"We tell ourselves stories," Joan Didion said, "in order to live." Human beings are not only embodied creatures; we are enstoried ones, too. The stories we remember and retell shape who we are at the most foundational level.

One of the amazing things about light is its ability to encode information. If Jesus is the light of the world, what information does His incarnation carry for us?

Jesus brings light to the world—and teaches us to see anew.

In John's Gospel, Jesus is the light of world, illuminating all things and bringing life. Throughout the season of Advent, we're reflecting on love's pure light.

Most people would define the good life as a happy life, yet many of us struggle to experience happiness. Maybe we can learn from the ancient wisdom of Christian practices of gratitude.

All of want things. But where do those desires come from? And what do we do with wants we don't want to have?

In urban design and landscape engineering, planners have to contend with a well-known aspect of human nature: people tend to go where they want and how they want. This leads to a phenomenon known as a “desire path,” where people remake the landscape by walking over it. So what should designers do? Plan a careful route, or accommodate people’s desires? The same tension holds true in Christian faith: we tend to orient our lives around what we want. If the Psalmist is correct, God desires to give us what we want—but only as we learn to recognize the God-centered nature of all desire.

In order to provide care, people have to recognize and guard against the pathogens we might encounter. Right now, our body politic seems to be infected with contempt. We all need some personal protective equipment.