theodicy

Ferguson. ISIS. Robin Williams' suicide. Gaza Strip. Ebola. Border refugee crisis. Ukraine. Syrian civil war. Boko Haram. Global warming. It's been a bleak summer worldwide. Not to put too fine a point on it, but it sucks. I've found that when significantly bad things happen, I don't write something. Sometimes, it's because I have an

God haunts me. Let me count the ways. There are days that I wish could escape the whole matter. But it is hard to be a writer or thinker without the skulking raven in the room, except this raven not only says “nevermore,” but “evermore,” as well. And the paradox of God haunts me, too.

Upon the recommendation of Tor.com, I read Dana Horn's A Guide for the Perplexed, a modern retelling of Genesis' Joseph story, here with two Ashkenazi sisters Josephine and Judith, of when he is thrown into a pit/sold into slavery and thought dead. It is intertwined with stories of Moses Maimonides, the author of the eponymous

It has been an unusually difficult Lent. An infant concretizes time in ways never before considered. Against the season, nothing moves slowly. A baby's cry at 3am assures that. If I want to do anything, I have to give myself a buffer of thirty minutes to even get started. I have to plan in ways

The marathon begins in violence, death, and tragedy. Most people do not know that Pheipippides, who ran from the Battle of Marathon to Athens to announce the Greek victory over the Persian threat in 490 BCE, died with the words, "Rejoice, we win!" on his lips. We, as civilizations, have worked hard, through the institution