• Hello, old friends. I feel a little shy jumping straight back into the jollity of the Rabbit Room after such a long absence, but I’ve missed this place too much to delay any longer.

    I think my posts here d […]

    • I can’t help but picture a traveler returning home to the Shire to find the lights on. 🙂 This is beautifully written, and your sincerity reached me in a difficult year. Glad to have you back!

    • I didn’t expect to love this post when I opened it, but boy, did I. I didn’t know the meaning of “theodicy” either – if I encountered it in the wild it was one of those things that wasn’t worth looking up. So I thought: now I see it’s just that thing that has gripped my imagination too, and occupied more and more of my mind the last several years. Keen to read more of your explorations as you share them.

    • Ah!! There is such life in your words. I too, have come to find life and life abundant in the creativity of the Rabbit Room Community. Thank you, Sarah, for sharing your profound thoughts and the rich imagery of your encounters with beauty and light!!

  • The more I study this image, the more I find. The whole of creation is caught up in this presentation of the Cross as the cosmic renewal of life, love, and fellowship. I especially love the detail of chickens and […]

    • Amazing. Thank you, Sarah! This may be so obvious to everyone else, but I had never thought of the Tree of Life in Revelation as the cross. Mind blown. “…and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.” (Revelation 22:2)

    • Aaaaah! I am geeking out over here. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Sarah, for researching this and sharing it. I am just blown away at this answer to my dilemma over the redemptive analogy in my story. It’s a tree. Seriously. And one of my favorite lines so far is this one: “The whole world seemed to revolve around that tree.” I guess the Venerable Bede was hanging out in my subconscious from my studies in college. 🙂 I’m so encouraged!

    • I have never thought about the significance of the tree…Jesus as a Carpenter…and the cross. It’s all such and amazing story with new revelations everyday. Thank you for sharing.

    • I have never thought about the significance of the tree…Jesus as a Carpenter…and the cross. It’s all such and amazing story with new revelations everyday. Thank you for sharing.

  • Well friends, I’m about to go all academic on you – or at least as academic as art, story, song obsessed me can get – by giving you a taste of what I’ve been working on in the past couple of years. I yearn to writ […]

    • Thank you, Sarah! I read Begbie’s Voicing Creation’s Praise a few years back, along with our friend Steve Guthrie’s Creator Spirit, and was humbled and fascinated by how deeply one can think about art and theology. The pool turns out to be an ocean, which turns out to have a Mariana trench. Thank you for distilling what you’re learning and pushing our brains in good directions. Can’t wait for the next part.

  • A little over a week ago, my brother Joel and I forayed out into the darkling streets of nine o’clock London to catch a late concert at Royal Albert Hall.

    We wanted to stave off the end-of-trip rue […]

  • I’ve come to write today in a downtown coffee shop where books line the walls and the air hums with slow, jazzy music. I haven’t accomplished a single useful thing. Instead, I’ve cupped my coffee close, sipped it […]

  • The wind was bright and sharp, the blue sky cold, our skin reddened with the icy air, but we didn’t mind. The day of the C. S. Lewis symposium at Westminster, we Lewis lovers got to the doors of St. Margaret’s alm […]

  • The celebration of Advent, I have decided, is a little like living in the twilight zone.

    I know this because for a few uncanny hours last week, I actually lived the twilight zone and it was a curiously […]

  • “Come, let us worship God, wonderful in his saints!”

    So ended Michael Ward’s introduction in our program today for the C.S. Lewis memorial service. And that is exactly what we did. I read those words as I sat i […]

  • I believe there is a room at center of my being. Large, light brimmed, and quiet. Windows make its walls, and through them I gaze upon skies and stars only visible to my inner eye. When my soul dwells there, I am […]

  • I’m reading straight through the Gospel of John early in the morning these days. It’s my second time this summer. I finished it once, paged right back to the start and savored the opening again: in the be […]

  • …wouldn’t you want to?

    I certainly would.

    He may have died long before I was born, but his books came to me like letters from a kind and witty and child-hearted godfather. Narnia companioned my childhood. […]

  • Well, it’s time. High time. I’ve been hoarding a literary treasure for far too long. I did tell a few good souls about this gem of a writer at Hutchmoot, but really, the whole world needs to know and its time I […]

  • My St. Patrick’s day celebration was impromptu. I love all things Irish and think St. Patrick himself the hero indeed, but the great day  found me mired in about a thousand unanswered emails. I got home from ch […]

  • The spice of it caught their notice first. As they entered the chapel for the Christmas Eve service, they lifted their noses to scent the air like a pack of curious hounds. The dim place was fragrant with the […]

  • His breath made a rope of mist in the icy air. Like a dancer, it whirled and climbed toward the brightening sky as Father Jonas turned two merry little twirls beneath it. His old bones were stiff in the bitter […]

  • For a child reared in the back alleys and knotted lanes of East London, to slip unnoticed out a window as dawn breathed blue beneath the stars was easy as taking a breath. The man and woman in the next room did […]

  • Father Eric knelt to pray in the college chapel just before Evensong a few days before Christmas. The long, high dark of the church leapt away behind him, a dusk he used to love for the star-like glimmer of the […]

  • Elbows on the stainless steel kitchen counter at a recent weekend retreat, I listened enrapt to a high school violinist describe his experience of music. With the waving arms and burning eyes of a poet or madman, […]

  • I write this from a seat in the waiting area of Heathrow Airport. My flight is delayed. I find it best to take these things sitting down, with a cup of coffee, and some means of writing. Pret-A-Manget supplied a […]

  • Dark is thick, and I am weary as the frayed last light dying out beyond the trees. The mud and cold stick to my boots and my sigh etches a frozen circle on the air. The river path I walk home at night in Oxford is […]

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