John Deane-O’Keeffe

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The Revd John Deane-O’Keeffe is a recently-ordained Minister in the Reformed Episcopal Church (Anglican) and is church planting in Dublin City Centre from September whilst also ministering in the UK. John lectures in criminology and theology at the University of Oxford and tries to love all denominations and none. He advises that he too read that bit in the Bible.

Just to Let You Know: Christ Just Joined My Political Movement

Christian Nationalism has given God a political makeover. I doubt he’s happy with the new look, says John Deane-O’Keeffe Recently, I was doing some whinging...

The Lindsay Clancy Effect: Mercy Begins Where Deserving Ends

Should Christians condemn terrible acts whilst still extending compassion to the person who committed them, asks John Deane-O’Keeffe It was once sung that ‘words don’t...

Trump, Tribes, and True Believers

In an age of political silos, we might have more in common than we think, says John Deane-O’Keeffe After the Gazette’s short summer break, I...

Confessions of a Recovering Denominationalist

Now, not a lot of people know this (and why would they), but there are some 300 major Christian denominations in the United States...

Wherever I Lay My Hat? That’s My Home

Now, I know this might sound a bit flash, but back in the day I owned two houses in France (one house might be...

Powered for Orbit

M y current wife says that I need to see my psychiatrist (again) about my ability to bury myself in my phone and engage my...

Running Out of Time?

Anyone got the time, I wonder? I suppose it depends. If you are 13 years of age (are you really reading this magazine at...

Addiction is the Solution — Not the Problem

Growing up I was very afraid of alcohol — until I wasn’t. My view on the whole thing was quite simple. People who drank...

From Parents to Parodies

Parents are odd, aren’t they? Not us, of course — I mean every other parent. Mine were probably right up there. Father generally held...

The Gentle Grace of Christmas Past

I’m not sure you ever really recover from seeing your father become part of a Christmas tree. Let me explain.  It was Christmas Eve 1975....

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