I have two posts published in Provoketive magazine and wanted to share them with you lovelies today.
When we heard the news that vaunted Penn State, and Saint Joe Paterno (aka JoePa) had a disturbing skeleton in its closet that spanned years and subjected 10 year old boys to unspeakable crimes, the nation gasped, the echoes of which are still being heard. As we struggle to understand how something like this could have happened, how grown men could act with such abhorrence, we watch the cult crumble. The Ohio State scandal regarding tattoos for memorabilia seems positively quaint when parked next to the grim scene in Happy Valley. Oregon Ducks playing fast and loose with payments to a shady “scout?” Small potatoes.
Is anyone surprised anymore? I want to say, “No. Nothing surprises me.” The cult of PSU is under the umbrella of the cult of college sports, specifically college football, a huge money maker for institutions. Players seem like nothing more than prostitutes putting out for the pimps in power, who sit in their proverbial ivory towers counting the cash pouring in.
From Lexicons of Faith
Hear me. I have no problem with these words or with people who use these words. What I’m saying is when I said them, it felt like I was trying to adopt Chinese as my first language and mangling it all to bits. Instead of asking for rice and carrots, I was asking for to please flush with the elephants.
It’s not disbelief or even doubt; I just don’t feel comfortable with that particular kind of language. I tried. It sounded forced. For a long time, I figured I just needed practice. If I kept using the words, they would become like other words; just a part of how I speak. Didn’t happen. I never grew comfortable with talking about coming to Jesus or describing the ways the Lord had done marvelous things for me. I have a story, and he has done wonders. I just cast about for another way to describe it.