Dear Eugene

Dear Eugene, Yesterday I took a long bus ride, a Sabbath route new to me, to rest in the familiar bosom of Jesus. I ended up at the edge of water. The weather was good, everybody came out to play.  There was only one narrow street going along the seaside, on it a congested parade of beautiful people stuck in their beautiful cars going nowhere.  Apparently they still looked happy to have arrived, even before setting foot on the promised land. I went there to be alone and was not disappointed.  When you are on the beach no one bothers you, especially when you are looking down.  I try to pick one pebble to take home every time I go to a beach, a special enough chosen one. There was a time when my son was really into rocks and minerals.  A visit to our local gems store was a real treat then.  He chose a field guide on the topic from an independent book store not too far from where I was yesterday not too many years ago and I remember it was $12...

Dear Eugene, What is there to speak when the truth chooses to remain elusive, anonymous, silent?  What is a preacher to preach when God chooses to not show up?  Can He?  Of course, don't you think? " Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known ," thus says the Lord who created heaven and earth. But what if the problem is not His?  That we think we are calling on the name of the One True Lord but we aren't?  What if we were just seduced and deceived by the "sweet poison of the false infinite," as C. S. Lewis puts it, and thought we were tasting the real thing? What if God doesn't show up because He wants us to wait?  What if the moment He asks for our waiting happens right in the middle of a sermon, at a tight or even dangerous cross-section where we would rather get out of asap? It's been a year since Leonard Cohen passed away.  (I am still surprised you've made no mention of him i...