Reflective Writing and Poetic Musing by Condemiang + Stories About the World

I grew up used to seeing Jesus as a white man—with sleek golden hair and glowing porcelain skin.  I honestly thought that’s what he looked like. Even the angels, and those Jews and Gentiles from the Bible? Yeah, I thought they were all foreigners—white people from some faraway land. That’s how I spent my early, unripe fruit days—blissfully unaware, soaking in a Sunday school version of the world. But eventually, as my brain ripened and started stewing in a mess of thoughts, temptations, trivia, and growing pains, I came to realize: Wait a minute... that’s not how it was at all. Lo and behold, I learned about the brutal, heartbreaking history of the Jewish people—a small, marginalized group often dismissed as primitive in the grand narratives of empire. Turns out, they weren’t blonde Europeans with British accents. Who’d have thought? https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=147634977961987&set=pb.100081464553989.-2207520000&locale=gl_ES Sometime in early 2001, the BBC...

My Favourite Friends Software Light is both illumination and the very source of distortion and blindness to us. Don’t ask me why—please. Explaining it is so complicated that I’d end up foaming at the mouth and spitting as I talk. But if you really insist, we’d better do it over a drink—at least the spit from an alcohol-disinfected mouth would be somewhat safer. It was through Rainer Maria Rilke that I first discovered metaphor—those quiet bridges between the visible and the invisible. From that moment, I stepped gently but irrevocably into the realms of literature, history, and philosophy. I chose the sciences, yes, and spent the next 38 years shouldering the consequences of that decision. But I never wonder if the other path would have been better. I believe the person I’ve become is the best possible result of the road I walked. I’ve been extraordinarily lucky. Most of what I longed for came to me. And the things I didn’t attain? Perhaps they were never what I truly desired in the ...

Christmas is returning once again. I reflect on the sacrifice and love of God, who came to the lowest of places to show us the true path of faith. No longer just the God of the Jews, but now the God of all. Jesus was born when His family, wandering and displaced, had no room at any inn—only a manger in a stable. Laid in an animal's feeding trough, His humble and meager beginnings were no less destitute than the poorest among us. Born the son of an unknown carpenter, He was ultimately crucified between two criminals—or perhaps revolutionaries—with the accusation: "King of the Jews." Photo by Joanna Kosinska on Unsplash Why that particular charge? To the religious and political elites—the Sadducees and Pharisees who ruled the world—His radical spirit of transformation must have felt deeply threatening. They could never tolerate doctrinal deviation or religious defiance. To allow such change would have meant the end of their very foundation. He walked among the poor, the s...