2026-01-26T16:16:58+00:00

A Political Post

January 26, 2026/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

This post comes with a warning: I am going to write about politics, as honestly as I can, from my perspective & experience. This will not address issues and/or policy. If this is not what you want to read about, I am not offended, I’ll see you next week.

Last Friday, at 9:15pm, I was in the West Wing of the White House. The events that led to this very strange, unexpected situation will probably be discussed elsewhere – but please know, it was only possible through the overwhelming generosity of people. I have been wildly blessed, so far above what I could ever earn or deserve. This life is the truest, most basic definition, of a gift.

So, I’m in the White House, walking the hallways, soaking in the Oval Office and Roosevelt Room, learning the fascinating stories of the people, paintings, books, chandeliers, and personal offices.

Washington DC is a city that is thick with significance and history. It’s impossible to be there and not feel, to not know, that we are a part of a long, beautiful human story. It’s also impossible to be in Ford’s Theater (where President Lincoln was killed) and not lament the loss of honor and integrity in politics. Lincoln’s life makes the sleaziness of today’s political system seem even sleazier.

As much as I am horrified and repulsed by politics, I quite like politics. I am interested in the idea of how we govern ourselves as a society, how we evolve culturally as human beings, here and now. Of course, I want to throw up at how this often plays out IRL.

There’s a long line of Presidential portraits on the colonnade, with descriptive plaques that have been written by the current President. (Whether they change with each administration and are written by each sitting President, or just this one, I don’t know.) Adorning nearly every wall and doorway are golden designs, bling, or what we’d call bedazzlement. If I had to choose to describe how this looks, it’s like a casino. Or maybe a monument to the one inside.

Rather than go on, in detail, about every room and detail, I’ll give you one more juicy nugget. In the adjacent Eisenhower office building, there is a “fake” Oval Office, that was created for the previous President, whose failing health required certain adjustments. There had to be a giant teleprompter, the floor had to be specially graded, on and on. It was a facade built for TV, a superficial constructed image.

I couldn’t help but notice the contrasts, that defined the men and ideologies, and the thing that makes this whole system so distasteful. One is self-obsessed and arrogant. The other is totally inauthentic, creating a land of make believe. This machine professes to be “by the people, for the people,” and it may have been that, but it is no longer. It is a machine for those on the inside, designed to fool the rest of us, as it grows and grows, dividing us to retain (or regain) power, manipulating us to eat each other. The 2 sides are not very different.

There was a quotation displayed in our hotel, “We used to change our party to meet our principles, now we change our principles to meet our party.”

Here’s the thing, though, that I can’t escape. I think I’ve lost hope, right? I think I’d like to dismantle the whole ugly system. But walking around that city, in those buildings, hearing the stories that defined this country…well, as it turns out, I am hopeful. The White House and DC had an effect different than the one I expected. I do believe in us, I always have. Of course, I think the parties (for some sad reason, they’ve become our only 2 choices) have lost their way, and I think they’ve led us astray, but I absolutely think we’ll find our way back. I know we’re more similar than different, I know love and listening can and will change this world. Maybe not in time to avoid collapse, but in the end, it’ll be you and me building something new together. Like it was then, it’ll be again. It’s never been easy, always messy and often gross, but we grow and develop, we leave behind what is beneath us, we carry and pick up what it valuable, and we find out at least one thing has never changed: human beings are better together. And I promise that we will remember that, and that what we build (or rebuild) will be stunning.

A New Basketball Season…

January 12, 2026/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

The site prompt for today is, “What snack would you eat right now?” I sometimes use these prompts as a springboard, but I’m telling you today’s to illustrate that they’re not all awesome. Some of them are about snacks. Not every shot goes in.

You’re not surprised about that last sentence. I am a man who was raised to love sports (most all sports – I can even find things to like about soccer), so many of my examples and metaphors point in that direction. You know this, and you’ve probably been missing the posts I’ve built around youth sports.

So, I’ll fill you in.

My youngest son is playing on his college basketball team. He’s playing very well, and so is the team. It isn’t translating into wins yet, they’re in the process of a complete culture transformation. They’ve had several down years, so they’re re-learning what is possible for them. It’s easy to draw parallels to “real” life, away from the court. We examined & evaluated our lives, probably set some new year’s resolutions, we’re in the process of complete cultural transformations in ourselves. Now what? What happens when we lose (fail, backslide, regress) or fall? Do we listen to the voices in our heads that tell us that’s just who we are? Most new year’s resolutions are thrown away and forgotten by February. Transformation takes time and patience, and a refusal to entertain the same old story that keeps us sick.

So many of the words I’ve written here discussed the abysmal officiating (in all sports) at the high school level (and below.) This has not been the case for most of the games here. As the players improve, so do the referees. Mostly. There have been games that have been so poorly officiated, it could break your heart. The depressing thing is that the young men give so much time and energy, so much of themselves, to their craft, it feels like a huge disservice that the officials can’t do the same. (I do recognize that maybe they do, and these nights are simply aberrations, just isolated bad games in a career of competence. Maybe.) I sometimes have an urge to apologize to both teams for what we’ve collectively provided to support them. We show up to our jobs and spouses and children and communities, and we give the best we have to give, learn and grow, because it’s the way we honor Our God, and each other.

Speaking of growth, practicing grace in this space is an area in which I’m mindful. So far, it’s pretty easy, I’m constantly overwhelmed with gratitude. These days are beautiful, the environments are alive & electric, and the sport is fantastic.

And that’s the biggest connection, isn’t it? Do I “have to” go to these games, or do I “get to” go to these games? Am I missing the joy of watching these young men (including my son) explore their gifts (athletic and otherwise), choosing instead to stay angry at anything/everything else? Are these games becoming a stressor instead of a release? Do wins and losses matter more than all of the million other positive aspects of sport? Have I lost the point while living vicariously through these college students? Have I forgotten to love?

Am I remembering to love the players, the other parents, fans, staff, the depth, complexity, and beauty of the game, remembering to love it all? Am I remembering to love the time? It won’t always be here, we won’t always have this opportunity – I wonder if we’ll think about the results of the games ever again. We get to drive the hours together to sit in a gym and watch our boy become a man, watch all of these boys become men.

Last night, a parent was inconsolable, screaming in the stands about coaching decisions. It reminds me of Jacob, in the Bible, who wakes up and says, “Surely God was in this place and I was unaware.” I think this dad is going to say the same thing.

I have before, and I don’t want to say it ever again. It’s a new season, but I have the same focus: to be fully awake & present to this wonderful life.

At The Hollywood Bowl

January 6, 2026/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

It is my practice to listen to music while I write. This morning, the music is an entire Morrissey concert from the Hollywood Bowl on YouTube. [The opener was “The Queen Is Dead,” and now, it’s “The Last of The Famous International Playboys.”] This was a very good decision.

You see, I woke up on the metaphorical wrong side of the bed. I just wrote an apology email to the Angel, for my attitude. Nothing happened, specifically, just an overall tone that didn’t feel…

[A quick note: he’s playing “Ganglord” now, which is a b-side and a very pleasantly surprising inclusion in a live show.]

…didn’t feel great. Do you know when you have a t-shirt on and throw a sweater over it, and the sleeves of the t-shirt get twisted and bunched? Like you still have a t-shirt and sweater, maybe nobody else knows what’s gong on underneath, but you’re constantly fidgeting because it’s just not quite right, a little off? That’s what it felt like, and I assume my unease was communicated to her. I am mostly incapable of hiding anything, every thought and emotion is worn on the outside, so that seems a fair assumption.

[“The National Front Disco.” I recognize that Morrissey can be somewhat problematic, but so is everybody, if you read certain perspectives. Admittedly based upon nothing but his lyrics and older interviews, I happen to not believe any of the racism allegations against him. He’s not problematic in the least to me.]

Last night, I told her that I am the most authentic person she knows (this was half-joking and with context, not just an odd random statement). This is probably true, and not always anyone’s favorite characteristic. I used to be sort of a human chameleon, trying to fit into whatever you wanted me to be/say/do/think.

[His shirt is off and an audience member has a souvenir.]

But the more time I spent in the Bible, the more I learned to value honesty. If God doesn’t want my pretending, faking the “right” answers, and if I was willing to expose my true heart to Him, then I could to everyone else, too. And so many relationships stall because of an unwillingness to relate in any real, transparent way, I decided not to be the unwilling obstacle anymore.

[He’s just given the microphone to a woman in the 1st row, who is thanking him. That’s interesting. Now, “The Boy With The Thorn In His Side.”]

Of course, it’s not always been easy or simple, and has caused it’s own fair share of relational strife. This kind feels much better, though. The way I figure it, if you’ll have a problem with me, it’ll be with me, not some silly construct or mask I’ve chosen to wear. It has led to many emails like the one I just wrote. She’s a very good woman, and forgives easily. Maybe that’s what marriage is all about, choosing to love each other enough to truly forgive, almost on a continual basis, to where it’s natural and instinctual. You are you and I am me, and we are here, together. Maybe forgiveness like this is the most obvious indicator of a healthy selflessness.

This has been a strange post, I don’t know what I’m trying to say, if I’m trying to say anything. This concert is so good, I’m still awfully tired, but my spirit is noticeably lifted. Beauty has a tendency to do that. Maybe if we all had more beauty in our lives, things would look much different than they do now. If world leaders would spend a moment reading books and listening to great albums, maybe we’d not be in such a constant, overwhelming mess. If we all listened to The World Won’t Listen before we left the house, I bet we’d start to find ourselves predisposed to kindness, that love would be our default setting.

[“Disappointed.” Nice. And “I’ve Changed My Plea To Guilty.” He sounds as good as I have ever heard him. The Smoking Popes have a song lyric, “I don’t know if you saved my life, but you changed it, that’s for sure.” That’s exactly how I feel about this person on my tv. I don’t know who I’d be today, if I’d be today, but I sure wouldn’t be who I am. I am grateful to be here. “Everyday Is Like Sunday.”]

I guess what I really think, in the deepest parts of me, is that this life doesn’t have to just be anything, that it can be what we make it. We get to choose what we see & hear (what we search and select on YouTube), and we get to choose our output just as easily as our input. And maybe we could be the ones creating the beauty that begins to unwind the chaos that currently defines, replacing the noise with the truly inspired chords and melody that we’d all love to hear.

A New Story

December 23, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

My favorite album of all time is The Queen is Dead, by the Smiths. Number 2 is Fumbling Towards Ecstasy, by Sarah McLachlan. And 3rd is August & Everything After, by Counting Crows. (I only allow myself 1 album from the Smiths or Morrissey. It’s the same logic when I make a list of favorite songs. I probably like all Morrissey songs more than I like “I Remember You,” by Skid Row, but that feels against the spirit of the list, so I set a limit and move forward. The song I put at #2 is “I Can’t Help Myself,” by Gene, and it might be in the top 10, top 20 for sure, if i included all of the songs, but it would really be only one of 2 or 3 non-Morrissey/Smiths in the top 100 or so. Anyway.)

There’s a Counting Crows documentary on HBO now that is so great. If you haven’t seen it, you need to watch it immediately.

I don’t know what to say now. Do I tell you about it? About the SNL performance? About the backlash? About Adam Duritz’s mental illness? I don’t want to tell you about any of those things, but I don’t know what to write.

We can’t describe the best art; we can talk about style, subject, technique, but they don’t ever do the piece justice. We can get an idea or what it is, or what it means, but it’s still just an obvious inadequacy. It’s like if I tell you what it’s like to kiss the Angel. There just aren’t words.

If you listen to a live recording of “Round Here,” maybe you’ll understand what is so deeply important about this band. Maybe don’t read the lyrics first, and certainly not while you watch – they’re perfect, but without his voice and the band and the moment where the guitars and drums and “she must be tired of something,” much is lost. A live band is different from a record.

This reminds me of a church service. Yes, you can watch it on YouTube or read the sermon transcript, but you’ll miss the urgency and the crackling energy of the message and God’s hand on your heart.

I guess what I mean is that you have those spaces that really matter. At least, I hope you do. I suspect that we, as a culture, are moving away from authentic connection and experience. Driving a car in a video game is not driving a car, and I think we’re starting to believe it is.

And I guess what I’m trying to ask is if you’d please see someone in person, show up, hold someone’s hand, kiss your wife or your husband. And not just send a kissy emoji. Life can be the most wonderful (of course, it can also be the worst, but so is everything), and this is a season that is inviting us into a new story, but it’s a story that has to be lived.

I hope, this year, we all choose to live it.

Fantastic

December 9, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I didn’t go to the theater to see Fantastic 4: First Steps, because the MCU has inexplicably made the decision to abandon the beauty and depth of its first phases, and focus instead on mindless cash grabs and insulting their audience. I thought maybe the She-Hulk series and, especially, the 4th Thor movie, Love & Thunder (which I refuse to acknowledge as artwork), would end my relationship with Marvel. It didn’t, but I no longer go to see them opening weekend (or in theaters at all).

I’ve watched this new Fantastic 4 movie 3 times now, and I love it more each time, and I know exactly why.

First, Galactus is the villain, but that’s not the point. The inter-planetary threat is just the context for characters and relationships. This is what set the first 20ish MCU movies apart. It was never about CGI and superpowers. We cared so much because their concerns were ours – love, friendship, courage in the face of adversity, perseverance, egotism, the always present choice between selfishness and selflessness, and the impact we can have upon our worlds. The rest was just the device for this very vital human expression. So, yes, Galactus was cool, but whatever.

We fall in love quickly with the 4 and this new baby. Their concerns are relatable and heavy. Will this baby change us, our marriage? What about our careers, will/can we keep the same commitment to several places at once? Will our values transform, and if they do, what does that look like? When everything changes in a moment, how do we put it all back together, if we decide to put it back together at all? And what role do our families & communities have in that?

The only other one I’ll talk about is the world they inhabit, an earth that is not ours. A world where the people are empathetic, kind and helpful, where an angry mob can listen to Sue Storm and have their perspectives immediately change, where all of the countries of the world can cooperate in a massive combined effort. These are all such foreign concepts to us. Can you imagine if a small group relays a message like this: A being is coming to consume the planet, we’ll figure it out. Then, when we have, you’ll have to trust us enough to turn your power off to conserve, and devote all of your money and energy to this end? HA! This is a world we’d like to live in, but that none of us can manage to work up the courage to go first to make it that way.

In the end credits for the Thunderbolts, it looked like the Fantastic 4 were coming here. They won’t have any idea what to do, it’ll be the culture shock of all culture shocks. They’ll find people who don’t seem to like each other at all, and a selfish disregard for everything that exists outside of a small personal circle. Now, I have no idea what is in the plans for the new direction of the MCU, they can build on the beauty of Thunderbolts and First Steps, or they could have a 2nd season of She-Hulk or, worse, bring Taika Waititi back for another movie. But maybe they could explore the differences between that earth and our own, maybe the next great battle is between our shared humanity and our inhumanity, manufactured from a deep well of fear.

I hope we win.

Yet Another Post on Gratitude

November 5, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Last night, my family and I had a fight before church. That’s a funny idea, isn’t it? And hour before I’d be giving a message of love, patience, and reconciliation, we were standing in the hallway between the kitchen and living room, raising our voices, loudly voicing our expectations of ourselves and the others, before we realized (as my wife so brilliantly stated) “we’re in a Three’s Company episode.”

Three’s Company was The Greatest Show In TV History and every episode followed a template etched deeply in stone. The set-up led to a big, hilarious misunderstanding, followed by a happy resolution, all in 22 minutes, set to a regrettable 70’s laugh track.

Our misunderstanding was easily resolved, too, and would have been in less than 22 minutes if only 1 of 2 things would have occurred. 1. We would have not had any expectations. This is obvious, probably. Anytime we decide who goes in what boxes before they even have a chance to choose for themselves, we create the perfect environment for relational catastrophe. We have grown miles in this arena, but we still manage to occasionally fall anyway. Which leads us to the 2nd. We would have clearly expressed our stories, correcting the misunderstanding as it began to unfold. This eventually happened, and as my oldest son explained, I knew we had wasted an hour of our lives on boxes and faulty stories and a dumb Three’s Company plot without the laughs.

And this made me think of something I wrote in a text message to The Angel earlier. (I recognize that I talk about this woman as if she is an actual angel, and it must make us all nauseous, but she is… or at the very least, she is to me, and this is a great illustration of the point I’d like to make.) I thought about what makes our marriage different. Yes, of course, she’s the best, but maybe even more than that, I am deeply deeply grateful that God brought her to me and allowed me to love her. I told her that what I figured makes us different is the gratitude.

As I sit in a worn out chair in a room with old, poorly laid carpet that has been stained by pets in some areas, I love where I sit, which is to say, I am totally thankful for this perfectly imperfect space where I sit. My muscles are sore from a tough workout yesterday. And I know how almost everything in that sentence is wonderful and extraordinary. Yesterday I spoke with my sister, every Tuesday at 9am I speak with my sister. I could continue, and I would. But these blessings are almost ridiculous to think could ever, in any wildest dream, happen to me.

So, now, what about our fight? I just forgot to be grateful. This sounds silly because, how can you forget as you’re looking into the eyes of your son and wife? Right?!!? How can you, indeed. And yet, I did. I guess that’s what makes gratitude a practice. When I was a baseball player, I could do certain things that I couldn’t today, only because I haven’t done those certain things in 100 years. I’m out of practice. Because I could throw a fastball on the outside corner yesterday or in 1996 doesn’t mean I can now. And just because I was peacefully grateful and aware at lunchtime yesterday doesn’t mean I couldn’t be fighting with these divine gifts at 6pm.

This is yet another post on gratitude because I need it, we all need to be reminded of the grace that is crackling all around us. In a world that can be so full of ugliness, where we can be distracted beneath our anxiety, depression, and fear, it’s easy to forget. And it’s our job to remind each other of the overwhelming beauty and love that is all around us.

Season Passes

October 6, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

This summer, my youngest son and I used our season passes to go to the local amusement park (Hersheypark) once or twice a week, every week, throughout the summer. We love roller coasters, this is certainly true, but the motivation, at least for me, was to spend these few hours with him. He didn’t always take his phone and hardly ever looked at it. We just walked and talked, compiled lists (about everything), watched people, laughed, lost our breath, got and stayed dizzy, and walked some more. As far as great ideas we’ve had, this is up there towards the top.

Then, in August, he set sail for college and, as next year’s passes went on sale, I asked if he’d like to do it again. Probably not, was his answer. He’d hopefully have an internship. Of course, he would. Maybe he won’t even come home next summer.

Some things you don’t hear with your ears, you feel with your heart.

I pretended that it didn’t hurt, oh yeah, sure, no problem. And I started to think about Jesus.

There’s a story in the Bible, (I’m not sure if this is what the passage actually means…you know, I’m not even sure if “actually means” is important. If the Scriptures reach you in a beautiful, significant way, than maybe that’s the only “actually” that matters. Anyway.), after the resurrection, Mary cries out to Jesus, Who says, “Don’t hold on to me.” That’s an interesting thing to say. Why not? He was dead and now is alive, why can’t I hold on to you? Why can’t I hold you so tightly I never lose you again?? But maybe He’s saying holding on, trying to keep things as they are, static, unchanging, isn’t how this whole thing works. Maybe this whole creation is about movement, growing, about transformation. And none of that happens while we’re sitting down, arms folded, pouting, wishing time to stop, holding on to how it is.

[…I had a political thought here, but decided to excise it. We have a tendency to get stuck in our political quicksand, and miss everything else, so unless your thought, or in this case, post, IS about politics, it’s just an obstacle, isn’t it?]

So, I wanted to hold on to (another translation says “cling to”) my boy, Hersheypark, this summer. I also want him to go, meet people, take classes, do all of the things he wants to do. I want him to have the best internship anyone has ever had. But I wish his new life included Hersheypark with me. All of this is simultaneously true, and it’s sometimes hard to hold together, with peace and grace.

I guess we all have a choice, in every moment.

I’m writing this now, but I’ll post it while the Angel and I are on vacation. I might not want to sit down and write from the beach or while I could be holding and smooching her. This vacation will be (is) awesome, and maybe I won’t want to come home. Maybe I’ll want to cling. Then what?

Our choice is to hold on with white knuckles, full of rage and fear, trying to steer this ship where it will not go. OR. We can be here now, enjoy it, and soak in every last drop of the blessing, let it change us, and move forward as new me’s and you’s.

“Don’t hold on to me.” Don’t hold on to the way it is, the way it was, just who we are, the comfortable known, even if it’s some of the best hours we’ve ever spent. We are called into a beautiful, dynamic adventure. We take shots, risk, leap. This is not, and never was, about keeping this terrific person here in this house in my pocket, it’s about sending him out, just like it is for us. The story of Abraham begins with a word, “Go.” The story of the early Church begins with the same word. Why do we think ours would be any different?

We loved every second of each other, and the time we spent this summer. Not because it would never end, but because we were totally present and engaged. We were really, truly living these blessings. Yes, I was there, it was fantastic, and I am now a different man. And maybe that is as good of a definition of overwhelming gratitude as we’ll ever find.

#1 Priority Tomorrow

September 29, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

What is my #1 priority tomorrow? The hosting site wants to know. I’ll tell you this, tomorrow will not be as great as today. It’ll be awesome, but it won’t be today.

The Angel arranged a sort-of card “shower,” where people sent birthday cards to her to give to me all at once. So, for the last few days, I’ve read a few each day, and today, opened and read the rest. There is a concept called the 5 Love Languages (we give/receive love in different ways, it’s important we communicate our love in ways we understand), my primary is physical touch, but my second is words of affirmation. This kind of thing is misnamed, it’s an overwhelming tidal wave of love, instead of a shower, for a words man.

So, tomorrow, I’ll get back into ordinary time. That’s a liturgical (religious) term that refers to the days & months outside of the big spiritual seasons, like Advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter, etc. I only use it ironically, and I use it ironically here, too.

There is no such thing as “ordinary time.” Ordinary means common, everyday, and listen to what else I read about being ordinary: “If you describe someone or something as ordinary, you mean they are not interesting in any way and may be rather dull. I’m just a very ordinary, boring normal guy.” What?!!!?? Is anything ordinary? Not interesting in any way? Common?

So, tomorrow, I’m talking to my sister on the phone like I do every Tuesday at 9am. It is our usual time to talk, and it is NOT ordinary. Then, I’m taking a meal to a woman who is recovering from heart surgery, and I’ll probably stay for a little while. What could possibly be considered ordinary about that? Then, in the afternoon… well, a woman reached out to me, in a very vulnerable way, about purpose, direction, restlessness, and a thousand other swirling emotions. First, that kind of reaching out is not, in any way, ordinary, and 2nd, that I get the privilege of sharing that space with her – not ordinary. In the evening, our community has our weekly prayer space. This hour is a lot of things, but ordinary is not one of them.

I guess our lives can be ordinary, but that only happens when we forget how valuable they are, how valuable we are. When we stop living with the immense gratitude all of this beautiful grace requires. When we take the sacred energy all around us, between us, for granted.

You know what else I did today? I kissed the Angel. (That sounds like a metaphor, and maybe it would be a good one, but in this case, it’s just what happened.) We’ve been together for 27 years, and have kissed each other countless times (did I mention I am a physical touch??). I can’t (and don’t want to) imagine a day where those kisses are simply ordinary, “not interesting in any way… and rather dull.” They are remarkable, every single time.

So, now, what is my #1 priority? I’ll tell you. My priority, tomorrow and every day, is to destroy this nonsense that our lives are ordinary, and to join you as we reclaim the divine in every person, every moment. We’ll knock down every wall that has been built with the lies that sold us that anything could ever be just ordinary.

Super, Man

September 22, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Last post, we talked about Sarah, now we’ll talk about Superman. I don’t know what ties them together – maybe there’s some thread (no mater how thin) that could philosophically link the two – but, for today, for the purpose of this post, the only thing they have in common is me.

The newest Superman movie was released this year, the first in the James Gunn DCU reboot. I recognize it’s entirely possible that you have no idea what the words in the 2nd half of that sentence mean, but that’s not too important. It’s superheroes and comic book movies. Sometimes, they’re terrific, using the extraordinary circumstances to discuss very real, very human, situations and relationships. And sometimes, they’re not terrific, just capes and CGI. Superman is mostly terrific.

In 1998, Gus Van Sant directed Psycho, starring Vince Vaughn. It’s probably best to call it a cover version of the original. Of course, cover versions are usually used for music, but this was a shot-for-shot remake, like a new band playing the same chords, singing the same lyrics, ostensibly trying to bring something new to the material. This Psycho didn’t, though. It was dumb and absolutely pointless, and since then, the question, “why?” has been in my head when a new/old character is introduced. In this case, is it really necessary to create another universe with another Superman? And, oh baby, it really is.

There’s a scene where Lois is criticizing Superman, saying, “My point is I question everything and everyone. You trust everyone and think everyone you ever met is, like…beautiful.” That’s why it’s necessary, vital, here & now.

We are a world, generations deep, of Loises. We question, doubt, distrust. We’re cynical and jaded, probably for very good reason. But our new humanity (in-humanity) is not conducive in any way to connection or relationship. So, we’re isolated in our room, on our screens, creating stories in our heads about “them,” stripping them of any similarities to ourselves, making the incivility and violence, not only possible, but inevitable. When schools, or anywhere, are shot up (over 300 mass shootings in the US so far this year), they don’t even make the news and we hardly blink. Charlie Kirk is murdered because of what? A difference in perspective? Maybe you don’t like his point of view, maybe I don’t, maybe you and I do, but to elevate a disagreement into an excuse for a wife to lose her husband and his children to lose their daddy is…very…predictable. We were sad, horrified (no matter your politics, because a human being lost his life), but we were not surprised.

This culture of division and hatred is not one any of us truly want to live in, so we don’t just want Superman. We need Superman.

I don’t know if we find the art or fictional stories because we’re a certain way, or if we’re a certain way because of the art and stories we consume, but when Lois pseudo-insulted Superman in the way she did, she was talking to me, too. (Maybe I seek out the world I want, or the world was shown to me, and I accepted it as my own – at this point, who cares?) I trust everybody, love everybody and think you are beautiful and awesome. It was no insult.

Of course, as you can imagine, this ideal that I hold doesn’t always end happily. Sometimes, it ends in tears and heartbreak. And that is ok with me, it’s the cost of living this way, fully present and all the way in.

What I know is that I’m far more depressed at the way we’ve fallen into disrepair, chosen loneliness, increasingly willing to sacrifice the others to the god of self, the god of meeeee. This hurts me more than a friend’s lies, betrayal, ugliness. It’s much easier to change your mind than transform the groupthink of a mob, especially when we’ve bought the arrogant delusion that this is all the intellectual progress of a people.

Superman is embarrassingly naive and hopeful. Can there be anything more refreshing than that?? Than hope? Than a belief in the good of each other? Than forgiveness? Than respect? Than love?

At the end of the movie, he saves Metropolis and that world. Maybe he can save ours, too.

Home at College

September 1, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I’m not watching much tv, outside of Fisk, repeating the 3 seasons. And when I get through them for the second time, I’ll start on the 3rd. I’m listening to Kitty Flanagan’s book 488 Rules For Life, and probably, when it’s over, I’ll just restart that, too. (Maybe not, there is another book to dig into. But as good as this one about the Rules is, maybe I won’t.)

My youngest son is now entering his 2nd week in college. My college experience was really, really awful. It’s no exaggeration to say I hated almost every day, with 2 big exceptions.

The first is that I played baseball, and I loved playing baseball, at a every level. Incidentally, I had a dream that lasted 22 years to play professionally, and I worked and worked, went to all of the all-star games, attended several open tryouts. But alas, I was not good enough. There is no shame in this, and I feel no shame at all telling you. I gave all I had to my dream (at the time, it was the only thing I could have said that about), and have zero regrets. I heard someone say, no matter what level you stop playing, you only stop playing because you’re not good enough for the next level, and that is almost never not true (no matter what the dads in the stands at high school football games say.) I was a college baseball player, and loved it 3,000.

The other exception was, obviously, the Angel. I met her in my junior year (which was not my 3rd year – I was on the extended plan;), and began dating her in my last semester. (It was a very good thing I was on that extended plan, I would have been long gone by that last semester if I was more focused and motivated.) She’s better than baseball, and I love her way more than 3,000.

Anyway, my boy sent me a video of a classmate playing his guitar and singing along with a girl who may or may not be a romantic interest. The song was “Home,” by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros – you know it, here’s the first verse and chorus:

Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my ma and pa, not the way that I do love you… Well, holy moly, me oh my, you’re the apple of my eye, Girl, I never loved one like you… Man oh man, you’re my best friend, I scream it to the nothingness, there ain’t nothing that I need… Well, hot and heavy pumpkin pie, cotton candy, Jesus Christ, there ain’t nothing please me more than you … Oh, home, let me come home, home is wherever I’m with you. Oh, home, let me come home, home is wherever I’m with you.

You know it, right? You love it, too. I know you do, because everybody does. The only people that don’t are those who are trying to have a too cool, imagined elitist, take – those people you don’t want to hang out with anyway. They are not your friends.

This college guitarist was surprisingly good, and the 2 of them sang together, and that was also surprisingly good. I watched the video several times, and since I’m a sucker for this type of beauty, I do hope she’s a romantic interest for my boy. But here’s the thing that’s more important, that I texted him his morning: this is what I want college to be, for him. A space with the free exchange of stories, ideas,

(I’ll continue in a second, but it seems important to tell you that, right now, outside my front door, the Angel has returned from her walk and is singing out loud while she stretches. I have the best life and it is rare that I forget that simple fact. I’m going to kiss her in a second.)

…free exchange of stories, ideas, talents, and hearts. This is also what I think the Church is, lots and lots of people being exactly who they are, and that who they are is accepted, appreciated, embraced, and loved by the others who are also being exactly who they are. These are places where we are invited to share ourselves, with vulnerability and complete authenticity.

He responded, “I really love it here.” Of course, you do, buddy. We all do, it’s home.

Love With A Capital L

A journey towards living an inspired life of love in the modern world

Tag: beauty