Seth Haines's Blog, page 19
June 14, 2018
Observation #4: Pray for Peace, Worship War
On vacation, we passed through Webb City Missouri, a quaint little midwestern town. In the middle of town, up a large hill, was a mutli-ton statue of hands folded in prayer. On the pedestal under those hands were the words, “Hands in prayer, world in peace.” It was a nice sentiment, even if only a platitude.
Down the hill, just under those hands was an American Howitzer surrounded by flags. Surrounded by pomp and circumstance. Surrounded by flowers. Surrounded by tokens of American worship. ...
June 13, 2018
Observation #3: The Broken Ladder
Climb the ladder, some say.
Take it to the top.
This is the American Dream.
After thirty-some-odd years of climbing, I quit. I sent a letter of resignation to the keepers of that ladder, told them things seemed a bit rickety and I’d like to go build my own ladder from more solid wood. On the other side, I noted the men who’ve climbed that ladder of the American Dream: political strongmen like President Trump; charlatans like Paige Patterson; corporate schemers like [fill in the blank with any...
June 12, 2018
Observation #2: Digital Rain
The songbirds sing lonelier songs. The brooks babble to nobody. If the tree falls in the actual-factual forest and there’s no one there to Instagram it, does it make a sound?
Yesterday, I was listening to the music of Johann Johannson (whose parents must have had a sense of humor) while I scrolled social media. In his song “Theme,” Jo-Jo sampled the sounds of seagulls at the beach, rain on the water, thunder, a choir. I was almost moved to tears by my forgetfulness of the music of the natural...
June 11, 2018
Observation #1 (On Suicide)
When a man commits suicide–a known man to be specific–other men will use his death to make some sort of point. You don’t have to suffer alone or Know that you’re seen or It’s never to late to call this particular hotline or reach out to that particular therapist. These sorts of sentiments (normally written in 280 characters or less) are meant to be compassionate, but beneath those words, isn’t there a tarry layer of judgment? What are they but sticky ways of saying He chose to suffer alone or...
April 18, 2018
Poetry and Various Other Sundries
This weekend, I attended the Festival of Faith and Writing at Calvin College, and I had the opportunity to share a few conversations with some of my favorite living poets. I shared breakfast with Scott Cairns (yes, I imposed) and met Jeanne Murray Walker at the airport. I also met a new friend, Phillip Mauer, whose poems you’ll not find on the internet just yet. (One day, Phillip.) The conversations we shared were brief (too brief), but I walked away with the firm conviction that the world ne...
April 4, 2018
Time Swimmers
Time lost.
I sent out a Tiny Letter (my bimonthly newsletter) this week exploring the notion that Easter was about more than simple resurrection. Easter was about more than empty tombs and manic disciples searching for a body. Easter is a more eternal declaration. It’s the declaration that time is a failure, that it bends to something more eternal. And if time is a failure, there is no such thing as a dead end.
These are the things I believe most. And yet, there’s still a harsh human reality:...
February 22, 2018
February 19, 2018
A Monday Morning Confession
It’s the first Monday of Lent, and I’m offering this short confession. To learn “How to Lent and Why,” check out my Tiny Letter.
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“When did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?
He will answer them… what you did not do for one of the least of these you did not do for me.”
~Matthew 25:31-46, Daily reading for the first Monday of Lent (February 19 2018)
This is my confession:
I drive smooth streets in an upper-middle class...
February 6, 2018
How to Lent and Why
Every year, automatic as a clock, my grandfather would call just after sunup.
“He is risen!”
We all knew the drill. If you were on the other end of the line, there was only one acceptable response.
“He is risen indeed!”
It was my family’s singular Easter tradition, unless shopping for a pastel-colored Polo shirt passes for tradition, in which case I participated in two. But aside from the pastel pageantry and the Easter-morning phone call, there were no real practices of reflection, repentanc...
January 3, 2018
Resisting the Politics, Exploring the Beauty
This is how a new year comes: there is an anticipation, a countdown, the building tension in the room, a Happy New Year!, a kiss. It’s predictable if nothing else, maybe even cliché.
If cliché is the vehicle that carries us into the new year, it’s the alarm clock that jolts us out of bed the next morning, too. In our first real waking hours, those sleep-deprived hours of regret on January 1st (Why did I stay up till 2:00?) we turn to new clichés. And the January 1st cliché we love the most?
T...
