the YALE LOGOS
an undergraduate journal of Christian thought.
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Liturgies of Healing
May 27, 2022 | Maria Copeland, JMU ‘22
What chronic illness and an extraordinary case study taught me about physical healing and spiritual formation.
Clarity in Psychological Healing: A Conversation with Professor Elizabeth Mancuso
January 20, 2022 | Hannah Turner BK ‘23+1
Life is inherent to our being. While rich with opportunities for great love, life is also rich with the possibility of great hurt. In this life, it is natural for people to distinguish such experiences as good or bad—often honoring one and desiring to stray from the other. This is exemplified in interpersonal relationships, from those between husband and wife to between two children at school. Society today seems to concentrate on the moments of great love but encourages passing by great hurt as quickly as possible. There is no time spent validating feelings, or addressing the why behind negative sentiments—especially for men. The field of psychology, however, recognizes the nuance in these situations while maintaining the importance of attending to problems that may arise.
Why We Don’t Say What We Mean
January 20, 2022 | By Serena Puang DC ‘22+1
I grew up in Arkansas, but for most of the last eight months, I’ve lived with my aunt and grandma in Taiwan. This lent itself to more than a few moments of culture shock and miscommunication. For the first two months, I felt like no one at church or in my ballroom dancing club wanted to be my friend. I would say hi and try to make conversation, but it always felt one sided.
These interactions led me to conclude that Taiwanese people, in general, were not friendly. After all, if a new person had showed up at my church/school/club meeting, I would never treat them that way. Was there something wrong with me? What was I doing that was putting people off?
Numbers Be Damned
January 20, 2022 | By Shi Wen Yeo MC ‘23
Memory is like a haze that gradually sharpens into focus as one grows up. One of my earliest, albeit haziest, memories is of Saturday afternoons when I was nine years old. For any child that age, Saturday afternoons were synonymous with pee-wee baseball games, time spent hanging from tree castles or playing in the sand. For me, Saturday afternoons were the longest afternoons of the week. Instead of basking in the gentle sunshine, I spent those afternoons suffocated by harsh, luminous lights that dangled from the ceilings of my “tuition center.” And I was not the only one.
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