kindle, stephen c. rose

Stephen C. Rose Kindle Books

Building this page as I add texts to Kindle, Amazon’s digital reader.

My Kindle Page SOURCE


The Boston Car Wars (1987) (Panflick Novellas) (Kindle Edition)
by Stephen C. Rose (Author) SOURCE

The Manhattan Bully Wars (1947) (Panflick Novellas) (Kindle Edition)
by Stephen C. Rose (Author) SOURCE

Church Renewal

The One Minute Christian (Church Renewal) (Kindle Edition)
by Stephen C. Rose (Author) SOURCE

Beyond Creed: From Religion to Spirituality (Theology) (Kindle Edition)
by Stephen C. Rose SOURCE

The Grass Roots Church — A Manifesto for Protestant Renewal (Church Renewal) (Kindle Edition) by Stephen C. Rose (Author) SOURCE

Biblical Meditations (Church Renewal) (Kindle Edition)
by Stephen C. Rose (Author) SOURCE


Winning The War Within — Collected Sonnets by Stephen C. Rose (Sonnets) by Stephen C. Rose (Kindle Edition – Oct 12, 2008) – Kindle Book SOURCE

Pattern Language Series — Public Domain Works of Interest



TRADITIONAL HISTORY OF TUSAYAN (Pattern Language) (Kindle Edition)
by Cosmos Mindeleff (Author), A. M. Stephen (Author) SOURCE

RUINS AND INHABITED VILLAGES OF CIBOLA (Pattern Language) (Kindle Edition)
by Victor Mindeleff (Author) SOURCE

All About Kindle — Text and Videos SOURCE

huckabee, politics, stephen c. rose

Some Personal Easter Reflections 2008

Mike Huckabee’s full reaction to Barack Obama’s Tuesday Speech, courtesy of Andrew Sullivan. Huckabee wins my Easter Decency Award.

He said:

“We’ve gotta cut some slack to people who grew up being called names; being told you have to sit in the balcony when you go to the movie; you have to go to the back door to go into the restaurant; you can’t sit out there with everyone else, there’s a separate waiting room in the doctor’s office; here’s where you sit on the bus .. . And you know what? Sometimes people do have a chip on their shoulder, and resentment, and you have to just say, “I probably would, too. I probably would, too. And in fact, I may have had more of a chip on my shoulder had it been me.”

I’m one of those people who grew up in privilege. My childhood was a succession of encounters with Black persons. There was Ophelia from Harlem who cleaned our apartment. There were Clemmie and Ermadine. Students at Tuskeegee who came up for the summers and “took care of us” in the country. There was Viola. There was Patsy, Ophelia’s daughter, who baby sat. I remember talking into the night.

Trinity School and Trinity-Pawling where I went for a year, had no Black students. There was a Carl Marazzi and a Dick Steinborn and a Bob Lenzner and a Dicky Paul and a Bill Rewalt, but no Black student. It was the ’40s.

When I got to Exeter, my closest neighbor was Black. This was 1951. His name is Bob Storey. He is retired now. A lawyer from Cleveland who has a second home in Paris. Bob’s wife sits on the board of a geriatric hospital at Western Reserve which was originally established by a Benjamin Rose in the 19th Century. He was a successful Englishman who returned to England after making a fortune. Childless, his estate was given to support white women in straitened circumstances. The permutations of philanthropy.

At Exeter, Mike McCrary had records of Leadbelly, Cisco Houston, Woodie Guthrie, Pete Seeger. I had come to the awareness that Andrew Sullivan apparently came to. His blog says “no party or clique”. My remark then, and since, was that I had access to cliques. In, but not of.

There were cynics and responsible sorts at Exeter. I shuttled between and among. I had no religion. Racism was not a word I had ever heard.

When I was 17, I drove down to Virginia to Farmville, a bastion of segregation not far from Richmond. I ferreted out information on the problem. I am not sure why. I was interested I guess.

At Williams, there were some Black students, a handful. I never knew them. I did not get into a fraternity. Then I did.

In my sophomore year I was strongly alienated from the college and beginning for the first time to apply myself to studies. I ended up gravitating toward the interests of my roommates Phil McKean and Don Morse — Christian student stuff. I went farther. I ended up becoming consciously Christian. I ended up working at a place called Camp Rabbit Hollow in Winchester, NH.

There I met Beth Turner. She was from Chicago. She was Black. She wrote me a note that said she was falling in love with me. We got together. She was engaged. I had never felt freer than I did during that period. Something had happened to me in relation to my Christian faith, before coming to the camp. A liberating communion.

Everything that happened while I was at Rabbit Hollow was like floating on a different plane. Beth was a student at Grinnell.

The person behind the camp was the Rev. James Robinson — one of the great Americans of the 20th century.

When I got back to Williams, Beth and I corresponded. I am sure we skirted around the issue of continuing our relationship. But I felt I was too young to get married and I knew she was marriage-bound. We would remain friends, with little real communication, until her death.

The same year, it was now 1958, my fraternity refused to consider a West Indian. I protested. The head of the fraternity, now a history Professor at the college, told me if I felt that way I should leave. So I did. When I resigned it set off a small movement and was eventually part of the history of the abolition of fraternities at Williams.

I moved in with Bill Coffin who was the college chaplain. Some fraternity guys shot out the front window of the house. Coffin jokingly said, If you want Rose, he lives in the back.

Quite alienated from any thought of going into business or law, I ended up choosing to go to theological school and ended up at Union Theological Seminary in New York. I did not like it academically. It reminded me of a high school that I had never attended. My main contact with Black persons was with kids. There was Boyd Canton at Rabbit Hollow. My all time favorite. And kids from the children’s ward at the N. Y. State Psychiatric Institute where I worked as an attendant.

When I finished Union, I was married. We had our first child, Diana. John Collins urged me to join the Student Interracial Ministry. I did.

We went to Nashville and I was the assistant minister at the First Baptist Church (now Capitol Hill).

The minister was Kelly Miller Smith. Kelly was also head of the Nashville Christian Leadership Conference. I spent the summer working at the church and picketing H.G. Hill with folk like John Lewis, Diane Nash and others who became luminaries of the civil rights movement. Joe Carter from Brooklyn and I integrated the Holiday Inn after sitting in the restaurant for an hour or so.

Our best friend besides Kelly and Alice and Will Campbell and his family. was C. T. Vivian who used to come around and we would talk deep into the night. Jim Lawson would come in from Memphis to teach us nonviolence.

I mention this only to express my own surprise — the term racist never emerged all this time.

Back in Chicago, I worked and got to know folk like Dick Gregory and Jim Flagg. With Renewal Magazine, which I founded and edited, I did what I could to support the civil rights movement.

In 1966 I spent the better part of a year in Geneva at the World Council of Churches where I did work on international development and what people now call liberation theology. Down the hall was my friend Beth Kipligat who has played a major role in church and government in Kenya.

I suppose my shell of naivete — I would prefer to call it something else but I have no word for it (Beth’s word when she wrote her note was “color blind”) — was broken when Oscar McCloud, a Black colleague from seminary and later the Presbyterian Church, suggested that we call a session at a Consultation on Church Union meeting in Atlanta in 1968.

At our rump meeting, I proposed reparations as a means of inducing Protestant denominations to get rid of their assets and unite and also to support Black development. I was summarily told by the next speaker, Mance Jackson, that I should not be stating an agenda for Blacks. I have a holographic mind and that was all it took to show me the future.

We had entered a time of ideological hardening in which the notion of beloved community that had been at least considered in Nashville was replaced by Black Power and a ton of posturing all around. When I asked Oscar what had happened, he brushed it off.

Well, I had my agenda and I followed it, even as — a week later — Jim Forman announced and championed the Black Manifesto which turned the reparations issue to a direct confrontation with churches. Ironically the only major contribution to the Black Economic Development Conference came from the Massachusetts UCC under the direction of Avery Post. I was asked to help him facilitate the gift.

Incredible, when I look back. Incredible too that Union Theological Seminary managed to hold a recent meeting on reparations with nothing on the program to suggest this chapter in American church history had ever occurred.

After 1969, we were deep into an era of posturing and rhetoric and balkanization. I watched people like Michael Novak and Richard Neuhaus sidle ever more to the right. I watched the Democratic Party learn to feed at a common trough with the Republicans.

The friendships I made with Blacks were with artists like Ron Fair, a novelist, and — for a brief and significant time — with science fiction author Samuel R. (Chip) Delany — and singer Bev Rolher. A few islands of normality in the balkanized wasteland of our common broken dreams. I became a house husband and wrote more books.

Yes, I had cried before my family when Martin was shot. And after corresponding with Bob Kennedy to urge him to run in 1966, and discussing it with him by mail from Geneva, the only communication I got in 1968 was a telegram inviting me to his funeral. I did not go.

I did not go to the March on Washington. Or Woodstock for that matter. I have never been into such “history”.

I need not continue. Suffice to say that now the gates have reopened.

The problem Barack addressed on Tuesday is still with us.

When I was in Boston in the 90s I was a member of Charles Stith’s Methodist Church — predominately Black. I could not even induce Jim Crawford, the minister at Old South Church, a Union Seminary classmate, to get his congregation to join ours around the reflecting pool after church some Sunday to sing Jacob’s Ladder.

That is how bad things were and are.

Beth died too young.

She had become a foreign service officer after mothering some wonderful kids, marrying, divorcing and then marrying an Ethiopian American who died, leaving her a widow in the 80s.

I saw her then, at a time when I was divorced. She was about to enter the Foreign Service. I was earning a bit writing for a family friend. We might have gotten together again but I think she did not want to deal with the disruption of her life that would have occurred. And I have no idea what would have happened.

When I learned of her death, I tried to find and contact her kids. I finally did find one online and sent an email. There was no reply. I have no idea if it ever got to its destination.

Oddly, there is nothing more important to me than the sense of unity of people. And I do mean unity of Black and white. I do not see my life as a poster life for anything. I have been fortunate to have run across Jim Robinson, John School Merchant and Emmet Turner — and Beth and Don Benedict and Garry Oniki and Ken Vallis.

Finally everyone I regard as noble and good blends together. My snobby mother may have had a point when she solved the race problem with the flourishing notion that we would eventually all breed ourselves gray.

Life goes on. I will be 72 in May.

I think Barack should appoint Huckabee our Ambassador to the Court of St. James — or maybe France.

I hope Beth is somewhere watching. She is from Barack’s neighborhood and so too is my Jewish atheist wife who is the most saintly person I know.

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barack obama, stephen c. rose

I Was In Lincoln Park in 1968 & I’m Here Now

About | Popular |Superdelegates | Predictions | Polls | Game

Here’s a short — slightly revised — note I posted today on the Obama Blog. For what it’s worth, as they say.

I was in Lincoln Park in 1968 when Daley’s police broke up an impromptu worship service where I gave a brief talk. I was 32 at the time and a younger guy came forward and started railing at my relatively peaceful statements. A woman well over thirty stepped into the circle and addressed him — Why don’t you kill us now?

Now all the people who were there are MUCH older or no longer with us. But what has changed? We managed to get Richard Nixon as we would not vote for Humphrey after Gene McCarthy was licked at the convention.


Politics became a win-win situation as Republicans and Democrats fed at the same lobbying trough in DC.

We are now paying the price of a politics that has filled our jails to overflowing, created a mortgage bubble that can drain everyone of their “wealth” and earned an international reputation that is execrable. In this sense Jeremiah Wright was more correct than he knew.

But I know also, from my own days at Union Theological Seminary and my familiarity with many things related to American churches and politics, that that Wright’s “g-d damn” statement will not be properly seen as a prophetic denunciation, but as a simple and mindless curse. And that that will sit with the populace — just as the swiftboat and willie horton stuff did. We are in many respects a know-nothing people.

The only antidote is, as Barack says, to get past it. If we get past it we win. If not our time is not yet. It is our effort and our present character that will tell.

Finally in the matter of crossovers — there are three reasons Republicans cross over and we would need more precise polling to know which is the main one. 1. To help Hillary be the nominee and beat her in the general election. 2. To help Hillary be the nominee and then work for an “unbeatable” Clinton-Obama ticket and 3. to support Barack.

Our biggest allies are the math, Barack’s steadiness and the actual strength, scope and positive character and unity of our movement.

And oddly enough, despite the best efforts of Sean Hannity, Rupert Murdoch and all the others who wish to make a mountain out of a molehill, skewering Jeremiah Writght as a hater on the basis of selected excerpts from talks and sermons, the Obama campaign moves along. Superdelegates coming aboard. Delegates being added from California and Iowa. And ever more desperate efforts by the Clinton campaign to maintain their position as part of the wealthy establishment that want her to be President. The Obama forces know this is a battle and the battle is being waged with open eyes and with a degree of understanding and purpose that should make any who are undecided think about the Obama alternative.

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Obama Blog

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About Stephen C. Rose Home

Huffington Post Page | My Books | Bonhoeffer’s Ghost | The Way of Abba

>This is a personal blog which offers hopefully prescient information and insight based on analysis of past and present happenings. Predictive themes include the end of oil, the need for a centrist politics, the collapse of the “mainline” church, the prospects for religious enterprises and, most pertinently, the question of human settlements — their shape and scope.

As of Nov. 6, 2008, I completed an almost daily concentration on the Obama campaign. Now I am in a holding pattern of sorts. Part of me tends toward a return to a UN relationship and I am making some effort in that direction. If that is not in the cards, I will decide a direction, which could include what I am doing now — following and hopefully anticipating issues related to the unfolding real work to which the campaign pointed.

I am also engaged in an effort to transfer many texts I have written or found (public domain) into Kindle Books. I believe the future of paper is limited and that digital readers like Kindle will become standard.

About Me I’m a 72 year old born and raised New Yorker living on the island where I was born. I have always made my living writing, thinking and composing. I believe music is among the most profound therapies. I believe in self-analysia based on some principles of Assagioli’s psychosynthesis. I practice guidance and goal-setting. More.

I see the Web as the environment for the completion of this phase of history — which is essentially the proliferation of discourse that Foucault anticipated and described. Sometimes it is tendentious, sometimes obscene, sometimes disconnected, but it all has to come out. As Jesus suggested, there is nothing that will not eventually be revealed.

Let me close this by simply suggesting my viewpoint on the themes I care about:

Sustainable human settlements: We are at the end of the oil-car dominance of the economy and have the opportunity to design and create new human settlements that do not depend on oil or the car.

Religion: We are at the end of religion. The Web environment will hopefully engender a spirituality that is based on nonidolatry, tolerance, democracy and helpfulness.

Politics: The Obama phenomenon is simply the massive urge for a triumph of reason and common sense in politics. For democracy to work there must be consensus. Obama has been a consensus creator. We need to move into an era of global reason and progress. The US will lead to the extent that it creates an economy that is post-oil and post-car. Green collar creation of integral human settlements where most everything you need to live (schools, first aid, shops, pueblo dwellings, recreation, etc.) is within walking distance. Where High tech meets Christopher Alexander’s pattern language.

Violence: Life is a spectrum between Jaws of Hell and the apprehension of Heaven. To ignore either is to be most naive. Jaws of Hell are principalities and powers that have a completely human origin and deleterious human results. The jaws of hell open whenever power is corrupted, all the way from the top to the dregs of the world. Responsibility relates to where one stands in this spectrum. We need more and more to see that the heavenly is attainable because the vision of its attainment is part of the spectrum of consciousness of each individual.

Homicide: The worst crime one can commit is to deny the fundamental freedom and dignity of any individual to make decisions that affect that individual’s destiny. Social and individual injustice relates precisely to the degree of freedom or necessity that exists for any person or group. In essence this mandates a politics which cherishes human rights and rejects any thinking that would abridge the right of any individual to say no.


Born in NYC, attended Oberlin & Trinity Schools, then Exeter and Williams (Phi Beta Kappa 1958). Worked with the Reverend James Robinson, finished Union Theological Seminary in NYC (1961). Joined Student Interracial Ministry in Nashville. Founded Renewal Magazine in Chicago, served The Christian Century and Christianity Crisis magazines. Covered civil rights in Oxford, Birmingham and Selma. Interviewed Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X. My book The Grass Roots Church had impact on the ecumenical movement. Have authored some 15 books, been a house-husband and father of three wonderful (grown) children. I have written published music choral and popular. Most recently I served in UN agencies including UNICEF in NYC and edited CHOICES which was the flagship magazine of UNDP. This solo blog seeks to revive the better elements of the 1960s and warns against the dangers that can rise during times of intense change. In terms of readership and potential influence, it reaches beyond any book or article circulation I’ve ever had.

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Obama Blog

“Abba’s Way” states: Unprecedented would be Jesus stating today what he was, and is, about.
Description of “Abba’s Way” (2006) | Purchase “Abba’s Way”

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Books and Other Texts By Stephen C. Rose

Huffington Post Page | Bonhoeffer’s Ghost | The Way of Abba

My editor at Holt, Rinehart and Winston, the late William Robert Miller, helped me to publish The Grass Roots Church (1966). It went through several printings in hard cover and as an Abingdon Press paperback. A critical discussion can be found here.

The most sympathetic critic was Gabriel Vahanian, of Syracuse, who became a friend. More on Gabriel Vahanian.

The complete text of The Grass Roots Church has been returned to me and is presently being revised and incorporated in the new text Bonhoeffer’s Ghost, a work in progress. It is also available as a Kindle Book.

Other books written in the 1960s included Who’s Killing The Church? and Alarms and Visions.

The real problem with all of these pre-1968 books is that they had little theological foundation. I recognized this when I moved with my family to Stockbridge almost directly from the tear-gas fields of Chicago’s Lincoln Park, where the phalanx of Mayor Daley’s police appearing above an eastern ridge after I had delivered a brief homily to assembled innocents, remains a dreamlike memory of that political season.

I found Terry Southern’s description of this event here and reprint a salient paragraph below:

Tonight’s scene at the park was certainly the strangest yet. About one hundred priests were there, having earlier announced that they would conduct an all-night religious service. A large cross (about ten feet high) had been erected, and several fires burned nearby. The pattern of events was identical to what had transpired on the previous evenings. Only the presence of the cross, after the smoke and tear gas came rolling in, slowly engulfing it, lent the spectacle an unreal and cinematic quality. As we fled from the park, I witnessed a curious incident, near the lake. A young boy on a bicycle, of apparently no connection whatever with the demonstration, was peddling along the outer path, past six or eight police who were stationed there. They grabbed the bicycle and pushed it and the boy into a lagoon, laughing uproariously the while. By chance a photographer was standing not fifty feet away, and he got a picture of it, published the following day (Wednesday, the 29th) in The Chicago Daily News.

Once I got to Stockbridge, it remained to actually challenge the Protestant establishment around the issue of race and reparations, which I and others did via a campaign in 1969 called Jonathan’s Wake.

This was sufficiently abrasive to pretty much end prospects of a career within the Protestant church fold, even though I was offered both a PhD at Princeton and an editorial post on Theology Today within weeks of my move to Stockbridge. I turned it down mainly because we had just moved and I could not really consider an immediate re-uprooting.

The same folk who were wanting to more or less sponsor me into a position of some gravitas in 1968 came forth and encouraged me to apply to become Editor of The Christian Century in the early 70s when I was putting life and limb together as a writer on The Berkshire Eagle.

At this I jumped — but with profound ambivalence and consummate naivete. The ambivalence came because my then-wife had no interest in moving back to Chicago, the magazine’s home. I pursued the post with no sense that my family would move if I got it.

Also, I failed to perceive that people I had wounded by my published criticism and my ecclesiastical activism in Detroit would not be silent in opposition to my becoming the Century editor.

I remember calling Martin Marty, a Century fixture, and asking him why I should apply and he basically indicated that the magazine needed substantial improvement and that I was the man.

I had written a long, widely-distributed and reprinted piece on the community organizer Saul Alinsky (Saul Alinsky and His Critics, Christianity and Crisis) This incurred the undying emnity of the then-editor Harold Fey, because the article had shown that, whatever else Alinsky might be, he was hardly what Fey claimed he was.

When I launched Jonathan’s Wake at the National Council of Churches’ assembly at Cobo Hall, Detroit, in December 1969, one of our actions was to propose that the President of the NCC be an African American minister-theologian named Leon Watts — who eventually ended up teaching at Yale Divinity School.

The person we were opposing for this was a prominent exponent of voluntarism named Cynthia Wedel. She was also a prominent member of the Christian Century’s board.

Jonathan’s Wake, widely covered in the press at the time, is not mentioned on the website of the National Council of Churches. Nor is it findable on the Web. Yet.

Nor was anything to do with the 1960s struggle around reparations even included in a recent Union Theological Seminary colloquium on that important subject. Collective amnesia regarding the institutional American Protestant church’s performance during this period is rife.

What would I have done as the Century editor, other than rescue a career? I would have begun to apply the theological understanding growing within to combat simplistic religion, fundamentalist-evangelical thinking and medicine-show techno-pop evangelical church development. I would have openly fought the submersion of the mainline and its reduction to theological impotence and shameless fragmentation.

I would not have followed the ordinary path of the Century which was essentially to circle the wagons and propound a social liberalism without serious confrontation with the growing dominance of fundamentalism, the very source of the depradations of both the Reagan and Bush eras.

The whole thing wasted me. The interview process and the endgame left me without a smile for a full year. And that for me was unheard of.

It was a slow crucifixion that I had understood, at some subliminal stratum, would be the result of Jonathan’s Wake.

Proposing that the denominations cede their endowments (to be used for fighting poverty and racism) in order to pave the way for their unification was deemed immature. It would in fact have worked. But so too would Jesus’s exhortations to follow the Beatitudinal way. But for the reality of priesthoods and state power.

Music became my means of elevation from depression. I plunged deeper and deeper into the synoptic narrative itself. Via songs.

I turned the Gospel of Mark into song and the Rev. Pam Moffat acted as my Aaron by eventually involving thousands of kids from all over in singing this gospel. I concluded that values were what was missing from the debate about church renewal.T

Jesus represented a bedrock iconoclasm that led to the espousal of three subsidiary values: democracy as universal human rights, helpfulness as reciprocal, non-paternalistic enablement, and tolerance, understanding that there are too many truths to allow for human judgment to be more than proximate.

Early in the 70s, in the wake of Nixon’s encouragement of homilies in the Executive Mansion, I wrote Sermons Not Preached in the White House. I was surprised that the book was treated seriously by The New Republic, a magazine I had once worked at as a teenager during 1954, when Joe McCarthy was unravelling toward censure under my watchful eye in the then-accessable Senate press gallery. It was basically a recital of reasonable political positions that were anathema to the rising conservative clans whose conservatism would prove to have feet of clay, being the engine which eventually brought us the War on Terror as lex talionis.

I also co-wrote with my first wife Lois The Shattered Ring: Science Fiction and The Quest for Meaning. I had little interest in its subject. The book did lead to week spent with Samuel R. Delany, one of the great practitioners of SF, at Ghost Ranch in New Mexico.

At Ghost Ranch I started to sing.

By the close of the 1970s the theological development that I sought in moving to Stockbridge had matured and it remained for a nail to be hammered into its center.

That nail proved to be Jonestown. My book Jesus and Jim Jones is really the most significant of all my “earlier” published works. Short and pungent, it essentially spells out the dangers of messianism and the impossibility of messianism as the basis for a theology that is resonant with what Jesus proclaimed.

Given the plethora of material published on Jonestown, my thesis is but one of many attempts to understand what happened. I believe it is the most salient and worthy of continued attention.

In the early 1980s I my marriage disintegrated (amicably but definitively) and I set out on a major wander which eventually led me to some periods of extended writing with no intent to publish anything. I created a novel called Markman which was eventually turned into a film script that has never been seriously submitted. It is based on the Gospel of Mark and takes place in the Las Vegas area. I also wrote a closely reasoned theological essay which had various titles over time and has now been released in a somewhat aphoristic form as Beyond Creed: From Religion to Spirituality.

The one time I submitted this manuscript a quarter century ago, I received a plaintive put-down from an editor in church precincts who more or less said I should prepare to be burned at the stake. Even my friend Will Campbell pretty much agreed that it was heresy.

Once I got online and cyberspace became my essential home and window for viewing reality, I gave up writing books. Until I encountered a sort of intellectual renaissance. For whatever reason, perhaps it was my wife Kathy (I have had two marriages, each of 20 years, as I write) giving me a copy of Bloom’s Genius, I began to re-read Shakespeare, and then to delve into Nietzsche, even going off to Sils-Maria a while back just to get some sense of what this lonely soul was seeing.

The encounter with Nietzsche led to a spontaneous writing that I published early this year as Abba’s Way and empowered the publication of Beyond Creed, after all these years.

I also brought out a novel called Panflick: The Boston Car Wars which is I believe as good as some good Terry Southern, Panflick being a sort of successor to the redoubtable Guy Grand.

Since paper is going out of fashion and its cost is driving newspapers to bankruptcy, I have become convinced that the future of the printed word is Kindle-ward. Kindle is simply one among several devices for storing and reading books, newspapers, blogs and magazines. With that in mind I have created Kindle books of much that I have written and even moved into reproducing public domain works in editions designed for consumption by Kindle owners. My Kindle page offers links to the books I have placed on the Amazon Kindle site. And here’s a direct link to my very own Kindle Page. GO.


Jesus and Jim Jones | Grass Roots Church | Alarms & Visions | Who’s Killing The Church? | Development Apocalypse|

Included among my Kindle books is the second in a series of Panflick novellas, The Manhattan Bully Wars.

grass roots church
stephen c. rose
bonhoeffer’s ghost

sonnets, stephen c. rose

Being does not lie being gives truth

Being does not lie being gives truth
In all that happens all that is in all
And since there is no way to know the all
Whether for failing sight or stunted scope
We wrongly choose to say being is life
And life is our to be or not to be
But when some cell shifts past our borderlines
Or winds arise beyond our space and time
Or veins within us alter in their flow
Or life outgrows a sock or drops of rain
Precurse tsunamis whose results are like
The ripples of a pebble’s lakeward fall
We soon are lost in such complexity
That being is not anything but all
And all the gifts that all creates always

By Stephen C. Rose (9 November 2006)