Cupitt took leave of an external God while continuing to search for a viable religion. I waded through a sea of doubt until I reached a different shore: God exists inwardly, as a personal reality formed through consciousness, experience and the human disposition towards goodness.
A reflection on why many spiritually curious people avoid the Bible, not because they have read it closely, but because Christianity itself has made it appear dead, authoritarian, or morally compromised. The piece argues that the Bible, especially the Gospels, remains a work of great psychological, poetic, and spiritual depth.
Jordan Peterson’s struggle with Christianity raises a wider question: do human beings live by truth, by happiness, or by the narratives that give life meaning? This reflection argues that stories can guide or mislead us, and that the deepest relief lies in finding the source of goodness within ourselves and following it.
A short reflection on the present moment as the place where life is actually lived. Drawing on the phrase “I am Alpha and Omega” and the recovery saying “Yesterday is history, tomorrow is mystery — just for today,” this piece considers God not as a remote idea, but as the living depth of now: the point at which memory, hope, responsibility, and freedom meet.
Prayer is often understood as asking for things, but in the Gospels it appears as something quite different. It is not a means of control, but a moment of release — a stepping back from the self and a return to what is real. In prayer, one lets go, sees more clearly, and, however briefly, is set in the right direction.
In an age of acceleration, it is easy to feel overwhelmed by civilisational fragility and ecological strain. Yet the decisive question may not be whether history declines, but whether individuals maintain their orientation toward reverence and responsibility. Even small acts of care — leaving a place better than we found it — become expressions of fidelity in a high-energy world.
John Betjeman’s Summoned by Bells is more than an autobiography in verse — it is a meditation on beauty, memory, and faith at the twilight of English modernity. Beneath its gentle rhythms lies a profound moral vision: that sound, place, and craftsmanship can still unite a fractured nation. Betjeman’s England is not nostalgic fantasy but a living cathedral of meaning, where stone and song meet the sacred.
A study of Waugh’s estrangement, his critique of modernity, and his uneasy kinship with Orwell — two men who saw the decay of English order from opposite moral poles.