Archive
Author: Alasdair Renwick-Hale
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Declining Well Protects the Yes You Already Gave
I remember sitting in a small, dimly lit hospital chapel late one Tuesday, listening to a woman weep because she had finally reached the…
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Silence Is Not Always Absence
I remember sitting in a sterile, fluorescent-lit room in the oncology ward, listening to a man describe the specific, hollow ache of a request…
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Every Translation Makes Choices Someone Disagrees With
I remember sitting in a dimly lit hospital room years ago, holding a worn Greek New Testament and trying to explain a concept of…
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Cheap Books Changed Who Could Argue
We are often told a tidy, almost celebratory story about how the invention of the movable type machine democratized the world, as if the…
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Charity Treats Symptoms, Justice Asks Why
I remember sitting in a sterile hospital corridor at three in the morning, listening to a man weep because he had lost his home…
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The Willing Get Asked Until They Stop Being Willing
I remember sitting in a cramped, fluorescent-lit breakroom during my final years as a chaplain, watching a woman who had given everything to our…
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Individual Charity Does Not Address Structural Causes
I remember sitting in a cramped, fluorescent-lit consultation room during my third year as a chaplain, listening to a father explain how he’d lost…
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Authority Used for Others Is a Different Thing Entirely
I remember sitting in a sterile hospital waiting room late one Tuesday, listening to a young administrator explain how he was going to “transform…
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Understanding the Setting Before Judging the Rule
I remember sitting in a cramped hospital consultation room, the air smelling of antiseptic and stale coffee, listening to a man try to make…
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Forgiveness Is a Decision Repeated, Not a Feeling Achieved
I remember sitting in a sterile hospital room in the late nineties, the air thick with the smell of antiseptic and the low, rhythmic…