I’ve heard some funny stories about nativity scenes lately. One about a baby Jesus that went missing years ago that caused a man to grow up thinking Christmas must be about farm animals. Another about a baby Jesus with a broken leg (he was dropped). The guilty was reminded of his crime every Christmas. “You made baby Jesus…
We are caves. Hidden. We don’t find these caves until a great crisis takes us there. I love caving. The gargantuan shapes. Foreboding depths. Cloying darkness. Pillars, patterns, crevasses. These underground passages have always called us. They were our original dwelling places (both the womb and the womb of humanity) and remain the place of initiation. The human…
