Pic of the Day

No Favorites

“My brothers and sisters, do you with your acts of favoritism really believe in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ?” 

—James 2:1

James doesn’t ease into this passage. He comes right out and names the problem: favoritism. He paints a vivid scene—one person dressed in fine clothes is welcomed, honored, given the best seat. Another, poor and unimpressive, is pushed aside, told to stand or sit on the floor. James calls this what it is: making distinctions, becoming judges with evil thoughts.

On the surface, this sounds like a warning about wealth. But beneath that is something broader and more uncomfortable. James is talking about how quickly we decide who is worthy of attention, dignity, and care—and who is not.

For gay men, this hits close to home.

Our community often claims to value inclusivity, but in practice we frequently reward youth, beauty, muscles, and a very specific idea of desirability. Older gay men are ignored. Average bodies are overlooked. Anyone who doesn’t fit the polished image of the “ideal man” becomes invisible—or worse, quietly dismissed. We may not say it out loud, but our actions speak clearly: you matter less.

I know I’m guilty of this. All you have to do is look at the pictures I post. Before I even came out to myself, I told myself that I liked beautiful, muscular men because I wanted to look like that—not because I was gay. That story helped me avoid a harder truth. It also revealed how deeply I had absorbed the belief that beauty equals worth.

James doesn’t let us off the hook by calling this a harmless preference. He says plainly:

“Have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts?” (James 2:4)

That’s uncomfortable language. But James isn’t interested in shaming us—he’s interested in freeing us from a system of value that is not God’s.

God’s economy works differently. James reminds us that God consistently chooses those the world overlooks:

“Has not God chosen the poor in the world to be rich in faith and to be heirs of the kingdom?” (James 2:5)

When we privilege only the beautiful, the young, the desired, we mirror the very hierarchies that once crushed us. We recreate exclusion while insisting we’re liberated.

James points us back to what he calls “the royal law”:

“You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (James 2:8)

Love, here, isn’t abstract. It’s concrete. It shows up in who we notice, who we listen to, who we make room for, and who we dismiss without a second thought. Favoritism—even subtle, unspoken favoritism—breaks that law.

This passage ends with both warning and hope:

“For judgment will be without mercy to anyone who has shown no mercy; mercy triumphs over judgment.” (James 2:13)

Mercy triumphs. Not beauty. Not youth. Not desirability. Mercy.

This isn’t about never appreciating beauty. It’s about recognizing how easily we confuse attraction with value—and how often that confusion leads us to overlook the sacredness in bodies and lives that don’t fit our ideals.

The invitation here isn’t guilt. It’s honesty. It’s asking ourselves: Who am I giving the best seat to? And who am I asking to stand off to the side?

God shows no partiality. And every time we choose mercy over judgment, we step a little closer to seeing one another—and ourselves—the way God already does.

Pic of the Day

Moment of Zen: Reading

Pic of the Day

An In-Between Kind of Day

I’m so glad today is a work-from-home day. Tomorrow I’ll be in early for a special event, so having this quieter morning feels like a small gift.

Since I’m working on Saturday, I had yesterday off—and because I’m working from home today, I’ll still need to head in early to get everything set up for the program I’ll be doing. It’s one of those in-between days: not exactly a day off, not quite a full workday either.

I only wish today’s weather was what we’re expecting tomorrow. Today will warm up to about 23 degrees—the mildest it’s been in weeks. Tomorrow, though, is a very different story. We’re under a severe weather advisory, with wind chills expected to drop 20 to 30 below zero. At least the museum should be warm.

I have a few things to take care of while working from home today. Tomorrow’s program should wrap up by around 10 a.m., and after that, the rest of the day will be paperwork and taking things easy until it’s time to head home.

Some days are about bracing against the cold. Others are about finding the small comforts where you can—and today feels a bit like that.

* 🚨 * 🚨 * Red Alert * 🚨 * 🚨 *

🖖Possible spoiler ahead…

Starfleet Academy Update

Y’all know I’m a Star Trek fan, so you’ll just have to get used to at least five more weeks of me sharing my thoughts on Starfleet Academy. My favorite Star Trek series has always been Deep Space Nine. It’s one of the most complex and intriguing of all the Treks, and I’ve watched the entire series dozens of times.

I think we all have a movie or TV show we return to when we need something familiar—mindless comfort, a pick-me-up, or just a way to quiet whatever’s rattling around in our heads. For me, that show is Deep Space Nine.

So when I read that this week’s Starfleet Academy episode was being described as a “love letter to Deep Space Nine,” I was—needless to say—very excited.

There were definitely things I loved about the episode. The little bit of gay drama between Jay-Den and Kyle was fun, and Darem’s jealousy was about as subtle as a photon torpedo. Drag queen Jackie Cox appears, Tawny Newsome guest stars, and we get to see Cirroc Lofton again—who has grown into quite a handsome man.

That said… there is one thing about the episode that genuinely pissed me off.

If anyone’s curious what that was, let me know in the comments. I’m happy to answer there, or I may save it and talk more about it on Monday—once everyone who wants to watch the episode has had time to do so.

🖖

Pic of the Day

A Quiet Morning

Some mornings, the words just don’t line up the way I want them to. Today is one of those days. I’m sitting here with thoughts drifting past, but none quite willing to settle into sentences.

That’s okay. Not every day needs a polished reflection or a carefully shaped idea. Sometimes showing up is enough.

I hope your day brings you something steady and kind—a good cup of coffee, a moment of quiet, a laugh you didn’t expect. Wherever you are and whatever you’re carrying, I hope today treats you gently.

Pic of the Day

Halfway Through

Some days don’t arrive with an argument or an insight. They just show up.

Today is one of those days. The week is halfway over, which somehow feels both reassuring and slightly disorienting. I’m off tomorrow, though I’ll be working Saturday, so the usual rhythm of the week feels a little skewed—time folded in on itself.

Work today is steady but manageable. There are several things I need to get done, but nothing especially heavy or consuming—just the kind of tasks that move projects along without demanding all of my attention.

Thursday will be simple and practical. A short doctor’s appointment to finish something we couldn’t quite wrap up earlier in the week. Nothing dramatic, just a loose end being tied. After that, Planet Fitness—probably just thirty minutes on the treadmill. No grand workout plan, no pushing limits. Just walking, moving forward, letting my thoughts drift while the minutes pass.

I usually read while I’m on the treadmill. It makes the time go faster and keeps my mind from constantly checking in with that familiar question—how much longer? When I’m absorbed in a page or two, my body seems to take care of itself. I don’t think as much about balance or movement; I just keep going.

The part of the day I’m most looking forward to comes later: spending the afternoon with an older male friend I don’t get to see nearly often enough. We usually talk nonstop—about books, art, history, museums, and whatever else the conversation wanders into. Those kinds of conversations are their own kind of nourishment.

Not every day needs to be productive in obvious ways. Not every post needs a point. Some days are about maintenance—of the body, of routines, of friendships. And that’s enough.

Sometimes, halfway through the week, showing up quietly is its own accomplishment.