I’ve always had something of an ambivalent attitude towards John Updike. I’ve known his work for ages – he grew up in Shillington, PA, just a stone’s throw or so from where I grew up. He was raised a Lutheran, an upbringing that he seemed to struggle with as well as be marked by. I’ve loved his short stories as much as anything I’ve ever read, but sometimes been less than taken by even his celebrated novels. I don’t know why – perhaps they were too “earthy” for this kid. But it’s precisely the “earthiness” of “Seven Stanzas at Easter” that I love about...

Given this Sunday’s Gospel reading from John 2, where Jesus makes manifest that God will no longer be contained in the Temple but is now, in Jesus, on the loose, I thought Christian Wiman’s poem Every Riven Thing was appropriate. But this isn’t simply a tribute to the God present in nature; it is testimony to the God who appears in brokeness. As Wiman says in an interview with Radio Open Source: Riven means broken, it means shattered or wounded or unhealed, and I think that notion is very important to me and my notion of God and of religion: that we are broken creatures, very broken creatures. And I don’t think of God as...