Tag Archives: Mystical

BOOKS: “Christianity: A Very Short Introduction” by Linda Woodhead

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Christianity: A Very Short IntroductionChristianity: A Very Short Introduction by Linda Woodhead
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Publisher’s Page OUP

The central idea of this book is that (despite all the complexity of schisms, sects, and subsects) the various entities that call themselves Christian can be put into one of three categories: church, biblical, or mystical. These groups reflect where the adherents see the ultimate source of authority. Church Christians, exemplified by Roman Catholics, view the hierarchy of clergy as the ultimate authority. Biblical Christians, e.g. Baptists, see the Bible as the highest authority. Finally, mystics see the individual’s relationship with (or connection to or oneness with) God to be what matters.

Bookending elaboration upon those three forms of Christianity, there is an opening that discusses early development of the Christian religion and the dividing lines that characterized it (e.g. whether Jesus was man, god, or a bit of both,) and there is a closing chapter about modern Christianity that explores various modern movements, such as: liberal Christianity, Evangelicalism, Fundamentalism, and charismatic Christianity.

If you’re interested in understanding the various permutations of Christianity (past and present,) and how they developed and differentiated themselves, this is a fine introduction to the subject.

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My Soul Runs Cold [Lyric Poem]

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My soul runs cold, and I
   Fear it might be dying.
 It rises into the sky --
   Horrifyingly flying.

How'd it achieve liftoff,
   And race to such a pace?
 It started to just drift off...
   Now: the cold vacuum of space.

Dare I hope for a snap back
   When it reaches tether-end?
 Or intergalactic bushwhack,
   Stumbling lost with no descent.

Maybe, it'll sprawl on forever
   To the universe's edge.
 I might not be so clever,
   But I'll be a universe full-fledged.

POEM: Mystical River Moment [PoMo – Day #2: Shakespearean Sonnet]

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The burbling sounds did clarify my mind.
Somehow, the flowing stream was one with me,
and sitting down just at the riverbend,
I felt more flowing rhythm than I could see.

Some part of me was whisked in search of sea,
though my body sat at the muddy edge.
I know not how a part of me could flee --
just pure potential, being on a ledge.

I lost the river like one loses blood.
It's there, but [unseen] becomes all and none.
Each is swept along swiftly by a scud,
but seem so still when you and it are one.

The mystic moment comes then flits away,
and I am left with nothing fine to say.