Capital T truth is dead.

Christmas is the Disneyfication of Christianity.

To love is to be vulnerable: if God loves, then God is mortal.

I am suggesting that we can and do regain eternity when we are so immersed in life, in moral action, or in aesthetic contemplation, that we completely forget about time and anxiety.

Remember that the past fifty years has been the age of the Big Bang cosmology. We have learnt to see all reality as a slow-motion explosion, as pouring itself out and passing away, as dissemination. We live in a postmodern epoch in which there is nothing absolute, nothing permanent and nothing substantial.

The Servant who really studies his Master gradually becomes like his master gradually learns that he himself is the one who in the end does all the work and has all the power.

Religious ideas such as the idea of God have functioned as regulative ideals for us to aspire after: we too could become unified and capable subjects we too could learn how to know the world and reshape our environment to meet our own needs.

All life is dying life – including the life of God.