And Tell Us What You See

About the Book

And Tell Us What You See is a remarkable collection of articles he published during his retirement years over a ten year period in the 1990s with the Amsterdam, NY newspaper, The Recorder. As evidence of his willingness to explore complexity on the printed page, his articles are relevant to our day in that they take on the very issues that once were and continue to be the hallmark of the United States Episcopal Church and much of American culture, in general.

Fully human yet fully the Christian priest, Robert Haven here reveals remarkable ranges of passion regarding his loves, angers, faiths and doubts. As preacher and public speaker, par excellence, he was never one to shy away from controversy and so here, too, some of his work is political and some is religiously poetic. It is also occasionally contradictory from one page to the next. The fact is, he never claimed to have it all worked out theologically and when pressed in person on specific issues, he could wax eloquent, but could also just as easily be dismissive and silently keep his own counsel. But in these newspaper articles contained herein, there is no taking the “fifth amendment” as he opens up to us and explains his sometimes complex views. I think he ultimately felt, especially given his many years in church ministry, that he’d earned to right to speak as pastor to anyone who comes to him. He turns no one away. In this book, Father Haven engages our minds and allegiances as he attempts to provide some answers if not at least one meaning to his lifetime hero, Christ Jesus, his Lord.

About the Author

ROBERT MARSHALL HAVEN is a young artist with autism growing up in Poughkeepsie, NY who is also a Quaker. His work happens to charter new territories in the art community and has been well received at numerous art shows including at Nazareth College in Rochester, New York and at Mr. Musichead Art Gallery in Hollywood, California. RMH, as he is known through his website at RMH-Art.com, has work that is sometimes simplistic, sometimes pristine, sometimes a bit rough and tumble, if not complex, but it is always awe-inspiring. He has this way of filling things in that we haven’t seen before. He guides us, he holds our hand, he even sometimes sheds light on things that we ourselves would never imagine, as we may or may not catch a glimpse of his very specific, if not particular prism as perceived by his brilliantly bright and living eye.