Books by Dale Harris

Books by Dale Harris
A Feast of Epiphanies

Though I Walk, A Novel

Daytime Moons and Other Celestial Anomalies, a book of poems

Second Wind

Second Wind
An album of songs both old and new. Recorded in 2021, a year of major transition for me, these songs explore the many vicissitudes of the spiritual life,. It's about the mountaintop moments and the Holy Saturday sunrises, the doors He opens that no one can close, and those doors He's closed that will never open again. You can click the image above to give it a listen.

The Song Became a Child

The Song Became a Child
A collection of Christmas songs I wrote and recorded during the early days of the pandemic lockdown in the spring of 2020. Click the image to listen.

There's a Trick of the Light I'm Learning to Do

This is a collection of songs I wrote and recorded in January - March, 2020 while on sabbatical from ministry. They each deal with a different aspect or expression of the Gospel. Click on the image above to listen.

Three Hands Clapping

This is my latest recording project (released May 27, 2019). It is a double album of 22 songs, which very roughly track the story of my life... a sort of musical autobiography, so to speak. Click the album image to listen.

Ghost Notes

Ghost Notes
A collections of original songs I wrote in 2015, and recorded with the FreeWay Musical Collective. Click the album image to listen.

inversions

Recorded in 2014, these songs are sort of a chronicle of my journey through a pastoral burn-out last winter. They deal with themes of mental-health, spiritual burn-out and depression, but also with the inexorable presence of God in the midst of darkness. Click the album art to download.

soundings

soundings
click image to download
"soundings" is a collection of songs I recorded in September/October of 2013. Dealing with themes of hope, ache, trust and spiritual loss, the songs on this album express various facets of my journey with God.

bridges

bridges
Click to download.
"Bridges" is a collection of original songs I wrote in the summer of 2011, during a soul-searching trip I took out to Alberta; a sort of long twilight in the dark night of the soul. I share it here in hopes these musical reflections on my own spiritual journey might be an encouragement to others: the sun does rise, blood-red but beautiful.

echoes

echoes
Prayers, poems and songs (2005-2009). Click to download
"echoes" is a collection of songs I wrote during my time studying at Briercrest Seminary (2004-2009). It's called "echoes" partly because these songs are "echoes" of times spent with God from my songwriting past, but also because there are musical "echoes" of hymns, songs or poems sprinkled throughout the album. Listen closely and you'll hear them.

Accidentals

This collection of mostly blues/rock/folk inspired songs was recorded in the spring and summer of 2015. I call it "accidentals" because all of the songs on this project were tunes I have had kicking around in my notebooks for many years but had never found a "home" for on previous albums. You can click the image to download the whole album.

Random Reads

Eating, Praying, Loving (Part VI): On Being What You Eat

<<< previous post

I don’t really think about myself as a “fad dieter.” Certainly when I was young, at that stage of life where many of our eating habits get ingrained in us, I ate pretty much what I wanted, when I wanted; and, having inherited my dad’s metabolism, I’ve never really had to worry much about the outcome. That said, as I was planning out this series on the biblical spirituality of food, it occurred to me that I have actually experimented with a wide range of unusual diets over the years. It surprised me, somewhat, to realize this.

When I was a poor University student I discovered 101 ways to prepare Ichiban noodles, and there’s a period in the middle of my second year where all I had in the cupboard was 2 weeks worth of this miracle food. But that of course, was by necessity, not by choice.

The first real “diet” I went on was in my mid-twenties, when my wife and I ate strictly vegan for approximately 2 years. Later this shifted to a vegetarian diet (so I could have cheese and milk). Some time later still, I read Michael Pollan’s book In Defense of Food and tried the Michael Pollan Diet for a while, which to this day I still think of as one of the healthiest diets going: eat food, not to much, mostly plants (especially greens). It’s simple and catchy, though it didn’t last. I went back to eating vegetarian for a while (it’s actually my preferred way of eating, though it’s hard to maintain), and then described myself as a ”flexitarian” and ate some meat on a periodic basis. I’ve told the story of how a visit to the naturopath last year had me eating a variation of the keto diet (high protein, low carbs) for about 6 months, and though I felt amazing on this diet, I found it really hard to do consistently.

So from vegan to vegetarian to keto to Ichiban, I’ve been all over the map when it comes to diets.

I should state it clearly, though, that these diets were never really fads for me, and certainly never to lose weight or salve a poor body image. Truth be told, every time I’ve ever experimented with a specialized diet I was motivated almost entirely by a concern for my physical health. I'd heard that veganism would improve energy levels and maintain good health; I was told that a little animal protein in the diet was good for you; my naturopath told me that carbing up in the morning was causing me to crash in the afternoon, and so on. Each of these diets have had a positive impact, I think, on my overall sense of well-being, though whether that’s because of their real nutritional value or mere placebo effect, I can’t say.

What I can say is that I've learned from experience that our health really is connected intricately to our diets, and a change in the one really can effect a change in the other. This point may seem so obvious that it goes without saying; hasn’t your mother been telling you all your life to eat your vegetables cause you are what you eat?

But from a biblical perspective, I think it needs saying, however obvious it may sound. One of the reasons to pay attention to our food, besides all the reasons I’ve offered already, is that simply put: eating well makes us emotionally and physically healthy; and the healthier we are the more good for the Kingdom of God we will be. This is why, I think, that in the midst of all kinds of lofty theological claims about the trustworthiness of the Gospel, and all kinds of detailed instructions on how to order the worship life of the community, Paul gives his young protégé Timothy this all-too practical advice in 1 Timothy 5:23. “Oh yeah,” he says: “Stop drinking only water and use a little wine because of your stomach and frequent illnesses.” There’s probably some back story behind this dietary directive that we’re missing, but whatever else it means, it suggests that a good servant of the Lord will take care to take care of himself, when it comes to his food choices.

In theological terms, the concept we are touching on here is called “stewardship.” “Stewardship” refers to the truth that everything that is—the whole of creation in fact—belongs solely and exclusively to God. Our time, our treasure, our talent, our possessions, our property, it’s all really his, and if we can lay any claim to it at all, it’s only as a steward, holding it in trust for the real owner, to whom we will give our account in the end. The theological basis for a Christian view of stewardship comes primarily from the creation account of Genesis 1, where God makes the world and then entrusts it into our care, though it is a concept often present in the teaching of Jesus and the church’s understanding of the Second Coming.

We don’t usually think about our physical bodies as belonging to the Lord, one more thing he has entrusted to us to steward well, but biblically it is very clear that the New Testament writers saw it this way. “You are not your own,” Paul said, “therefore honor God with your body.” If this idea is taken to its logical end, we would have to conclude that even our physical health is a gift from God and we are stewards of it, just as much as we are stewards of God’s money, God’s resources, and God’s property.

From a biblical perspective, then, we could say that healthy eating is simply a matter of good stewardship. We eat properly to steward our health so that we are better able to serve the Lord well throughout our lives.

In saying this, I want to offer a disclaimer or two, though. I’m not saying here that you have to be healthy in order to serve God well. I have seen some amazing prayer warriors and faithful servants of the Lord serve him devoutly while going through very serious and very real health crises—but even there, I would suggest, that one of the ways they have done so is by stewarding their health as well as they could as they went through it.

The other disclaimer is just to acknowledge that it is possible to become so focused on the food we eat that we cease to be servants of God at all, because we’re giving our diets all the attention that should go to him. For this concern, see my previous post on the dangers of making a god out of our stomach.

But even given those two disclaimers, I think the point still stands, and probably deserves more consideration in the North American Christian Church than it gets.  I don't know if healthy eating needs to rate up there with reading your Bible, praying everyday, but certainly if we want to "grow, grow, grow" for the Kingdom's sake and for God's glory, we would do well to give some thought to how we're feeding the body, while the soul is busy doing all that growing.

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