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Hey Church, Stop Sad-Shaming Me

150 150 Jason Ramsey

I recently heard a sermon about ‘how to avoid contentment’. It was part of an otherwise-enlightening series about ‘how to mess up’ in life. In it, the pastor, who I…

Why The Christian Right Is Wrong

150 150 Jason Ramsey

Welcome to 2017 America, where the melting pot on which it was founded burns blood black and boils over with vitriol. When James Madison, a controversially devout Episcopalian, drafted the…

The Color Of Fog

150 150 Jason Ramsey

Disclaimer: Contains mature themes.   “You’re old enough to be my father.” Edward Cain slugged a whiskey shot and set the glass on a nightstand, and it wobbled like a…

These Barren Fields

150 150 Jason Ramsey

These barren fields, wolf-grey coats of bark and dust, coarse lines bleeding trails, idle in stillness, parsed, perched, widows of breath, brittle as ash in wind sit slack-jawed, cold, hinterlands of impervious…

150 150 Jason Ramsey

Hey Church, Stop Sad-Shaming Me

I recently heard a sermon about ‘how to avoid contentment’. It was part of an otherwise-enlightening series about ‘how to mess up’ in life. In…

150 150 Jason Ramsey

Why The Christian Right Is Wrong

Welcome to 2017 America, where the melting pot on which it was founded burns blood black and boils over with vitriol. When James Madison, a…

150 150 Jason Ramsey

The Color Of Fog

Disclaimer: Contains mature themes.   “You’re old enough to be my father.” Edward Cain slugged a whiskey shot and set the glass on a nightstand,…

150 150 Jason Ramsey

These Barren Fields

These barren fields, wolf-grey coats of bark and dust, coarse lines bleeding trails, idle in stillness, parsed, perched, widows of breath, brittle as ash in wind…

150 150 Jason Ramsey

Chains Beneath The Fray

Blackwater rinses marrow from bone, skeletons wash ashore: backbones, ribcages, rubber cartilage calcified with salt, jellied with flesh, imprinted on wet sand — carrion for…

150 150 Jason Ramsey

Do Not Grieve For American Christianity

Do you hear that? It’s a thunderclap of emotion, a seismic reverberation of anger and sadness that beats like a holy staff on sacred ground.…

150 150 Jason Ramsey

There Is No Sledgehammer God

There is no sledgehammer God — every rational being knows that. We can appropriate certain things to the Divine; we can justify answered prayer. In…

150 150 Jason Ramsey

The Mercy Of Speckled Stars

Memories are like stars speckled across the night sky. Rarely linear in form, they’re merely loosely connected dots in the synapses of the brain. They…

150 150 Jason Ramsey

Fractal

This is the point where trying to hold things together for everyone else makes me fall apart. Fractal. It’s not supposed to be like this.…

150 150 Jason Ramsey

A Repentance

Repentance. Waning appetite of faith-junctions betrothed. Relaxing, embracing tapestries lost. Misplaced versions of stark archetypes, leaning, beleaguering, vacating thin veils of guilt-shed sin on vandalized walls. We wait. Fake. Deface. Glorified perversions of angst-ridden blame, an upheaval of martyrdom placating grace. We wait like frost-white dalliances of hate. Forgiveness. Mirrored truths of disingenuous praise. Succumbing, shedding insidious skin. Forlorn ashes of dead souls, simmering, frothing, bequeathing tastes of half-sighed lies on brittle-dry lips. We drink. Sink. Relinquish. An artifact of fate belaboring grace. We claw like wolf-thieves approaching the gate. Acceptance. Repenting diatribes of angelic malaise. Atoning, dethroning serpentine reign. Heralded saints of banished restraint,…

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