Echoes and Moments

He's not the Existentialist we deserve... A Manifesto on Belief I've thought about a helpful proposition to summarize the wisdom of the late-modern and postmodern thinkers. It follows: Humankind is subject to inescapable suffering, which deprives it of objective meaning. Human attempts to remedy suffering inevitably devolve into sectarian tribalism and competition for resources. Ultimately, humankind's existential condition cannot be changed, because it has only so much control over its circumstances as creatures. There is no evidence for any "supernatural" being, and the vast majority of God-talk upholds superstition at its most harmless best, and unspeakable atrocity at its brutal worst.  Humankind will only be free when liberated of belief: ideology and God are dictators when considered as objective. "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God." In choosing action, to lay down one's life for the sake of mercy, humanity wi...

It's not a coincidence she looks like an Elf princess... Considering the dirth of negative press, critical reviews, and general shade thrown at the DC Cinematic Universe since Henry Cavill groaned and yelled his way through Zack Snyder's overcooked Man of Steel in 2013, I was greatly pleased to see much in the way of positive feedback surrounding the franchise's latest offering, Wonder Woman. Since origins stories are necessarily difficult endeavors with regards to the source materials, fanbase of comic readers, and general public, I am always willing to cut slack to films that stick to the basics of all good filmmaking: character and narrative. While the superhero genre has saturated the screens for over a decade, I was reminded by a friend that before Robert Downey Jr. launched the Marvel Cinematic Universe into its current reign as a box-office juggernaut with Iron Man in 2008, the vast majority of regular joes/janes (myself included) were more familiar with the DC l...

Heaven in 2017. As the shards of my consciousness reform after the inevitable energy drain received in the aftermath of an intense five-day urban program (and the final project for my ministry with InterVarsity), the depth of my awareness for the wounds of young people returns. When the reactive depression recedes like a strong tide, and the wind stings my face beside a salty shore, and the connective tissue in my thoughts, emotions, and passions resume their normal furious pull -- there is another, deeper crisis in miniature, the point where my courage falters, a split-second where the absurdity overwhelms and paralyzes. In a talk I gave at the end of Day Three of the program, I described the work of French novelist and philosopher Albert Camus, who evolved from the same colonial European milieu that produced Derrida and dialogued with the great existentialists (whom he never enjoyed being lumped in with). He is famous for giving flesh to the concept of the Absurd, which in br...

I remember vividly the first time I spoke in the capacity of a preacher, unmediated by the role of worship leader, MC, or other function that was separated from the platform of public engagement from the "pulpit." In this case, it was a flimsy black music stand, standing near the aisle between unnecessary rows of black chairs set up in a room at Allan Hancock College, where I spent the first two years of my career as a campus minister. It was a warm night in April, free of the fog that normally cloaks coastal Santa Maria like a blanket, or the persistent winds that funnel from the sea into the inland valleys festooned with grapevines and fruit orchards. That year was one of radical reorientation to a new life out of college. I lost the dependable rhythm and purpose of a regimen of courses, for I had recently graduated from Cal Poly a few months before. I also lost the emotional support of a long romantic relationship, and was just feeling the stabbing pain and gut-twistin...

I wrote in a previous post on the abundance of high quality, richly textured music that we've been able to consume, to digest, to chew on, to sit with, to allow to mess with us over the last year. I still believe now, as I did at the end of last year, that we are in a new age of music, one where artists have the potential to go beyond the constraints of the medium of their chosen tools: sound and voice, to arbitrate culture and influence the conversations that shape our society. To reach the standards set by Kendrick Lamar, Beyoncé, and even (as divisive as he is) Kanye West, is to dialogue with the biggest questions of our existence: what is important? Why are we here? What makes us human? This last question concerns me as I survey the variety of music available for us to choose. As a form of art, music is inherently a description, sketch, and reflection of the humanity that creates it. You can see the ideas that my favorite band, Radiohead, wrestles with when they mov...

on Formation tour, 2016. I have a mildly embarrassing custom of talking in-depth with a friend about various cultural, socio-political, and theological topics over the worst food that our society has to offer: greasy fast food. This past week was more defendable than most, considering our chosen location for conversation, WingStop, prides itself on cooking everything fresh. But the amount of salt, fat, and grease that I consumed that night (and that found its way quickly through my defenseless digestive tract) was more than enough to make me think twice about my life choices. During this conversation, as I munched on a deep-fried chicken wing coated in lemon-juice glaze and pepper, my friend paused, looked intently into my eyes, and offered me a question with great severity: "Karl, I know you have thoughts on this. I just wanna know...why the hell should I care about Beyoncé and her twin babies?...because I just don't care!" I slid the last strip of meat from t...

Zdzisław Beksiński, 1981. Of all the things that I've longed to write about, this post's subject matter might be the most complicated and convoluted. Without knowing where the tangled threads of this identity will lead, I still find it critically important to unpack the implications of my heritage as a white man: both how I personally engage, understand, and value my white ethnic identities, as well as how the current political and social climate forces me to grapple and wrestle with this whiteness. It is a journey not without pain, but like all questions of identity, a deeply meaningful one. Each stream in my multivalent identity as a person of mixed ethnic backgrounds has developed in dramatically different ways, and at critically different points in my life. My Latinidad has stayed with me the longest, manifested as I was curious enough to critique the implicit racism I saw imbedded within the culture of my (mostly white) suburban school in Virginia and contrasted w...

Though the words of Jesus comfort many, his most potent ones summon dramatic imagery that deals frankly in life and death, even when his message is hidden behind the veil of parable. John tells us that Jesus says, "Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit (12:24)." Earlier in the historiography of Jesus Matthew tells us that he tells his disciples, " For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it (16:25)." As institutionalized in the rites of the Memorial Acclamation in the liturgical celebration of the Eucharist, we pray "When we eat this bread and drink this cup, we proclaim your death, O Lord, until you come again." In the latter days leading up to our celebration of Jesus' birth, we are inevitably reminded of his ultimate mission. He, the Human One, embraced death that we might be liberated from the suffering of si...