A favorite verse in Isaiah reads: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8–9). We usually read…

There exists in the church a small portion of believers who are manifestly unable to see any distinction between the will of God and the practices of the institution. For this fraction of church membership, any policy or initiative, or any teaching by a high-ranking church official, is received as…

Flying Saucers and Edible Religion — The Book of Ezekiel opens with one of the weirder moments of the Old Testament (an impressive accomplishment, given the competition). The prophet is swept up in a whirlwind and a massive cloud of fire, out of which emerge four alien creatures, which have “the likeness of a man.” Except…

Homosexuality in a Heterosexual Heaven — If you want to understand my church’s opposition to same-sex marriage, you need to start with a clear picture of how Latter-day Saints think about sexual orientation itself. “Same-sex attraction,” in the Mormon view, is a temporary, mortal experience — a trial to be endured or, in its previous iteration…

In memoriam: Gil Fairholm, 1932–2021 — My grandfather worked with wood. The musty oak smell of his old Virginia home lingers in my memory like a ghost. Open the rickety side door, and a puff of sawdust greets you as you pass by the woodshop and up the creaky steps toward the kitchen. The old shop…

the glory of god is intelligence or in other words light and truth glimmering speckles in rocky terrain a shovel lodged knee-deep in cool soggy earth, its treasures sifted and polished and lovingly laid to rest in the pitch-dark chasms of a hat and then allowed to glow so it’s…

Finding out God. And finding out that I’m gay. — I first felt God in the textures of my childhood, nestled somewhere in the tough tweed upholstery of pale blue chapel pews, in the scratchy burlap lining the halls, and in the soft family room rug where we knelt in prayer every night. I felt Him in the cold, unforgiving…

Faith, fire, and the art of princess-killing — Cinderella is on fire. Her platinum hair melts away in thick, waxy puddles. To be honest, there’s something kind of mesmerizing about it — jarring, sure, but oddly captivating. Kind of like how you can’t look away from a nasty car wreck even though you know you probably should. Her…