In the flesh.I haven't written anything here for awhile, and I'm sorry. My intention is to crank out an essay on why I'm still a Christian (in general) and an evangelical (kind of), but these weeks have been busy and harrowing with the post-traumatic stress of the holiday and the specter of the tsunami.
So in the meantime, a quote. I found this today, quite by accident, while cataloguing some old emails. My beloved sent this to me during the first year we knew each other, and it still rings true. It is the kernel of how both of us manage to keep a foot in evangelicalism and to fight for it--which sometimes looks like fighting against it. Somehow we have managed to find an imperfect church that preaches the gospel of the Word made flesh, that resists Platonizing the body into something to be resisted and ignored and disposed of in favor of the spirit or soul caged within it. Over the last few years I have lived among people who have convinced me that being a Christian means loving this world and dwelling in it and inhabiting it fully as the way in which we know God, and I think it all started here:
"I need sacraments I can receive through my senses. I need God manifested as Christ, who ate and drank and shat and suffered, and laughed." - Andre Dubus