Reclaiming Hope in an Age of Spiritual Disillusionment
Why Learning by Fire? It’s a playful nod to my last name, but it’s also a deeply personal reflection of who I am as an educator and a person of faith.
As a teacher, I believe real learning isn’t about filling a bucket, it’s about lighting a fire. It requires passion, curiosity, and sometimes a little trial by fire to build resilience. On a spiritual level, it’s a tribute to the Holy Spirit, who refines us, guides us, and sparks the wisdom we pass on to the next generation. Around here, we don’t just teach; we let the fire move us.
I write at the intersection of professional experience, theological reflection, and a lifelong search for meaning.
For over twenty years, I have taught history, philosophy, and English at the secondary level. In the classroom, my work isn’t just about dates and definitions, it’s about helping students wrestle with the big questions: What is truth? What does justice require of us? How do we construct identity, shoulder responsibility, and live a life of purpose? Holding a Master of Education has deepened my appreciation for how people learn, mature, and make sense of their lived experience, which is a foundation that deeply informs how I think about spiritual formation, moral development, and communal care.
My vocation as a member of the clergy gives me a practical and theological framework for connecting the altar to the street—linking worship with the urgent needs of the wider world. Through my work in deacon formation, I stay in constant conversation with people serving faithfully across an ever-shifting religious landscape.
At the same time, I write as someone who exists both inside and outside institutional church life:
- I have been deeply formed by Christian worship, Scripture, ancient rituals, and the warmth of community.
- I have also known doubt, disappointment, institutional pressure, anxiety, depression, exclusion, and the subtle trap of confusing religious performance with true faithfulness.
I know firsthand the profound comfort faith communities can offer and the real wounds they can inflict. I do not write as a detached critic, nor as an apologist for inherited traditions. I write as someone anchored in the church’s potential for renewal, holding its present reality accountable to the love it proclaims.
When I’m not teaching, writing, or serving, you can usually find me tending to a garden—a patient reminder that growth cannot be rushed—or out on the golf course, wrestling with a game that demands as much presence and humility as it does practice. I’m an avid reader of fantasy novels, drawn to the way epic stories use myth and imagination to explore very real human truths. Whether exploring historic sites across Europe and the U.S. or enjoying quiet routines at home, I find that travel, story, and dirt under my fingernails keep me grounded in the beauty of the everyday.
Thanks for being here. I hope these words offer space for your own questions.
