Faith & Life Inspirational Message

I don’t watch movies and I’m not sure why that is the case.  I am certainly not against watching them, but somehow I never want to do it enough to take the time.  I always feel out of place and culturally illiterate on this count.  As nearly as I can tell, most students whom I know are avid movie watchers.  And most of my colleagues are, too.  It is not unusual for someone from either group to cite a movie to make a point.  That is always lost on me! Recently, I was going through some channels on the TV and spotted the movie, Rudy.  I actually took the time to watch it---even though I have seen it before.  I wondered how old the movie was, so the Internet makes that kind of search easy.  The movie came out in 1983.  It is based on the true-life story of Daniel “Rudy” Ruettiger, who did play football at Notre Dame.  The real Rudy was from Joliet, IL and always harbored the hope to attend Notre Dame and play football.  But he had a couple problems. The first problem was he did not se

Robert Bowers was not a name I ever heard, nor would virtually all Americans know that name either.  But then he parachuted into our consciousness when he entered a Pittsburgh synagogue and shot to death eleven Jews who were worshipping.  Certainly it was a heinous crime.  Clearly, it is the manifestation of evil and the epitome of sin.  It evokes deep feelings in all of us---feelings of sadness, anger and more.      The fact that it did not happen in my city is no less the reason for ignoring it and leaving it for others to deal with.  If it is not in our city, then it is too easy to resume our lives as if nothing happened.  At one level, nothing changed in my life.  If I had not heard the news, I could have blithely gone about my business.  But I cannot do that.  I needed to respond---to do something.     Fortunately, the Jewish community in my city planned a vigil.  It would be a time for Jews to gather, along with the non-Jewish community, to lament, to express legitimate anger and

I was saddened when I read about the recent death of the Trappist monk, Thomas Keating.  Keating lived to the age of 95, so death at that age can hardly be called tragic.  Keating is best known for discovering and giving the world what is called Centering Prayer.  Centering prayer was not really a new thing---not a new way of praying.  Instead Keating mined the early Christian literature and tradition---especially the mystical and contemplative aspects.  He called what they were doing centering prayer.  And his contemporary world was ready for the message.      I never met Keating.  I wish I had met him.  I would have enjoyed getting a sense for the person he was.  Obviously when you read someone’s books, you have some idea of how they think and talk.  But you don’t get a feel for the person.  You can’t look them in the eyes.  Often when you here a person’s voice, the words in their books take on a whole new meaning.  That is what I missed when I was never able to meet the man, Thomas

I am attracted to things that talk about meaning.  Maybe that is because I feel like I have spent much of my life thinking about meaning and testing to see if, indeed, I thought I was living a meaningful life.  I remember very well a period of life when I did not think I had any meaning or, at best, was not sure what that was.  Those were the years right after high school and the early college years. In my case much of school and high school was fine.  Maybe it is revisionist history, but I recall those days with some fondness.  I was an above average athlete, so that was a plus.  I was bright enough, so that also was a plus.  I am the oldest one in my family, so there was no sibling competition---no reputation to live up to or even live down.  Life was ok. Then I was off to college and began to experience a period of not knowing.  I began to have a nagging sense that what I was aiming for was not really what I wanted to do.  I began to accept that I was doing what others wanted me

The title of this inspirational piece was provided by a section header in a book I have enjoyed and which I still use in a class.  The book, The Active Life, by my friend, Parker Palmer, helps with the basics of living the kind of life I want.  The subtitle of the book is quite revealing: A Spirituality of Work, Creativity and Caring.  I try to do all three things in my life.  I still work.  I hope to be creative.  And I want to care.  Let’s explore all three. I was reading one of his chapters when I landed on the header of a section in that chapter.  The header read: “The Healing Power of Failure.”  I was immediately intrigued by the idea that somehow failure could be healing.  I certainly have known enough about failure.  Anyone my age has failed a few times.  If he or she has not, that person is likely to be lying---or never tried anything! I jumped into the section to see how Palmer was going to develop it.  One of the things Palmer suggests is failure is not always a teacher. 

I once heard Richard Rohr, one of my favorite contemporary speakers and writers on spirituality, utter a significant line.  He said, “Don’t confuse education with transformation.”  That was one of those moments when I gasped and thought, “Exactly!”  Let me detail that “exactly.”  I do that as one who has been in education for much of my career and care deeply about education.  So the last thing I would say is that I am against education.  To the contrary, education is crucial in this generation and for every successive generation. I also think there is a real need for education in religious and spiritual circles.  Frequently, I cringe at the ignorance and sometimes stupidity otherwise smart women and men utter in the name of religion.  Of course, I recognize at one point we all start out in ignorance.  We all were little babies!  Once I did not know anything.  But I have learned some things.  In religion, however, learning is tricky.  Not all learning is equal. I want to put spirit

I travel enough to know that I am glad my job does not have me on the road all the time.  I travel enough to keep life interesting.  I like going other places.  Sometimes it is only the neighboring state.  But if I have to be there two days, it means an overnight.  And that means a night in a hotel.  Sometimes I go abroad.  It might be Europe or England where I have been so many times, that it does not feel foreign.  But the hotels are different there.  Occasionally, I go to India or China where the culture and customs are very different.  A hotel stay there can be an adventure. I have never thought much about hotels.  And I never thought about them in any spiritual kind of way.  But as I was drawn to ponder hotels in this fashion, I was surprised at what began to emerge.  It turned out to be fascinating and instructive. We all know that hotels are places to stay when we are away from our homes or apartments.  A couple of my friends spend so much time on the road I imagine they spe

Even to think about, much less write about, legacy betrays my age.  No sixteen year-old is thinking about legacy.  They probably don’t even know what the word means.  Legacy means to get something from someone.  Typically, it means some kind of inheritance.  It can be used to talk about what people left to you when they died or when whatever they were doing is finished.  Legacy means, on the other side of the coin, what we leave behind when it is all over or when we die.     It tends to be part of the discussion when people talk about making wills.  The lawyer will ask to whom the property will go?  Are you going to give it all to the kids or share some with churches, colleges, etc.?  Of course, if you are dirt poor, this discussion never happens.  Poverty is your financial legacy.     Fortunately, the idea of legacy pertains to things other than money and property.  In fact, I would argue the more important legacies have little or nothing to do with economic worth.  Legacies have

Each day I try to be grateful for the many good things that come my way.  I don’t think I have any more good things than the normal person.  Also, I don’t think I am any more lucky than anyone else.  I think we all have some good things come our way in fairly regular fashion.  And luck is a visitor to many people.  I take these as givens.  The real choice is whether to be grateful for life.  Much of our gratitude is intentional.  I was taught at an early age to say “thanks” when people did something for me.  I have distinct memories of my dad turning to me and saying, “Now, what do you say to the nice lady?”  She may have just given me a piece of candy after our meal at the restaurant.  I am sure I was glad to get the candy, but I am also sure I was thinking, “it’s not that big a deal!”  My dad helped me see it was a big deal. And I have come to learn on my own that there are a lot of things out there that don’t seem like a very big deal actually are big deals in the sense that the

The title for this inspirational piece comes from the pen of recently sainted, San Salvadoran Archbishop, Oscar Romero.  On October 14, 2018 Romero was made a saint of the Church.  Pope Francis proclaimed the Central American churchman and theologian to be holy.  I am not sure what that all means to my Catholic friends.  Quakers don’t have saints in the same way the Roman Catholic Church proclaims and publicizes them.  I admit I am glad the Church does celebrate the sanctity of certain women and men.      Just because Quakers don’t proclaim certain folks to be saints does not mean I am against them!  As I just said, I am glad we have them.  It means I can borrow a saint and make him or her my saint, too.  I certainly have done this with figures from the past---people like Sts. Augustine, Francis, Theresa and others.  As I understand it, a saint does not have to jump through all the hoops, which the Catholic Church prescribes.  For me a saint does not have to be sinless.  I figure all s

I try to make sure I spend a little time each day outside.  It was easy when I was growing up on a farm.  Much of that life was spent outside.  In those days even the time on the tractor was outside---exposed to nature.  I know that is probably not good, given the health issues.  I can appreciate modern tractors and combines with their cabs, radios, etc.  As a boy, I leaned to “read nature.” I learned things like prevailing winds and the clouds that would bring rain and clouds that did not.  I learned to smell the rain and deal with the snow.  I appreciated the seasons.  In an odd way I liked learning from the tough times that nature could deliver---wet springs, dry summers, cold winters.  Extreme and excess can teach us a great deal.  Life is easy when things are going well and there are no hardships.  As life unfolded for me, I chose things that kept me inside much of the time.  That continues even to this day.  There are rare occasions that call for me to do my profession outsid

I read a great deal and fairly widely to gain new ideas and perspectives.  I am a sucker for good headlines.  Sometimes I chase a good headline, only to be disappointed when I start reading the actual article.  But sometimes, the content of the article is pretty good and I learn some things.  Such was an opportunity that recently came my way with the luring title, “Study shows churchgoers live longer than more secular peers.”  Since I am a fairly frequent churchgoer, I felt good about that headline.      Baldwin Way, an Ohio State psychology professor, conducted a significant study to see if folks who go to church might live longer.  The answer seems to be yes.  Actually, I was surprised when I read about the conclusions of the study, which suggested “that churchgoers can expect to live up to nine years longer than their more secular peers.”  I thought there might be a couple years, but nine more years much more than I would have guessed.  I was ready to dive into the details of the st

You can imagine I was drawn to read this short article when I saw the title, the gist of which I use for the title of this inspiration reflection.  The actual title of the article is a little longer: “It’s Getting Harder to Talk About God: the decline in our spiritual vocabulary has many real-world consequences.”  The author, Jonathan Merritt, begins in a catchy fashion when he says, “More than 70 percent of Americans identify as Christian, but you wouldn’t know it from listening to them.  An overwhelming majority of people say that they don’t feel comfortable speaking about faith, most of the time.”     While I do not have any hard evidence, I suspect that Merritt is correct.  He hired a professional group to do research, so it is not just his opinion.  I am willing to go with what he thinks he has discovered.  It aligns with my own sense that many people who claim to be religious do see it in a private kind of way.  They are religious, but don’t acknowledge it publically.  They would

Recently I have been doing some background research for a paper that I have agreed to write.  The paper offers a comparative look at my favorite monk, Thomas Merton, and the Quaker perspective on contemplative spirituality.  Certainly, Merton thought and wrote quite a bit about contemplation.  In fact, his monastery in Kentucky is rightly called a contemplative monastery.  Without going into a full explanation of contemplation, let it simply be understood here as a way of trying to live life in the Presence of God.     Quakers historically have not used the language of contemplation.  That meant that I would not have know much about the topic and would probably have answered negatively, if I had been asked whether Quakers were contemplative.  Now I would say that Quakers share much of what contemplation means without using the term or the normal contemplative language. I had just hit graduate school when Merton died in 1968.  Hence, I never had the chance to meet him.  I have read

The title of this inspiration comes from a line in a conversation the late Salvadoran Archbishop, Oscar Romero, had with a companion.  Older people may well remember Romero.  And he is in the news again by virtue of being named a saint by the Roman Catholic Church.  As one might suspect, there is the real human being named Romero and now there are “stories” about him---some of which are true and others are part of a legend that typically grows around those whose lives become saintly.     I remembered reading about Romero when he became Archbishop in San Salvador.  I recall his murder and the consequent outrage, etc.  Romero certainly had become a witness to and critic of the injustice of his native El Salvador.  Right wing governments, who often were propped up by American dollars, made life miserable for the poor folks.  It was a chaotic time.  Too often the Catholic Church was complicit in the misery.  That is why Romero’s story was compelling.      This came back into my awareness w

I was standing at the edge of the football field watching the college athletes go through their final paces for the day’s practice.  I like to pop by the various sporting venues to watch the athletes in their practice sessions.  I also like to go by the part of campus where music is made and theater comes alive.  Again, I like to do it when they are rehearsing or practicing.     Why do this, you might ask?  It sometimes is rather boring to watch them go through various drills.  Often it is not game situation or performing the act, as it will appear on stage when the lights are on.  That is surely true.  But we all know there are basic steps in the process of preparing the final act or when the whistle blows and the game is on.  There are fundamentals in all endeavors like this. Secondly, I like to do it in these venues, because there is no crowd.  There are no parents cheering on their athlete, musician or actor.  They are not getting applause or kudos from anyone except the coach

Someone recently thanked me for being important in her life.  I appreciate the gratitude and, even more, appreciated the opportunity to think about importance.  Perhaps this is an issue of spiritual immaturity, but that’s probably where I am anyway.  I always hope to find things to ponder that might lead to some growth and a bit more maturity.  As I thought about the gal who thanked me, I would have agreed with her that in her mind I was important to her.  She was right.  I didn’t do that in order to be who I am.  But I was glad to help someone. As indicated, the spiritually mature person probably never thinks about being important.  That is not their goal.  However, all truly mature spiritual people undoubtedly are important---perhaps in many ways.  But it would not register nor really matter, if they were to come to know it.  For those of us less saintly, perhaps it is a good exercise to think about importance. Maybe our earlier ego development needs some sense that we are import

I very much like to read autobiographies.  I like hearing people talk about their own life stories.  Recently a friend shared with me a chapter in a book.  The chapter is written by Ilio Delio, the Franciscan sister who has written much on evolution and theology that I have enjoyed reading.  I have not met her, although I have read quite a bit by her.  So I was eager to get a sense for how she developed as a person and a theologian.     She begins the chapter in this fashion.  “In 1984 I completed a dissertation in pharmacology at New Jersey Medical School.  My research was in the area of motoneuron neuropathy and I worked on an experimental drug to mimic the pathological neuronal damage found in Lou Gehrig’s disease…”  As one who does not know that much science, I am awed and supportive of all the findings scientists discover.  Delio claims she was a hardcore scientist who felt that the path to truth could only be found in science.”     But this is not all.  I was intrigued by another