Logan Robertson

No Upside

There’s no upside to this thing.

COVID-19 is now the leading cause of death in the US and I don’t see resurrection in it. You’re free to look at your life however you wish but most of what I hear and read from religious people and spiritual but not religious people is look-on-the-bright-side-thinking disguised as mindfulness or contemplation and it rings hollow to me.

Have you cried and gnashed your teeth over the senselessness of it? Have you cast around for meaning and found none? Have you mourned the death and wide disparities again revealed to exist between the poor and rich, black and white, between material scarcity and abundance? Have you shouted and cursed in a Zoom meeting and said, “To hell with it all and to hell with all of you and this goddamn sonofabitch bastard virus?”

I haven’t. Not really.

But I should. I ought to. We all ought to cast aside our pathetic search for meaning and cloying positive thinking. We ought to dig our fingernails into our scalps and scream; “What the fuck is going on!?” until we can’t scream anymore.

Then we might make space for a question about what we owe to each other now and after and what we always owed each other before. We might ask how we could do better next time if we could get a measure of grace. We might dream about a time and a place where we don’t fear death, where we freely bear each other’s burdens and feel each other’s pain, and where when a beast stalks us we turn to each other first with mercy and the confidence that when the complete comes the partial shall come to an end.

A Failure of Imagination

This morning I am reminded of the homeless service providers and government agencies that came out against the Right to Survive Ballot Initiative—aka 300—last year. The initiative would have confirmed the human right of people experiencing homelessness to seek shelter and stability, even when that effort looks very different from those of us with white picket fences. At the time, these providers argued that we couldn’t know the unintended consequences of passing the initiative and that we could “do better” than leaving people to shelter in public.

Today, the city and aforementioned service providers are doing their best to provide shelter under extraordinary circumstances, for which they should be commended. Of course, social distancing is impossible in an emergency shelter, so we might rightly expect many individuals to instead find their own shelter, to the best of their ability, in public. And yet, today homeless folks on the streets of Denver are being subjected to police sweeps, their encampments broken up, the “social distance” they had established destroyed by city policy.

The emergency we’re all experiencing is doubly impacting our homeless neighbors but because of the nature of the virus, this impact will be felt by us all.

Small service providers, like the one I work for, focus on relationship, connection, and learning the stories of people who find shelter in public spaces. Because we learn these stories, we know that homeless folks use their agency to the best of their ability to stay safe, to support each other, to work for the health of their community. Because of these relationships, small providers unanimously supported the Right to Survive Ballot Initiative.

It seems to me that one of the unintended consequences of failing to pass 300 is that, now, people’s ability to act responsibly in this crisis has been removed along with their agency. All of us will bear the cost of this failure of imagination.

I’m not all for sharing every sermon I preach. This one is pretty good though, I think. Includes some very questionable, loosey-goosey translation work. networkcoffeehouse.org/urbanmerc…

Too busy to be human

One of the most trying things about adulthood is how intentional you have to be about every little thing to avoid things you care about dissolving into mist.

Take friendship, for instance. When you’re young everyone is just kinda knocking around and bumping along and you find friends. You accidentally end up in the same places and find sacred time to share joys, hopes, and fears with each other.

As an adult in our society if you luck into meeting someone you might want to be friends with, you better pursue that person like a lover or you’ll never make a meaningful connection with them. The thing is, this missed connection is a tragedy. Really all we’re meant for is to connect with others and share ourselves with each other. That’s the whole ballgame. But our culture is aggressively arrayed against spending the time required to deeply encounter another person.

I know I’m not the only one who feels this way but I worry about coming across as a cloying, needy burden to people around me. I set a meeting for coffee w/ someone and they show up 15 minutes late and I’m like, what’s the point? I want you for an hour or more! I want time to spin out around us and flower into one hundred possibilities for us knowing each other.

All I want from life is to hear people’s stories, their desires, their hopes and fears. I want to hear about what someone hates, the people they can’t stand, the thing their parents do that gives them grief. But we let these relationships slip through our fingers and collectively we’ve decided it’s no big deal. It’s just one of those things. It’s part of being 30, you know, we’re busy? We skim across the surface of our lives together. We’re off to the next meeting, or the next errand. We’re “just in the middle of something,” we’ll “get right back to you,” but we never do, and we barely remember that we missed out on a dozen such connections throughout our day.

Too busy to be human.

You Don’t Need a Face Mask for Coronavirus thewirecutter.com/blog/face…

Wikipedia ❤️ www.wired.com/story/wik…

Doting after our precious self is getting us nowhere

Friends, it’s time to abandon your self-care regimen. This is especially true of those of you in helping professions but frankly it extends to everyone. The suffering you feel is largely self-imposed because you’ve caught yourself in a wish. I wish a man hadn’t burst into flame on my shift (apologies to Ryan), I wish that man didn’t hit that other man in the face three times three feet in front of me (that one is in my lane), I wish the world wasn’t hurtling inexorably toward climatic catastrophe and mass extinction.

You’re addicted to your wish about the way you think things should be because it creates meaning for you. The secret you keep from yourself is that if your wish ever came true the meaning you create would collapse. Your wish is crushing you and your feeble efforts at bandaging the wound are failing (by design).

Change is necessary, justice ought to be done but the question for you is, what can be done within the capacity of your own will? Probably very little! But with a firm handle on your will you have a chance to see what might be done inside your sphere of influence. If your sphere doesn’t extend very far, well you’re going to need a few friends aren’t you?

Doting after our precious self is getting us nowhere. Time to come to terms with our own poverty, get real about our very limited personal capacity, build power and coalitions more broadly, and face the world optimistically about what is set before us.

Published in 2019

A few things published in 2019 that I’m proud of:

A Catholic missionary, Episcopal Friar, and a Methodist walk into a bar...

Last week I had lunch with a Catholic missionary and an Episcopal Friar. They were talking about church polity and doctrine. Kind of comparing notes I guess. It was interesting because they’re both quite convicted/convinced re the rightness and importance of doing things in the right way based on the correct interpretation of doctrine, scripture, and tradition.

There is something quite attractive about conviction in an age primarily characterized, as it is, by doubt. Many post-liberal-post-modern-post-post-irony so-called “Progressive” Protestant Christians (like me) want to chalk up this general inability to come down strongly on any particular claim about truth as something to do with divine mystery. But really we have to say that doubt about what’s true—doubt that something can be true—dominates the culture from top to bottom. So when someone appears to be confidently convicted about something it’s a bit of a surprise.

This is different than stridency, which is so widespread, especially in our politics, and which is a reaction against the age of doubt we’re living through. Stridency screeches because it’s filled with doubt while conviction quietly stands on ground it is confident will not shift under its feet.

So, I’m like this vaguely Wesleyan lapsed Methodist guy. My view is chronically infected with doubt and I often feel myself resisting the rising spring of stridency struggling to fill the void. Now, obviously there are Methodists out there who can go toe to toe with anyone on polity and doctrine and all that but I found that I was sitting there thinking, all I really care about is mercy. If anything gets in the way of that I’m just really ready to toss it in the bin.

Perhaps that is my conviction: that anything getting in the way of communicating grace to the person in front of me ought to be left in the dust, including—paradoxically—my own conviction that mercy is all that matters. I’m happy to affirm someone’s deeply held conviction that communion ought to be carried out in just a certain way if that conviction is what they need to experience grace, even though I think the whole song and dance gets a little bit too heavy for the ritualization of a simple meal to bear.

When I explained all this to a friend he replied that utility is a deeply held Wesleyan value, so it may be that this is no surprise. Do my doubts loom larger than they actually are? Are my theological convictions more solidly supported by tradition than I know? These things are really only borne out in practice, which is one reason why I continue to show up in spaces where marginalized people gather—to see what it really takes to communicate grace to people who need it most, and to see what it means to accept grace from them in turn.

Read in 2019

These are books I technically finished in 2019 insofar as I read every word on the page. But what is “reading a book?” In grad school I learned to “break” a book: that is, not to read it but to systematically break it down into introductions, conclusions, chapters, headings, main points, thesis statements, and themes. Is that really reading or is it some kind of brute force data extraction?

So I have a long list of nonfiction books in my “reading” category but some part of me feels I haven’t “finished” reading them. I’m still breaking them. Or maybe I go break a piece off now and then when I need some data.

Fiction doens’t really work like that though—not for me. So the fiction list here is longer.

In part, it is so long becuase over the summer I accomplished my goal of reading the entire Vorkosigan Saga by Lois McMaster Bujold. Except for a one novella I couldn’t find in the library and a couple of short stories, I finished every book. The whole series is dying for a breezy TV adaptation.


  • The Storm Before the Storm – Mike Duncan
  • Breakfast at the Victory – James P. Carse


  • A Closed and Common Orbit – Becky Chambers
  • Annihilation – Jeff Vandermeer
  • Borne – Jeff Vandermeer
  • The Bayern Agenda – Dan Moren
  • Gentleman Jole and the Red Queen – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • Cryoburn – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • The Flowers of Vashnoi – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • Captain Vorpatril’s Alliance – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • Diplomatic Immunity – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • A Civil Campaign – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • Komarr – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • Memory – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • Mirror Dance – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • Brothers in Arms – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • The Borders of Infinity – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • Labyrinth – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • The Mountains of Mourning – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • Ethan of Athos – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • Cetaganda – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • The Vor Game – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • Barrayar – Lois McMaster Bujold
  • Shards of Honor - Lois McMaster Bujold
  • Persepolis Rising – James S.A. Corey
  • Tiamat’s Wrath – James S.A. Corey
  • Master and Commander – Patrick O’Brian
  • Ordination – Daniel M. Ford

An ideologically motivated historical gloss on the divide between establishment Democrats and the Bernie wing of the party

Here’s my ideologically motivated historical gloss on the divide between establishment Democrats and the Bernie wing of the party:

There was almost a European socialist revolution in 1848 but the (GUESS WHO!?) liberals sided with the conservatives and all the socialists got thrown out of Germany. The only people left in power were blood and steel conservative Otto Van Bismark dickheads. Fast forward 66 years and Europe is throwing its entire male population into the meat grinder.

Meanwhile those German socialists came to America, fought for the Union in the Civil War, started making cheese and sausage in Wisconsin and got a bunch of unions going.

So I guess vote for Biden at your own risk.

This is my church now.

Until last year the space this building is on was 20 parking spaces. Now it’s 60 one bedroom units of Permanent Supportive Housing for chronically homeless individuals. The Epsicopalian Cathedral across the street gave the land and helped finance construction.

shared power, bro, I agree ✊

please follow my new project @mywifesdirtyknife link in bio instagram.com/mywifesdi…

just… why?

If you want one of these ridiculous cookies, you gotta brave the snow and come hang at @networkcoffeehouse tonight. 6pm 1402 Pearl St

elon musk brain geneouse

woke af

Sonia Delaunay

ketchup fried rice w/ chicken nuggets my son wouldn’t eat and diced pickles 👍🏻

it’s a small pill but sharp

This killed me. I’m dead now. 💀


memento mori