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Tamed Cynic

Newsletter (Digital)
Ever since conscripted church attendance led to a surprising and converting encounter with the Risen Christ, Jesus has gleefully afflicted me with the right kind of nightmares and continues to tame my stubborn cynicism. Or should I say, Jesus is giving me different things about which to be cynical. After all, if Jesus is Lord and his grace without any ifs ands or buts, meanwhile the world knows it not, then my friend Stan the Man is dead-on right. Just about everything else is bullshit. This is a space where I attempt to sort out all that chaff from the wheat. I write and reflect on matters that matter, and nothing matters more to me than the improbable promise of God’s unconditional pardon, grace not for the good but for the ungodly. I try to write with the good humor, winsome cynicism, and no-BS hopefulness that befits a life of faith in a world that insists on acting as though Jesus is dead. I’m an irreverent reverend with one wife and one congregation. Only one of them deserves someone like me. I have two sons. I’m the author of a few books. I host a podcast (we’re a big deal), and I have incurable cancer, which means I’m as terminal as you, dear reader. Also, I like pickles. As an Enneagram 8, I have no shortage of opinions or scarcity of words with which to express them. This explains why I’ve been blogging for a decade and decided to move that discipline over to this space. It also accounts for why sarcasm is my love language. Source

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