A New Direction

R.E.M. released Lifes Rich Pageant in the summer of 1986. The band’s fourth album featured songs such as “I Believe,” “Fall on Me,” and my personal favorite, “Begin the Begin.” According to Peter Hogan’s The Complete Guide to the Music of R.E.M. (1995), the song’s title is a pun on Cole Porter’s “Begin the Beguine” (p. 32). In his book he quotes the band’s lead singer Michael Stipe calling the song “a song of personal and political activism” (as cited in Hogan, 1995, p. 109). It inspired the spirit of this posting. As the chorus goes, “Let’s begin again...”

I started A Dim Mirror in 2022, under a pen name inspired by a close friend of mine. At the time, I wanted ADM to be a playground for my ideas about my faith and serve as a devotional for a close set of friends. Later on, I felt the need to remove the mask of the pen name and start posting on a weekly cadence. The framework for each post was patterned on the Book of Common Prayer calendar for daily office reflections. I enjoyed this rhythm and liturgy for a season.

There is a story told in the Gospels about a prophet. A man living in the wilderness, on the edges of culture, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. He spent his days down by the Jordan River baptizing those who came to hear his teachings. His name was John the Baptist. I tend to identify myself with the role of John the Baptist. Not because he was a prophet, but because of the function his actions served in the Gospels. In the first chapter of John’s Gospel, while down by the Jordan River, Jesus approached him. As he approached, I can imagine John pointing as he said, “Look! Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29). John did not claim anything for himself, but “called out from the wilderness,” paving the way and saying, “Look!” All my life I have felt like the mortar between the bricks. A connection for the dots and patterns observed, stepping back to see a broader picture. A desire to show people not what I know, but what they can see with their own eyes if just oriented in the right direction. To look in the hidden places and find something inspiring, unifying, or useful. With ADM I want to say, “Look! See that!” Ponder it and embrace a sense of wonder with your own eyes.

To quote the R.E.M. song once more,

“Answer me a question, I can’t itemize, I can’t think clear
You look to me for reason, it’s not there
I can’t even rhyme in the begin” (R.E.M., 1986)

Writing has always has allowed me the space to think more clearly, even if at times I feel my prose is not. I want ADM to inspire awe and be anchored in the core of 1 Corinthians 13. The dim mirror referenced is that of divine wisdom that reflects back at us. Our reflection is not yet made whole, but works to shine the lens through which we see everything. A wisdom that is much wider than a weekly devotional can even attempt to capture. As time went on, I felt limited by the structure I created. Life events also began to clamor for my attention. As many close friends know, my wife and I had our second daughter this past October. During the pregnancy, I was able to step back from writing only devotionals and create space to expand my writing in private.

This space allowed me to move past the duality in thinking that my writing had to be strictly about matters of faith. Also, I slowly began holding in tension that God is not found in the structures I create for God. Seeing my daughter gaze into our Christmas tree lights reminded me why I love writing in the first place. I want to delight in awe and wonder. To be the observer saying, “Look at this.”

A Dim Mirror, going forward, is still about the dim mirror we see life through. The writer of Ecclesiastes puts it another way: life is hevel, meaning mist or vapor. Smoke is beautiful and mysterious to observe. Though it appears solid, if we reach out to grasp it, it just slips through our fingers. I want to capture this essence in writing for ADM. To see the beauty in life and embrace its mysteries. In order to do so, I will be expanding the newsletter’s horizons. Many topics will still be derived from faith and contemplation; however, I feel the need to also explore philosophy, literature, and culture. Weaving these into my writing allows for posts covering book reviews, thought experiments, and current events while still applying a personal touch.

I will still publish only once a week, so as not to clutter your inbox. While monetary support is appreciated, all posts will be free to read, as always. I do plan on opening other methods for supporting the platform outside of Substack’s recurring subscriber model. So please check out the new Support page if you are interested in supporting this newsletter.

Thank you to those of you who were there in the beginning, when I didn’t have the courage to get started on my own. All masks are off now; the only way through is pressing forward.

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