Living as we're Dying

I have never been more aware of my own Hamlet complex than at the present. True, I've always known myself to be a rather indecisive chap, but lately I am vexed beyond all belief, straying into doubt concerning pursuits of this life. I have often been of the aesthetic mindset: namely, that meaning is found in beauty (and ultimate beauty is found in Christ, the firstborn of the New Man). I chose initially to pursue theological studies because I saw, at one point at least, a radiance emanating from the scriptures, particularly regarding theological truth. I still long to see and partake in the glorious movement of Yahweh, in history, as a part of the body of Christ. But is this something I study?

I believe that the truth of Christ extends into all realms. Literary metaphors, poetry, syllogisms, and dialectic can be put the task of conveying the truth that reflects the weighty words of scripture, can't they? Furthermore, our relationships, when centered in Christ, ought to be transformed into a life-pattern that invites others to behold a new creation.


The conundrum is that I love so many things that I find in this world. Masterfully written stories, the subtleties of well-crafted folk music, and time to sit with friends and settle into simple conversation let me know that I'm alive. Yet, even despite the occasional presence of such wonderful blessings this semester, I feel as if my studies have left me dry, cracked, and worst of all nonplussed and paralyzed. 


What do you do with a man who cannot find a foothold in the precipices of these matters?


My friends, I am left suspended in the hope of new creation and a resurrected mind that will face a reality devoid of death, with the time to think, sing, write, harmonize, and love as I ought.


You know me,
ὁ ξένος