The Presbyterian Outlook

News and Articles from the The Presbyterian Outlook

Top Search/Contact Area

The truth of poetry

by Leave a Comment

Nancy Miller Gomez worked first in news broadcasting and then for a reality show, both purporting to be truth-telling genres. But the need for advertising dollars made sure “truth” was employed as a commercial ploy. “Don’t let the facts get in the way of the story!” an executive producer once barked at her when she raised a flag about the misinformation they were readying to broadcast. They were not interested in truth, only selling the idea of truth. So, she quit. She enrolled in poetry class, wrote poems, and then went into Salina Valley State Prison, a level four maximum-security prison in California to teach murderers to write poetry — not to give back to society, but because “this is where I had come to try to redeem myself, one word, one person, one poem at a time,” she wrote in “Chapbook: Punishment.” When I was young, I thought poetry was about embellishment, a way make the ordinary ornate. When I was in college, I thought poetry was the highest form of literary … [Read more...]

Tagged With: poetry & story

Enough

by Leave a Comment

After hearing Jezebel expound on her state policy of murdering protesters of her injustices, Elijah sat down under a solitary broom tree and prayed that he might die. “I have had enough, Lord,” he said. “Take my life, for I am no better than my ancestors who have already died.”  — 1 Kings 19:4 I have had enough! Enough of Bullets sprayed on Black bodies and Jewish bodies and any-body deemed a no-body Enough of Hatred spewed from pulpits and pundits Lies promulgated by preachers and presidents Enough of the Apotheosis of White America IT    IS    ENOUGH Enough of this world where you can get gunned down while shopping, this world where you can get gunned down while worshipping, this world where doors of synagogues and churches and mosques must be locked to keep out machines of death and their mad wielders I am no better than my ancestors So    Let     Me    Be, with my lynched fathers, shot-dead grandmothers, chest-torn mothers covered with blood soaked prayer … [Read more...]

Meet many strangers

by Leave a Comment

Books are like friends — both have an inordinate influence in your life. I have two middle schoolers and I know the weight of my words next to their friends’ words: a feather. I can’t get my son to cut his hair, but I know if a friend said, “Bro! You tryin’ to grow Samson locks!” he would get a crew cut the next morning. To some extent, the sports he will follow for life, the subject that can flower into a career and the songs that will inform his emotional life will depend greatly on the people he calls friends. I’ve been advised to pray unceasingly for good friends for my children. Books have such friend-like sway. So, we are rightfully choosy in our books. When we invite a book into our living room, the book tells us what is good and what is not. A character in a story can become our ideal self, a metaphor in a poem can shatter a worldview, an essay can plot our political affection. That’s why we ask for reading lists. We want our trusted human friends to introduce us to … [Read more...]

The time machine of music

by Leave a Comment

  The Pandora app turns your car into a time machine. The app lets you create your own radio station. You don’t have to waddle through the swamp of static and asinine talk show hosts to get to the music your mood demands. Pandora gives you Promethean control over the fire of music. You type a song or an artist’s name and your subconscious hankering births, through the company’s guarded top-secret algorithm, your own playlist-world! You then fine-tune this playlist with your Caesar-thumb: thumbs down sends the song to the lions, thumbs up blesses a song to propagate. Put that self-generated music playlist in the perfect sound room, your car – a moving aural capsule shutting out the noises of the world and leaving the clamors of the world in its rearview mirror – and now music is your all-encompassing environment, a microworld speeding past trees, highway exits, road signs, traffic lights, undone chores and even regrets. Add music’s power to conjure decades two bars … [Read more...]

Tagged With: long look

A letter in response to John MacArthur’s statement against social justice

by Leave a Comment

To my brother John MacArthur, You recently wrote a post warning the selling out of the gospel for social justice fad. Like Paul did in Galatians, you warn us about this “different gospel.” I tried to keep my mouth shut because I didn’t want to fan the fire your post ignited. But like the jackass whose tongue was loosened by an angel and saved Balaam, I (yes, I’m comparing myself to an ass) can’t keep my jaws clamped. Corrected, Balaam turned a curse into a blessing — so you aren’t beyond meta-noia/repentance. I’m going to take your same no-nonsense approach and warn you that you might be the false prophet, the one “bewitching” people to a “different gospel.” I’m not arguing here for any social justice commitment you call a threat to the gospel. I’m only pointing out the huge lumber in your eye. I know you can’t see it. I can’t see mine and you are eager to dislodge it from my eyes — and thank you for warning me against identification of any movement with God’s Kingdom and the … [Read more...]

Stories along the river: Meeting God in conversation at General Assembly

by Leave a Comment

Every morning at the 223rd General Assembly in St. Louis last week, I jogged to the silvery arch perched on the banks of the Mississippi River. From a distance, it looks like half of the McDonald’s arch, a city’s marketing ploy to reel in tourists. But when you stand under it to touch its steel skin, your eyes cannot take in the whole arch. Your neck arches back to its farthest point to take in its summit. It’s a massive parabola — 630 feet in both height and length. The arch casts its gleam on everything around it: the river, the sky, the city line. The arch becomes your perspective, not so much by framing your view as much as bending everything towards it. At the feet of the arch, you feel small and insignificant. And so it becomes a holy moment because a holy experience, after all, is when you remember how small you are. If aliens come and the steel arch is still standing, but no humans or Wikipedia pages exist to explain the history and function of the arch, I think they will … [Read more...]

Tagged With: GA223

CONTACT US: