I'm a Christian, but probably not the kind you're thinking of.

Too often, Christianity is associated with judgmentalism, magical thinking, moralism, and stale traditions. My spirituality isn't about any of that.

It's not heaven-focused or sin-obsessed. I don't believe in simplistic, Santa-like versions of God, or the idea that anyone had to die for me to be whole.

My Christianity is about humility, not superiority. It's a call to love and serve, not judge. It's about compassion, kindness, and human dignity—a path of meaning, not magic.

I follow a Jesus who cared about people flourishing, especially the lowly and the marginalized, and creating a world based on love.

My style of Christianity prioritizes simplicity. Big-box churches, baroque cathedrals, rosaries, praise bands, cloying Marian devotion, charismatic gifts, and Latin Masses don't resonate. I also find the influence of Evangelical theology on Christian thought deeply troubling. The biblical idolatry, legalism, and fundamentalism it has unleashed are repugnant.

Instead, I strive for spiritual realism, focusing on love and simplicity. My touchstones are silence, meditation, love of neighbor, and simple rituals.

I’m comfortable in ecumenical settings and believe that we all must imagine new forms of Christian communities that are organic, authentic, and not institutional.

I’m a liminal Catholic

The word liminal originates from the Latin word limen, meaning threshold. It refers to doorways and entrances, boundaries and blurred lines, and spaces in between.

The Irish concept of a thin place is similar. Thin places are entries and exits, blended spaces with spiritual meaning, where one reality starts and another ends.

Like a shoreline between sand and sea, a liminal Catholic spiritual path is a space between traditional and nontraditional practices and thinking. It is a space between interpretations and standard customs and stances.

This means I find meaning on Catholic shores, but with one foot in the sand of tradition and one foot in the waters of a Catholicism yet to be.

My spirituality and religious thinking are liminal, weaving together Catholic and Celtic Christian elements, ideas, and stances.

I engage from the margins. I don’t pretend to speak for others or the Church.

I affirm a Christianity shaped by the following convictions:

1. That following the path of the teacher Jesus can lead to healing and wholeness, a mystical connection to “God,” as well as an awareness and experience of not only the Sacred, but the Oneness and Unity of all life;

2. That the teachings of Jesus provide but one of many ways to experience “God,” the Sacredness, Oneness and Unity of life, and that we can draw from diverse sources of wisdom, including Earth, in our spiritual journey.

3. Creating community that is inclusive of all people of good will.

4. That the way we behave towards one another is the fullest expression of what we believe.

5. Find value in the search for understanding and believe there is more value in questioning with an open mind and open heart, than in limited dogma.

6. Work toward peace and justice among all people and all life on Earth.

7. Protect and restore the integrity of our Earth and all of Creation.

8. Commit to a path of life-long learning, compassion, and selfless love on this journey toward a personally authentic and meaningful life.

(Adapted from the Center for Progressive Christianity)

Fundamentally influenced by Celtic Christianity, my spiritual practice is intentionally simple and revolves around the following.

• Mindfulness & Contemplation - I seek to be fully present in the moment, focused on the now, and not scattered in thought, intention, and actions. My prayer life is a blend of silence, contemplation, and reflection.

• Simplicity - I practice voluntary simplicity and seek to maintain an uncluttered home, schedule, emotional, and spiritual life. In a culture of excess, speed, and needless complexity, less is more.

• Simple Rituals - lighting a candle to welcome the sabbath, daily reading of the Gospels, and attending weekly Mass.

• Celebrating the Seasons - my Celtic influences have instilled an appreciation of the sacramentality of nature and the unfolding of the seasons. I find meaning in nature’s rhythms and cycles. I celebrate the Celtic festivals as well as observing the Christian liturgical calendar.

• Hospitality & Availability - I strive to keep an open mind, heart, door, table, and hand. We need others to thrive and live meaningful lives. Authentic connections require a soil rich in hospitality and availability, intentionally carving out space for others in our lives.

• Ideas and Discussions - I enjoy gathering people together to discuss ideas, theology, culture, and spirituality. I find benefits in reading and writing it.

Catholicism has substantially shaped my Christianity, at least initially. My understanding of human dignity, much of my social philosophy, and my appreciation of philosophical theology are all deeply rooted in Catholic tradition.

Another central influence is Celtic culture and spirituality. Living in Ireland for several years prompted extensive study and immersion into Celtic values and practices.

Given the above, the following academic areas have also been significant influences on my spirituality and theological thinking:

Catholic Personalism, particularly through the lens of Gabriel Marcel, Pope John Paul II, John F. Crosby, and Christian Smith, underscores the dignity and inherent value of each person and calls for that dignity to be consistently affirmed.

Historical Jesus Scholarship enriches my understanding of Jesus’ life and teachings. Scholars such as John Dominic Crossan, John P. Meier, and Stephen Patterson provide historical context, grounding my theology in the real, human Jesus, whose ministry informs my commitment to compassion, mercy, and justice.

Celtic Christianity has profoundly shaped my spirituality, and I share the Celtic sense of sacramentality in nature and the value of simple rituals. I also value hospitality and availability, two strong Celtic values. Simplicity and silence are core aspects of Celtic spirituality.

The Nouvelle Théologie has enriched my thinking, particularly through the works of De Lubac, Von Balthasar, Schillebeeckx, Congar, Dulles, John Paul II, and the documents of the Second Vatican Council.

Catholic Social Thought informs my social and political views, relying on the modern social encyclicals and social documents of Vatican II. In this same area, the contributions of Radical Orthodoxy also play a significant role.

Ecumenical, Post-Denominational Ecclesiology broadens my vision of Christian community beyond denominational and institutional boundaries. As institutional forms of Christianity decline and fade, new forms of organic spiritual community must arise.

Who hasn’t encountered Christians who presume to tell others exactly what true Christianity teaches and then require obedience to and conformity with such?

Such attitudes tend to be accompanied by efforts to exclude and harass those who don’t align with the perceived correct theology or set of practices.

The problem with those who make up the theology police is that they are often fixated on limited explanations of mysteries. There is a fetishization of certain teachings, thinkers, particular periods of church history, styles of worship, and manners of explication.

Reading a few magazine articles and occasionally picking up the Bible or a theology book does not make one a theologian.

Exclusion, rejection, and a lack of charity are not a Christian response to those with whom we disagree.

I don’t begrudge anyone expressing their style of Christianity or spirituality, but I resist anyone claiming their style to be required and attempting to thrust it onto others.

Those who position themselves as the enforcers of religious and spiritual purity would do well to revisit the gospels. In the narratives, their counterparts are not the beloved disciples but the Pharisees.

Moral legalism, often mistaken for fidelity to truth, distorts truth and love.

Legalism is defined as overemphasizing conformity to rules at the expense of context or compassion. It reduces moral truth to a sterile code and love to mere compliance.

Legalism is neither truth’s fullness nor love’s transformative power—it’s simply a hollow rigor. Mercy, by contrast, holds truth and love together, neither relativistically lax nor legalistically cruel. It judges sin but redeems sinners —a balance that legalism cannot strike.

Truth and love, thus inseparable, frame mercy as their synthesis. Truth without love ossifies; love without truth drifts. Together, they ensure that mercy upholds reality while extending grace —a balance that relativism cannot claim.

Mercy, then, is an aspect of truth’s telos—its end and perfection. It neither bends reality nor bows to whim but crowns truth with grace, fulfilling its promise of life (John 10:10).

I invite you to explore the theology presented in the other navigation sections of this site.

These ideas are still evolving, and I don’t claim to have all the answers.

You don’t need to agree with me; I hope we can find common ground, engage in dialogue with one another, and learn from each other.

Join me in this ongoing conversation, and let’s see where these evolving ideas take us together.