Author

James Patrick Riley

James Patrick Riley has 9 articles published.

James Patrick Riley
James Riley is the founder of Colony Bay Productions and the owner/manager of Riley's Farm in Oak Glen, California. James produced and directed the 18th century period Drama, "Courage, New Hampshire" which debuted nationally on INSP and can now be seen on public television. A graduate of Stanford University, James and his wife, Marylinn, have six children and five grandchildren.

Seven Rules For Christian Battle

in Culture/Politics by

My people are generally conservatives, church-goers, traditionalists and home-schoolers, the sort of people who fear God and fold their underwear neatly — which means they are usually idiots on the political battle field. There are different standards, my gentle Christian friends, for warfare, courtrooms, and political elections.  You had better learn them.  Your enemies — as WikiLeaks and James O’Keefe have made clear — are willing to lie about you, question your motives, and bring the full weight of the law down against you, even if you’ve done nothing wrong.  Anyone who has watched Debbie Wasserman Schultz speak, for even five minutes, knows she is quite willing not only to spin, but to lie through her teeth, yet some of you nice folk think your enemies will respond to kindness and reason.  How many ambassadors have to be killed, how many bribes have to be taken, how many “tough” oversight hearings must that nice Jason Chaffetz youngster conduct, without any real penalties being imposed, before you realize that you…

Keep Reading

Eating And Drinking The White House

in Culture/Politics by

Hey, isn’t it great that Albert Mohler, president of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, is getting so much time on MSNBC these days?  I imagine he’s really winning some hearts for Christ there among the Rachel Maddow fans and the people who miss Melissa Harris-Perry’s pro-abortion tampon earrings. Of course, any platform, even a tavern, can be used for Christ, but my question for Al would be: when are you going to start?  (As in, using it for something useful, that is.) Let’s be real, shall we?  Al Mohler won’t be getting as many TV appearances on MSNBC after the election, will he? Of course not. Al’s a brilliant man, but from their perspective, he’s presently fulfilling the role of useful evangelical idiot — the one who can be counted on to dutifully castigate both Hillary and Trump in a way that will only help Hillary. Of course, giving Al some credit, he thinks he’s preserving evangelical “credibility,” by attempting to sway the body of Christ away from both Hillary and Trump,…

Keep Reading

Paul Ryan’s Lady Failure

in Culture/Politics by

If, as a young man, you spent a fair amount of time in Sunday School (as I did) being educated by ladies, you might have found yourself rushing, Paul Ryan style, to their defense, only to find they didn’t really need it — or want it. You know how it goes. Some strutting, sandy-haired Norseman in a letterman’s jacket walks into the party and brazenly appraises the girl you’re trying to impress with your knowledge of Paul’s epistles. You can’t believe it. His eyes are doing an elevator from the breast to hips and back up to her eyes and then he says something you wouldn’t dream of saying in a million years, something like “those are some pretty bumps, girl.” The whole thing is so tasteless and vulgar and transparent, you grimace. “Hey, let’s keep it classy,” you say, and the girl puts her hand on your arm and coos a “thank you” in a way that makes you melt, but THEN, when the banty rooster walks away,…

Keep Reading

Fewer Professionals, Please

in Culture/Politics by

In the summer of 1769 the town of Boxford, Massachusetts was on edge. Jonathan Ames’ pretty young wife, Ruth, had taken ill, and when Mrs. Kimball, a neighbor, came to visit, Ruth’s mother-in-law claimed the odor coming from her chamber was too foul to admit visitors. Kimball nevertheless insisting on a visit, found the room agreeable, but her friend writhing in pain on the bed and foaming at the mouth. When the young woman died the next day, her body was buried quickly, attended by an out of town minister for a very small group of family, with no coroner examining her remains. Within days, the town was demanding an investigation and a formal accounting that by our standards would seem ghoulish. Gathering at the meeting house, after prayer, a jury of 25 citizens, 13 of whom were physicians, ordered the body to be exhumed, not just for the members of the medical profession, but for the whole town to see. The crowd was so immense, and the desire…

Keep Reading

An Army, Not An Audience

in Culture/Philosophy/Politics by

If your faith isn’t directing you to plant vineyards and guard them with the sword, it might not be faith at all. If you’ve ever nurtured an apple crop through to harvest, enduring heat waves, hailstorms, coddling moth infestations, and property taxes, only to see a family in a brand new SUV stealing apples during a pick-your-own visit, you might have some sense for why I write about God a lot. I know some people proceed straight to the justice question when they are wronged. They lawyer up. They make complaints. They take solace in a withering Yelp review. Me? I want to dig up the bitter root, the spiritual sickness, and burn it in the public square with a blow torch. I’m aching to know what went wrong with the American soul, to know why families could camp overnight in Central Park in the 19th century, but wouldn’t do that now without the help of a SWAT team. When I see a trunk full of stolen apples, gathered…

Keep Reading

Praise The Lord And Pass The Ammunition

in Culture/Philosophy/Politics by

The Pledge of Allegiance and Standing for the National Anthem are necessary and wholesome public rituals. We celebrate the house that shelters us, even as we strive to repair and restore it. I live in a very beautiful place with a fair amount of history attached to it, so when I had the opportunity to turn down both CBS and the NFL for a commercial shoot yesterday, it felt good. We received a breezy email from the CBS pre-production office outlining their 49ers / NFL promotion as follows: In 1849 there was a gold rush and people flocked to the west to strike it rich….100 years later, there was another gold rush when air travel enabled football teams to travel and play across the country…. Thanks so much! They wanted to use our farm, and our living history programs, to add a little Americana gold rush glow (and vintage gravitas) to their contemporary relationship with the NFL. We would provide the gold pans, the sluice box, and the bewhiskered…

Keep Reading

When Seeing Might Mean Nothing At All

in Politics by

You have had days like the one I’m having — the kind where you can’t seem to get the image of a rubbery-legged Hillary Clinton collapsing like a theme park Pooh bear with heat stroke into the bowels of a black van– scraping off a shoe as she goes. The Democratic nominee for the president of the United States had been turned into a wilting bean bag, and the grim-faced precision of the secret service didn’t make it any better. It made it far more disturbing; they were obviously accustomed to this pudgy, slack-faced paralysis of hers. (The boss, apparently, can become incapacitated at any moment; the potential leader of the free world goes in and out of consciousness. Develop procedures, people. Grab her by the elbows and get her ass behind the tinted glass.) If a guy on the street, Zdenek Gazda, hadn’t captured it on video, we would all be called conspiracy nuts for even discussing it, and you get the sense that the Clinton people wouldn’t…

Keep Reading

Personally Holy & Wholly Ineffective

in Culture/Philosophy/Politics by

This November, for some Christians, personal holiness will dictate a protest vote against Donald Trump. Is this really conscience, or something darker? Over my years as a believer, I’ve seen personal holiness measured in strange ways. One Sunday morning, after my wife was introduced to a member of the praise team as a “baby Christian,” one of the singers leaned in towards her, with a weird mix of intense curiosity and mystical reserve, and asked: “Have you witnessed yet?” I remember the odd silence between us as we walked out to our car that morning; we had failed this woman’s personal holiness test. All true believers had to have a recent witnessing story ready for her. Since then, I’ve seen personal holiness obsessions blow up in weird ways: the Baptist radio minister who roundly scolded any Christian who served cocktails in their home, only to have his radio show abruptly terminated some months later, after an affair with the church secretary was revealed. I can remember processing strange Bill…

Keep Reading

Stop Twitching, NeverTrumpers

in Culture/Politics by

Trump-Averse syndrome has many incarnations, but for a few pundits, the behavior calls to mind the hilarious apoplexy of Herbert Lom’s Chief Inspector Dreyfus in the Pink Panther. Upon hearing a positive Donald headline, the Trump-averse coffee-spewer will start twitching, and fretting, and sputtering–if not literally, at least figuratively. In the last few weeks, one friend of mine has gone out of his way to imagine Donald Trump in ongoing liaisons with adolescent girls. Another quietly laments the outrageous lengths some Christians are going to justify a vote for Donald Trump. (This would be the grieving, pastoral snit.) Still others manage to post every gaffe, every HuffPo lamentation, every instance of MSNBC second-guessing. I can hear them now in the back of the faculty lounge, making tisk tisk sounds over their copy of National Review. It’s something like watching the career English literature teacher comparing his meager retirement to the sprawling fortune of the first red-haired bully he introduced to Trollope. Full blown Trump Derangement Syndrome, as identified by…

Keep Reading

Go to Top

Thanks for visiting our site! Stay in touch with us by subscribing to our newsletter. You will receive all of our latest updates, articles, endorsements, interviews, and videos direct to your inbox. 

Send this to friend