Archive
Author: Alasdair Renwick-Hale
-
Decide the Proportion Once, Not Every Time
I remember sitting in a dim hospital corridor in the late nineties, the air thick with the sterile, metallic scent of antiseptic and old…
-
Etymology Is History, Not Definition
I remember sitting in a dimly lit hospital room about fifteen years ago, listening to a young man try to explain his grief through…
-
A Word Means What It Means in That Sentence
I remember sitting in the small, dim library of a parish house late one Tuesday, surrounded by the scent of old paper and damp…
-
Stewardship Includes What You Will Not See
I remember sitting in a small, drafty hospital chapel years ago, watching a young man struggle with the sheer weight of a world that…
-
Programmes Built Around Families Exclude by Default
I remember sitting in a small, drafty parish hall years ago, watching a “community integration” workshop unfold. The facilitator was speaking in those bright,…
-
Criticism Produced Better Arguments on Both Sides
I remember sitting in a sterile hospital room late one Tuesday night, listening to a man try to make sense of a terminal diagnosis…
-
Hospitality Is Ordinary Food and Undivided Attention
I remember sitting in a cramped, fluorescent-lit hospital waiting room thirty years ago, watching a well-meaning volunteer attempt to “provide comfort” by offering a…
-
Read the Passage Twice Before the Commentary Once
I remember sitting in a cramped, dimly lit hospital library late one Tuesday, surrounded by heavy, leather-bound volumes that promised to explain every nuance…
-
Technically True Is a Category of Deception
I remember sitting in a sterile hospital waiting room many years ago, watching a man stare blankly at a glossy magazine spread. The advertisement…
-
A Plan Removes the Daily Question of Where to Start
I remember sitting in the hospital chapel during a particularly heavy winter, watching a young man stare at a thick theological tome as if…