Wake me when its over

"riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs."

Thus begins James Joyce's virtually impenetrable masterwork Finnegans Wake. For reasons of which I'm not really aware, I've been taken by a desire to revisit FW for the first time since I was an undergrad. That class was actually one of my favorites--Yeats and Joyce it was called. We read a full anthology of Yeats, as well as Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Ulysses, and portions of FW. Maybe I just need to read something that is not explicitly theological over the summer before the seminary reading onslaught begins anew in the fall.

Two students from my Barth class plan on reading six pages a day of the 10,000-page Church Dogmatics until they finish it...four and a half years from now. Although Joyce wrote FW in his own secret language, I think I prefer its 600 pages, however much I enjoyed Barth (and I did). I read the first 10 pages last night and am cautiously confident that I decoded at least the basic plot.

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SERMON: The Great Omission (Mt. 28:16-20)

This sermon was delivered at Yale Divinity School in 2020 for the class Sacred Moments in African-American Preaching. I begin with a simple observation. Of the four canonical gospels, Matthew is the only one that ends with the words of Jesus. Mark, Luke, and John all end in the narrator’s voice, but Matthew closes with the words of Jesus. Mark ends at the tomb, with the women fleeing in terror and amazement. Luke ends with the disciples in Jerusalem, praising at the temple. John ends on the shore of the Sea of Tiberias, with a dialogue between Jesus and Peter. And here Matthew ends with the disciples in Galilee, meeting Jesus at the mountain where he had directed them. Matthew gives Jesus the last word. But before we get to those last words, there are three other words in this passage that I call to our attention because I find them astonishing. Let me read verse 17 once more. “When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some do...

On this date in history

On July 19, 1997, my life, which had been going pretty darn well, took a turn for the even better. Along with my roommate and bandmate Jeff, I cohosted a Regressives "fan appreciation party" on the roof of my apartment in Hell's Kitchen. In fact, I still have a copy of the invitation, which promised an "early morning dogpile on John Schneider" (unless I'm confusing that with one of our New Year's parties). I'll spare you the details since this is a family blog, but suffice it to say that at approximately 7:15 PM, a petite Asian woman wearing expensive sunglasses, a dayglo lavender miniskirt, and 5-inch platform shoes knocked on my apartment door. Already feeling in good spirits, I opened the door with a sweeping, dramatic gesture and proclaimed, "It's the woman from the deli!" She must have been wondering whether she had the right apartment because I was the only one there; everyone else was up on the roof. In retrospect, I'm amaz...

Where have I been?

What a presumptuous question! But this is a blog, after all, and presumably someone is reading it--that's what the blog's statistics indicate, anyway. I haven't posted at all since Christmas because during my two weeks "off" for Christmas break I: prepared the children's Christmas sermon with my pastoral partner, Dan Yang; wrote the senior high curriculum for the winter youth group retreat; and prepared a seminar for the retreat on the Old Testament. All that took place the first week. The second week was spent at the retreat, from which I got back just in time for the New Year's service. So going back to school on January 3 was actually a welcome break from my break. Since I've been back on campus I've been immersed in my readings for Christianity's Cultured Critics, my course for the fall short term. The readings are not light (Hume, Kant, Schleiermacher, etc.), and I have to keep a daily critical log and prepare a group project for the l...

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