First Things RSS Feed - Bryce A. Taylor https://www.firstthings.com/author/bryce-a-taylor en-us Copyright 2025 First Things. All Rights Reserved. ft@firstthings.com (The Editors) ft@firstthings.com (The Editors) Mon, 20 Jan 2025 16:50:46 -0500 https://d2201k5v4hmrsv.cloudfront.net/img/favicon-196.png First Things RSS Feed Image https://www.firstthings.com/rss/author/bryce-a-taylor 60 The Threat https://www.firstthings.com/article/2016/05/the-threat https://www.firstthings.com/article/2016/05/the-threat Sun, 01 May 2016 00:00:00 -0400 Barabbas we can understand—
a bit unhinged, but we have planned

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]]> On the Wrong Side of History https://www.firstthings.com/article/2014/08/on-the-wrong-side-of-history https://www.firstthings.com/article/2014/08/on-the-wrong-side-of-history Fri, 01 Aug 2014 00:00:00 -0400 Smart people have informed me I am on
the wrong, or losing, side of history.
But will there be
a right and winning side when the world is gone?

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]]> How to Have an Abortion https://www.firstthings.com/article/2013/11/how-to-have-an-abortion https://www.firstthings.com/article/2013/11/how-to-have-an-abortion Fri, 01 Nov 2013 00:00:00 -0400 Don’t think about the freckles he, or she,
Might have, or how much hair, how big a grin,
Or whether swimming would come naturally,
Or whether— it? —might play the violin.

Don’t think of prom, don’t think of puppy love
Or calculus, or snow, or spring in bloom,
Or anything that might remind you of
The future now contained within a womb.

Don’t feel anxiety, don’t feel regret,
Don’t fret about some otherworldly guilt.
Don’t feel the bond of parenthood, don’t let
Insane outmoded Don Quixotes tilt

At private windmills—don’t spill any ink
Examining yourself. Don’t feel. Don’t think.

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]]> At the Church of the Nativity https://www.firstthings.com/article/2013/01/at-the-church-of-the-nativity https://www.firstthings.com/article/2013/01/at-the-church-of-the-nativity Tue, 01 Jan 2013 00:00:00 -0500 Upstanding persons surely find it odd,
The way these pilgrims crawl to Bethlehem.
How baffling is the foolishness of God.

Two thousand years have passed, and still they plod,
Hoping a cave might shed some light on them.
Enlightened persons surely find it odd.

The virgin queen, derided as a fraud,
Wore sweat drops for her regal diadem.
How vulgar is the foolishness of God.

His manger had been mangled: partly gnawed
By oxen, partly damp from donkey phlegm.
Hygienic persons surely find it odd.

Naked he came, no robe, no crown, no rod:
A stone to be rejected, yet a gem.
How coarse and rare, the foolishness of God.

Infinite glory chose for its facade
The poverty that kings and courts condemn.
Upstanding persons surely find it odd.
How beautiful, the foolishness of God.

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]]> Hail https://www.firstthings.com/article/2010/12/hail https://www.firstthings.com/article/2010/12/hail Wed, 01 Dec 2010 00:00:00 -0500 Like this Auschwitz barbed-wire rosary”
clipped with teeth and finger twisted,
black-blood-stained, rain-encrusted,
thorny, skin-pricking, motherly-misery-
pregnant, passed from hand to bone-ripped
ashen hand, brand of traitors
to the empire, fire in chokehold chambers
sparking visions of seraphic coal-tipped
tongs, rag-hidden prayer
ridden pearl
pruned from Israel’s bondage, now a
sign of our ingrafted bough, the
mangled laughingstock of the world”

Like this, dear son, is the whole of the blessed
and jubilant faith that we confess.

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