On the way · En camino
Lectures, courses, conferences, and the places where a question changes shape in public.
A field of notes · Un campo de apuntes
Places of
Becoming.
Siendo al Andar
Why this page exists · Por qué existe esta página
A life is not a finished argument.
This is not a productivity log or a personal brand. It is a place for noticing how a public theological life is formed: through places, people, study, struggle, beauty, and the unfinished work of walking with others.
No es una bitácora de productividad ni una marca personal. Es un espacio para atender a cómo se va formando una vida teológica pública: entre lugares, personas, estudio, lucha, belleza y el trabajo inacabado de caminar con otras y otros.
What may appear here · Lo que puede aparecer aquí
Notes that resist being reduced to a résumé.
Not every entry will be polished. Each one will be offered with enough context to become a shared occasion for attention.
Encounter · Encuentro
Conversations with students, colleagues, strangers, and communities whose wisdom interrupts familiar certainties.
The world presses in · El mundo nos alcanza
Events, griefs, hopes, and questions that demand more than a quick opinion from faith.
Ordinary joy · Gozo cotidiano
A meal, a song, a landscape, a small delight, or a possibility that makes another future feel near.
Opening note · Nota inaugural
A page can begin before it is full.
This space will grow slowly. Its measure will not be frequency, but faithfulness to the people, places, and questions that make a different way of being Christian imaginable.
Este espacio crecerá despacio. Su medida no será la frecuencia, sino la fidelidad a las personas, los lugares y las preguntas que hacen imaginable otra manera de ser cristianos.
On the way · En camino
August 2026
A sermon on Elijah · 1 Kings 19
After the Fire · Después del fuego
Last Sunday, I was asked to preach on Elijah in 1 Kings 19. I was struck by how two locations disclose two sides of the prophet. Mount Carmel gives us Elijah as a prophet of fire. Mount Horeb reveals a wounded, exhausted, yet loyal servant of YHWH. Between them—and after them—lies a desert that must be crossed.
I called the sermon After the Fire. It followed four movements in Elijah’s life and, perhaps, in the lives of many of us who have embraced a vocation of defiance before crowds caught in imperial agendas: workers disciplined by utilitarian systems; scholars and pastors pressed into competitions of appearance, influence, and performance.
“The winner is alone” (Paulo Coelho).
In that economy, the winner makes fire come down from heaven and the loser disappears. But what follows Carmel is not simply a victory lap. It is a crisis: the desert, and then Horeb.
This sermon was emotionally taxing because it spoke, unmistakably, as much about me and my context as about Elijah. My own religious performance has been shaped by Carmel’s scene, however much that scene has been used—and abused.
El domingo pasado me pidieron predicar sobre Elías en 1 Reyes 19. Me impactó cómo dos lugares revelan dos rostros del profeta. El monte Carmelo nos muestra al profeta del fuego. El monte Horeb nos deja ver a un siervo de YHWH herido, agotado y, sin embargo, fiel. Entre ambos—y después de ambos—hay un desierto que debe cruzarse.
Llamé al sermón Después del fuego. En esa economía, quien gana hace descender fuego del cielo y quien pierde desaparece. Pero después del Carmelo no viene simplemente una vuelta de victoria, sino una crisis: el desierto y luego Horeb.
“El vencedor está solo” (Paulo Coelho).
Este sermón fue emocionalmente exigente porque habló, sin duda, tanto de mí y de mi contexto como de Elías. Mi propia performance religiosa ha sido formada por la escena del Carmelo, por más que esa escena haya sido usada—y abusada.
Where is my place of becoming right now: Carmel, the desert, Horeb, or outside the cave? And what about yours?
¿Cuál es hoy mi lugar de devenir: Carmelo, el desierto, Horeb o el afuera de la cueva? ¿Y cuál es el tuyo?