on me. In the way that most things happen it was a mix of my personality, my experiences, my choice, my upbringing, and my pride that combined to intoxicate me with the notion...

It is tempting to want to be a builder; to work with a plan, to know what you are going to produce before you have finished, to be sure about all the details. But better by far to be a gardener; to work with the elements, to be surprised by the things that grow and those that don't, to be malleable and open to change, to have to adapt in order to thrive. Builders have a level of certainty about the outcome. They plan and prepare and Are-Not-Wrong. Rarely does anything happen along the way to change what they are attempting. Sure,...

Recently I've been thinking about the connectedness of everything. About how it is all part of the same thing. We are all substance and soil and soul. We are all atoms and curiosity and magic. And we are all in the conversation. A few years back, we lived close to a big park where I sometimes used to run. I ran to get fit, but really I ran to get out. To leave the house and be alone without children talking and questioning and demanding. I love my children, but by 6pm. after a day on my own with them, I was often ready...