Category Archives: Uncategorized

It is a curious thing, I often think, that mankind, in his overweening pride, believes he can conquer nature, whether it be outside or inside. The natural world seems an unnatural world.

And so, when disasters happen, especially when children are lost, we cry out, “Why?” Like St. Paul in today’s letter to the church in Rome, we “groaneth and travaileth in pain together… groaning within ourselves…” (Romans 8:18+)

We have, it appears, an irrational hope and expectation that is dashed when children are lost, when innocents suffer, when plague and famine kill, when the unborn are slaughtered, when human holocausts rage.

The real question is, why do we ask “Why?” Why do we have this hope and expectation that things should be different than they are?

Light and dark. Joy and sorrow. Life and death. Truth and lies.

When I consider the Texas floods I groan within. When I consider the slaughter of the unborn I groan within. When I think of those lost in the Nine-Eleven terror I groan within. And so many other times of pain and suffering in this life throughout our world.

But I know, and I am so very glad and grateful to believe in that certain knowledge, that, as St. Paul writes, “the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us… because [we] shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.” The glorious liberty – yes, yes, yes.

We are children of God, and we shall be reunited with those lost. This is not a vain promise, but the act of God himself on a hill outside Jerusalem. And we must remember that it was Herod who slaughtered the innocents. Yet we ask, “But why? Why must this be?”

We know why – because of Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden. Because of a snake and fruit and disobedience and lies. Because of banishment from that garden, that paradise. And so we live and work and grow old and ill and feel death’s sting until we go home to Paradise and our bodies are redeemed from the bondage of corruption.

We have all had our share of tragedy and heartbreak, sin and death. We have all been a part of this saga of suffering. We want to cast blame, find a scapegoat. But when we confess our own failings, hourly, daily, we are not so quick to condemn. We clean out our hearts, scour them with the love of God and the bright light of Christ, that glorious rule of love. And when we are clean, the door opens and Our Lord returns. He now resides in our hearts – and there is no greater joy, no greater life, no greater truth than opening our hearts to the Love of God. It is a healing love, one that helps with our groaning and grief.

There was something diabolic about the Texas flood, this slaughter of innocents. It happened in the dark, while they were sleeping. It happened on the Fourth of July, our celebration of life and liberty. It happened to Christian campers, trusting and loving.

And yet, the stories of heroism, those who saved others, are resurrecting those lives lost, reminding us that these innocents are in Paradise and Love lives on in our country.

Still, we groan and grieve. We look to Christ to redeem this time and in the meantime, this mean-time in which we live outside the garden, we play our part in the redemption of the world, celebrating the Judeo-Christian promise of the West – freedom, faith, and family. And our children.

_______

Congratulations to the ten winners of the Goodreads Giveaway for Angel Mountain (Wipf and Stock, 2020) in celebration of Western Civilization and the Judeo-Christian tradition of life and liberty.

Today, Memorial Day, we celebrate Western Civilization and those brave men and women who fought and died to defend our freedoms, our way of life embracing the moral code of Christianity and Judaism. We honor you and we thank you! We will never forget the sacrifices you made for us. Your courage and fortitude are an example to our children and our grandchildren.

And so today I’m pleased to announce that American Christian Fiction Writers has published my post, Visible Virtues: Fearless Fortitude, the second in a four-part series on the Cardinal Virtues, encouraging Christian novelists to tell tales of virtue and create heroes with fortitude who embody the Judeo-Christian ethos, the foundation of Western Civilization.

Fortitude can be found in my own novels (not sure how much I have, but I try), and my sixth novel, The Fire Trail, has now been sent to the ten winners of my recent Goodreads Giveaway. Nearly four thousand readers entered over the thirty day period ending on May 23. As many might recall, this story involves our current cultural threats, the line between barbarism and civilization, and the definition of peace and freedom in our world today. Where is America heading? Set in 2014, the signs were ominous and the need for a cultural renewal in America was urgent. Many today are heeding that call, and throughout the West revivals of faith and freedom are lighting the way. Will the world heed the light or choose the dark?

Today is also a time of population implosion with a spiraling birth rate, and many predict a doomsday scenario given the “birth dearth” recognized, albeit belatedly. Can we turn this depopulation crisis around? Catherine Pakaluk addresses this question from an interesting point of view in her new book, Hannah’s Children: The Women Quietly Defying the Birth Dearth. In this clear analysis (the author holds a doctorate in Economics and is the mother of eight) she considers the motivations of women who have large families, five children or more. The results are stunning – for these mothers are quietly testifying to the joy of giving life and nurturing that life. They see birth as the greatest event of all time (which it is, I would think) and one which they want to be a part of as often as possible, this birthing life. They choose this way of living, indeed, this path of loving shared with children and spouses in the social construct we call the family, the cornerstone of the Judeo-Christian tradition.

I believe it was the Anglican mystic, Evelyn Underhill (highly recommended), who wrote that the family is the school of charity (love), where we learn to love one another unconditionally, to resolve conflicts and encourage civility, to be selfless and not selfish, to finally enter the wide world as adults, graduates of this remarkable school, the family.

And of course these adults carry with them the virtues of that school of love, virtues taught and embodied by their parents in this first social community, the family. They become responsible citizens of a larger community, the town, the state, the nation. They hold the virtues close to their hearts, reinforced by Church and Synagogue – the theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity (love), the cardinal virtues of temperance, fortitude, prudence, and justice. They honor the Ten Commandments, the social contract that allows peace and freedom to flourish. They have learned to try and love their neighbor and care for the poor, to celebrate mercy and the sanctity of human life, regardless of race or creed, including the unborn and the aged. These things, these first things, they have been taught in their families, and in the family of God, the Church and Temple.

I give thanks for Catherine Pakaluk and all those who give witness to a better way of living, one tried and true, ordained by our Creator, God Almighty. I give thanks for those men and women who give witness to this way of life and who died protecting it. I give thanks for our national memory, for this Memorial Day when we celebrate these first things, these virtuous things, these living things.

Memorial Day reminds us to remember and to never forget.

I recently discovered a remarkable network of Christian homeschool mothers across the country who have created home libraries, encouraging one another with their collections of books that teach children our history and our faith through classics past and present. They are seeding a literary Renaissance of reading and art in our land. To begin the journey with them, visit Plumfield Moms and see where the path takes you. They offer book reviews, podcasts, and a newsletter called Shelf Notes.

Indeed, in this first week of Eastertide, I have been thinking about renewal, rebirth, resurrection. Every minute we live our lives on this good Earth, we breathe in resurrection, for life itself is a kind of miraculous renewal. There is also a dying, to be sure, the cells aging, the skin sagging, the hair graying. But within, we prepare for new life upon death, so that we will recognize Our Lord at the gates of the New Jerusalem. But more importantly, we desire Him to recognize us, to see us as His own.

My novel-in-submission (currently with Histria Books), The Music of the Mountain, touches on these themes, a moving through time into greater time, from the mortal to the immortal, from life to death to life. As Christians, we believe our life on Earth is a growing, renewing work of our Creator’s grace upon us. All we need do is say yes. All we need do is reflect on our hours and days and confess our failings, to be changed with Christ’s forgiveness and be reborn.

This is how we grow our souls, and the classical canon of literature, augmented by some modern works, teaches the difference between virtue and vice. We must learn this important difference, and so the Church gives us lists of the goods to embrace and the evils to shun. Indeed, in our baptisms, where we begin our journey, we are grafted onto and into the Body of Christ. We vow to renounce evil and choose good. From this moment, we will spend our lifetimes being reborn, regenerated, resurrected.

And so it was with great joy that my little novel-manuscript received another endorsement this last week, this week of resurrection, this one from Kimberly Begg of the Clare Boothe Luce Center, whose work I greatly admire:

“Christine Sunderland’s The Music of the Mountain is a haunting and intriguing novel about freedom, friendship, and faith—that is as much a warning as it is a harbinger of hope. Set in an alternate world burdened by 21^st century government overreach, the story is a stirring reminder that truth, courage, and love can endure even in the darkest times—and Western Civilization is worth saving.”

– Kimberly Begg, president of the Clare Boothe Luce Center for Conservative Women

Yes, Western Civilization is worth saving. We live in times that question this obvious truth, a time of illiteracy, short attention spans, and moral chaos. We can redeem the time. Western Civilization, birthed by our Judeo-Christian ethos and kept alive by Irish monks scribbling in candlelight on parchment, preserved our world of freedom. This fusion of Jerusalem, Athens, and Rome, teaches us how to live with one another, so that we might grow in grace as a nation under God.

America is the cornerstone of this cherished civilization, nurtured since her founding 250 years ago. In honor of this anniversary, I am offering a Goodreads Giveaway, ten copies of The Fire Trail, my novel of freedom and faith that considers the border between barbarism and civilization.

And so seeds are sown – through words on the pages of good books. Our country, our culture, will see a literary renaissance. She will rise from the ashes, reborn, resurrected, just as each one of us will rise too.

I’m pleased to announce in celebration of the 250th anniversary of America, I am offering ten copies of The Fire Trail in a Goodreads Giveaway. Enter to win over the next 30 days a copy of this award-winning novel about faith and freedom set near UC Berkeley.

With each passing year, I have found that Palm Sunday touches me deeply, body and soul. As Christ enters through the gates of Jerusalem to fulfill the Old Testament prophecies, riding on the foal of an ass, the crowds gather along the way, strewing palm branches to honor him.

The glory of Palm Sunday is that we ride with him, through our own gates into the city of Jerusalem, for we believe his promises.

And with each passing year, I wonder at the Gospel for today. It is not Matthew’s account of Christ’s entry (which we heard on the First Sunday in Advent), but Matthew’s account of Christ’s trial and crucifixion.

But instead of hearing about the entry into Jerusalem today, we act out the story, waving our palms and processing around the church, singing “All glory, laud, and honor/ To thee, Redeemer, King!/ To whom the lips of children/ Made sweet hosannas ring!” Often, the procession follows the cross into the neighborhood, then returns to the church’s closed front door. The leader knocks, and the door is opened. We enter.

We sing the good news of salvation, that our King has come, as prophesied (Zechariah 9:9). Salvation? Saved from what? From the effects of sin, death. We ride with our King who holds us close on our own journey on Earth, so that we may enter the gates of the New Jerusalem in Heaven. Today we acted out our own life journey in time.

It has been said that Christian time is linear time, comprising past, present, and future. We do not go in circles, or stay in one place. We are not reincarnated. We were and are created to create, to use the gifts given by our Creator to magnify beauty, truth, and goodness. We learn in time what virtues to don and what sins to deny. We learn what is lawful and what is not lawful, what is moral and what is immoral, in God’s sight. In this way we travel the path to Jerusalem. In this way, when we knock on the gates, they will open for us.

We are told the way is narrow, and we must be small to enter, and I’ve often thought this is a clue to the necessary need for humility, to see outside ourselves, to not be drowned in the quicksand of self and pride. For if we cannot see outside our own personal universe, we are blind to the love of God. So we confess where we have sinned, are absolved, and are redeemed. We return to the path of humility for we have repented.

And in the end, at the closing of our days, it will be the love of God that opens the gates. It will be the love of God that teaches us the path to take. It will be the love of God that reveals his love shining through others, or not, revealing how each one of us is infinitely unique and beloved by him. This is what Christians celebrate, as they ride with Jesus the Christ, the Messiah, through the gates of Jerusalem, singing songs of praise.

This coming Holy Week and the victory of Easter resurrection are the heart of Christianity, and to observe these days as the Church has done for centuries, is to hear the other Gospel accounts, those written by Mark (Monday and Tuesday), Luke (Wednesday and Thursday), and John (Friday).

Today we enter the gates of Holy Week, humbly alongside Our Lord. We journey with him in his last days on Earth, to understand better who he is and who we are. There will be moneychanger tables overturned. There will be a last Seder supper in which the passing over of death in Egypt is remembered, and Christ becomes the fourth cup, offering himself in the bread and wine. There will be anguish in the Garden of Gethsemane, betrayal, trial, and the Way of the Cross. There will be crucifixion, death, and burial in Joseph of Arimathea’s tomb.

The women will weep and the disciples will scatter, but as foretold, there will be resurrection on Easter morning.

And we will rise too. With him.

I received a powerful endorsement for my new novel (to be published one day…), The Music of the Mountain:

“How do four extraordinary Americans – an elderly Anglican priest, a fired UC Berkeley professor and two of her former students who lost jobs for standing up to the Left – execute a plan to beat the authoritarian, book-burning California regime? The four characters are richly described and have diverse life experiences. They all love freedom and recognize they must stand together against the tyranny of the state. The development of their Christian faith is a key part of the tale. Gripping in places, it is the kind of a book you will be sorry to leave when it is finished… a compelling story, beautifully written…”

—Michelle Easton, Chairman of the Board, Clare Boothe Luce Center for Conservative Women

Each endorsement is unique, reflecting the insight and life of that particular reader, one of the themes of the novel. For we are all uniquely different, and are blessed with talents that no one else has. It is our job to discover them, to journey through this life in the light of God the Creator of all. And so we say with the Psalmist, “show us the light of thy countenance upon us and bless us.” For without that light we wander in the dark.

The seasons of the Church, the Bride of Christ, sing to us with the light of Christ. We enter each unique season to discover who we are and who we are meant to be. We follow the days and weeks of the Church Year and try to be faithful stewards of the light we have been given, sharing that light with others to show them the path to joy.

Along the way, we learn to love.

And the challenges we face, the sufferings we endure, we offer up, as they say, knowing we do not need to face these difficulties alone. For He is alongside, always, transforming, enlightening, redeeming.

Recently we faced a challenge in our home: rats in our attic. I mean, literally, a major infestation of rats. For two days professionals climbed into the space, cleaned it out, disinfected it, and replaced all the insulation (yes, the rats made nests of the insulation). The workers wore what looked like space suits and goggles. Yikes.

It’s a metaphor I cannot resist: we too are infested; our spiritual attics need cleaning. Lent is a good reminder to shine a spotlight on the soul – to take stock, clean, and disinfect with confession, repentance, absolution, and the love of God.

So this endorsement came at a good time, amidst the chaos of our home. And now today, on this Laetare (Rejoice) Sunday, we sing with the Gregorian introit: “Rejoice ye with Jerusalem and be glad for her, all ye that delight in her…”

Within the artistic beauty and poetic rhythms of the Church we prepare for our redemption on Easter’s Resurrection Day, moving into Passiontide and Palm Sunday and Holy Week. We sing and we dance the liturgies and tell the story once again, the story of who we are and who we are meant to be, children of the Father. We read the poetry of the Gospels and the Psalms and we place the words in the baskets of our hearts, tender and beautiful words that render Eternity in our moment in Time.

For you and I are works of art too. We are poems, plays, and melodies, notes of that heavenly music, each one given a part, to sing with our lives. We endorse one another with ourselves, stepping through our own time given.

Every word counts. Every note counts. Every life counts as we near the promised pinnacle, the sacrifice and resurrection of Christ, and our own resurrections too.

I’m pleased to announce that American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) has published my Ash Wednesday post, “Visible Virtues: Tangible Temperance”, how Christian fiction writers give life to dry bones, telling our human story with tangible characters forging faith with temperance. Many thanks, ACFW!