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

Heart and Soul, A Theological Exploration of Psychotherapy

Although I work full time as the lead pastor of a local church, with both an M.Div and a D.Min under my belt, I recently enrolled clinical counseling program through Tyndale University in Toronto. There is a bit of a long story behind this statement. When I left my previous ministry post I didn’t yet know where the Lord was going to lead me next, or even if he wanted me to continue in pastoral ministry at all, so I signed up to get trained as a psychotherapist, thinking it would be a good fit for me, should I discern that my days as a pastor were truly over.

As God would have it, my next ministry assignment opened up sooner than I expected, and I started pastoring another church—the church I currently serve at—before I had even completed one course in my degree. I still saw a great deal of benefit in completing my training as a therapist, however, so I rolled back my course load to parttime studies and started doing both: pastoring a church fulltime and earning a degree in counseling on the side.

Though it has been a challenge to balance the demands of church life and my studies at the same time, I have found this training to be indispensable to my work as a pastor. Even if I don’t ever go into clinical practice (the jury’s still out on that question), the things I have already learned about neuroscience, personality, emotional systems and psychopathology have helped make me a more effective pastor. Over the next few months at terra incognita, I intend to explore how, in a series that I’m calling "Heart and Soul, A Theological Exploration of Psychotherapy." I hope to share some of the things I’m learning in my studies, on the one hand, but also to discuss important connections between pastoral work and psychotherapy, on the other.

As just a sample of what some of those connections might look like, let me share a few thoughts about a book we read in a course on psychopathology I took this spring. It was called Blossoms in the Desert, and it was written by a psychiatrist named Dr. Thomas Choy, drawing on his many decades of experience as the head psychiatrist of a schizophrenia program in a Toronto hospital. Although Choy is a person of faith, his book is not explicitly Christian, rather it is focused on the “success stories” he has experienced with schizophrenia patients over the years, exploring what contributed to their success and encouraging people to reimagine what treatment for the severely mentally ill might look like.

What stood out to me as a pastor, however, was the emphasis Choy places on the role of hope in a schizophrenia patient’s recovery. Choy is not speaking about hope here in the Christian eschatology sense of the word—the final hope of redemption to eternal life that is ours in Christ. He is speaking more narrowly about the tenacious hope for recovery that seems to have played such a key role in the many success stories he has personally witnessed. Choy defines hope simply as “the expectation that what we choose today will affect what happens tomorrow,” and he suggests that it is this kind of hope that motivates patients to make the kind of choices that will result in their wellness rather than choices that will deepen their unwellness.

Choy offers some approaches to treatment that encourage this kind of hope in particular: using a strengths-based paradigm for treatment, helping patients make meaning out of their experience, and defining recovery not in terms of “being healed from mental illness” but in terms of discovering a new way of to live as a person with mental illness. If we only focus on the magnitude and severity of what is lost through mental illness, he argues, it can only lead to hopelessness and despair. Real life-transformation can happen, though, when we redefine what recovery means and reframe what it looks like.

Because I read Choy’s book as a pastor, as much as I did as a student of psychotherapy, I found myself resonating deeply with his definition of hope and the role it plays in helping people recover from severe mental illness. If hope really is an “expectation that what we choose today will affect what happens tomorrow”—even if that’s not the whole of what hope is, but only a part of it—then this kind of outlook is probably just as important for the mentally well person as it is for the mentally ill.

Oftentimes in Christian circles, our definition of hope is more deus ex machina than this, a mere blind trust that God’s gonna make it all work out; that Christ will return and take us home before the world becomes unlivable, or if we should die before that day, then the Lord will keep our souls safe and sound in heaven with him, when we do. And I’m sure there is some merit to this way of conceiving of hope. In the end our hope is in God and not in our own hard effort.

However, it is quite possible, and even pretty helpful, to adapt Choy’s definition of hope in a way that aligns very well with a Christian hope. Because, there is a profoundly Christian way of defining hope as the “expectation that what we choose today will affect what happens tomorrow.” All it takes is to acknowledge that, theologically speaking, the Lord Jesus sets the human will free, enabling it to choose to love and serve him, and inasmuch as this is a genuine freedom, our choice of him can be said to be a genuine choice. Even though it begins with God, and is empowered by God, and is brought through to completion in God, still, once God has taken the gracious initiative like this, our response is freely chosen.

So is our choice to pray, or worship, or witness, or meditate on the Word, or any other of the myriad of things that Christians do as an expression of their faith. And as far as I can tell from the Scriptures, these things really do have an affect on what happens tomorrow, because these are the means by which God ordained that we would grow in the things of Christ and he would accomplish his purposes in our lives.

In this way, hope is not just for the schizophrenia patient—though it is absolutely vital for the schizophrenia patient—but it is equally vital for all of us. Because what steps of devotion and commitments of discipleship would we make, if we really believe that God would use those steps, and honor those commitments, to make a difference in the world?

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