Faith & Life Inspirational Message

                I never miss a new piece by Benedictine Sister, Joan Chittister, when it appears.   One of the recent ones she penned concerned peacemaking.   For anyone who knows Chittister, this is not surprising.   She has spent most of her life working for peace and other social causes.   She has been part of the Erie Benedictine monastery that is a beacon of these kinds of concerns, I remember a few years ago when I was invited to speak at the monastery.   Part of me felt inadequate, since I was unsure I had anything to share with these active nuns and their friends.   However, I did it and figured by going there, I would learn far more than I would give to them.               Chittister’s latest writing begins with a note of irony about peacemaking.   She writes, “ It's very difficult to talk about peace in the United States without starting a fight.”   As often the case, I laughed.   Irony invites laughter as a response to the craziness of the idea just stated.   But iron

       Jim Forest recently died.   Our world is poorer for this loss.   Obviously, all human beings die and the world loses a little something each time.   And of course, countless babies are born around the globe and who knows the roles in life each of them will play.   I don’t claim there is a baby somewhere who will replace Jim Forest and do his work.   No one will do it quite like he did.   We all have our own calling and, surely, many will be called to work for peace, as Jim did.   I think the future and welfare of our planet hinges on all the peacemakers in our world ultimately being successful.               I met Jim Forest a couple times.   I did not know him personally, but I “knew” him in the way so many of us “know” people whose lives and work we admire and support.   Only a few months ago, Jim Forest appeared on a program the Merton society has been sponsoring.   As usual, he was refreshing and challenging in his message, just as we hoped he would be.   Even though he cl

            I began reading an article about an interview with a nun.  I probably would not bother reading an article like this, but it is a source I frequently turn to for information.  With this trust of the source, I plunged into the article.  The opening sentence was very good.  The author, Dan Stockman, asked a question.  “ How do you turn $20 and a borrowed camera into a women's center, a 1,000-student school, an orphanage, a convent and a Montessori school?”  I had no answer, but I was curious.  The person being interviewed, Sister Rose Marie Tulacz, answered with two words, “You don’t.”  I wanted to know more about the nun from the Sisters of Notre Dame.             She continued, “This is my life: God multiplies everything…When we empty ourselves, he fills us."   I smiled at this typical perspective of faith.   Clearly, she is a woman of faith; in fact, she has given her life to God and humanity.   She has taken that to a degree I never will manage.   I respect it a

 I was settling into the evening. Dinner was out of the way and I was ready to begin the reading for the classes the next day. Then the phone rang. There is a great deal to like about modern phones. For one thing, if you have entered names of people, it shows who is calling. I glanced at the ringing phone and saw the name of my friend. Instead of simply saying, “Hello,” and waiting for the sound of the other voice, I knew whose voice I would hear. It was my friend calling. I was delighted. Not all phone calls delight me. But when my friend calls, I am delighted. It was good to hear from him. It was good to hear the latest news. He is one of the regular readers of this inspirational journal and always has comments that I find very welcome. I like it when he queries me about a particular piece. Sometimes, I think he knows more about what I have written than I do! Just last night, he picked on a single paragraph in a recent offering I had made. I could not immediately remember the piece a

 Loneliness is probably an issue more now than it has been for a long time.  The times in which we live---pandemic, unemployment and so much else---makes it easier to feel isolated.  And with that, perhaps we feel like no one cares about us anymore.  We all know loneliness is not as easy to fix as a headache.  For that we can take an aspirin and predictably we feel better.  Aspirins do nothing for loneliness. I began thinking about all this when I read a recent article in one of my alum magazines.  Jacob Sweet, the author of “The Loneliness Pandemic: The psychology and social costs of isolation in everyday life,” made some very good points, which I would like to share.  And I go beyond Sweet by suggesting there is a spiritual dimension to loneliness and, perhaps, some aspects of spirituality in solving our feelings of loneliness. An early point Sweet makes is to note, “Loneliness is a subjective experience---part of what makes it so hard to identify.”  (31)  This was a good insight, be

 I ran across an interesting piece by John A. Ostenburg, which is really a journal entry of his.  Ostenburg retired recently as mayor of Park Forest, IL, which is a suburb outside of Chicago.  He and I have in common an appreciation of Thomas Merton, 20th century monk and spirituality teacher of so many.  The piece by Ostenburg is some pages from a journal he kept on a visit to Gethsemani in 1992.  Although he had been reading Merton for quite some time, it was his first trip to Merton’s Kentucky monastery.  Merton had long been dead, having been tragically killed when he was in Bangkok, Thailand in 1968. Ostenburg is not a monk; he is married and very much a man of the world compared to the monks at Gethsemani.  But he wanted to make a retreat at that hallowed place that Merton called home for twenty-seven years.  We can see that in Ostenburg’s first entry on July 14, 1992.  He exclaims, “After 30 years of desiring to do so, I finally find myself residing within the walls of Gethseman

One of the reasons I hang out with people different than I am and read rather widely is to expose myself to ideas I would not otherwise get.  It enriches my life and gives me opportunities I could never create on my own.  I frequently tell students my association with others has provided me better things in life than I ever could have come up with on my own.  If I had only followed my own dreams, my life would have been much poorer. A recent article I discovered on Twitter, which is actually an extended interview, provoked me to think about the theme of optimism.  I have thought about it in the context of hope.  But I had never really explored the theme.  The article is by Steven Pinker, who is a cognitive psychologist and linguist at Harvard.  He is a popular figure, but one who is doing serious work.  He is one I trust. One question Pinker was asked was why so many folks are such negative nellies.  His response comes from his scientific research.  Pinker tells us that “we have a grea

Sometimes in the life of a person on their spiritual journey is the chance actually to believe what you say.  I am currently in one of those places.  To be aware I am in one of the places where I will decide some course of action is both sobering and humorous.  My issue is certainly not life and death.  The good news is whatever I decide will be good.  It is such a luxury to have a choice between two good things.  But sometimes that kind of choice feels quite difficult.  I am sure I will chafe under the weight of deciding, but I want to remember ultimately, I am lucky to have choices that will turn out well. I have been on a faith journey for decades now.  Early on had I been asked about living this long and having this much time to grow in my faith, I would have guessed I might be further along.  I probably figured at that younger age, I would not have as many questions as I actually do.  Surely, I assumed by now I would have figured it all out.  Actually, I do not have it all figured

 One of the things I know about myself is I prefer the routine and normal.    I hope this does not mean I am incapable of living in different kinds of times---special times and, perhaps, even crisis times.    I have had some of both, as would be natural for anyone my age.    But in the end, I prefer the normal and the routine.    Maybe that is because so much of life happens in that sphere.   However, special times do come at regular times.    There are the religious holidays. If you are Christian, the two big ones are Easter and Christmas.    If you are Jewish, there is Passover and Yom Kippur, which is the most important holy day.    Of course, Muslims, Hindus and other major traditions have their holidays, such as the Hindu Diwali.    As I write this, I realize a particular day can be a religious holiday for some tradition and just a normal day for another tradition.    I don’t know very many Christians who celebrate Diwali.   And then, there are holidays that are not religious.   

                 Many of us like typologies or stereotypes, as we often call them.   For example, some of us claim to be introverts and others clearly are extraverts.   I belong to the former introvert category.   Of course, most of us have a touch of both within ourselves.   But one tends to be the dominant type.   Being an introvert means that most of us need some time by ourselves to recharge our batteries.   I know that I need some regular time alone.   I like being with people, but at some point I look for some solitude.   Extraverts are different.   Being with people charges their batteries.             Another, less scientific typology is the morning vs. night person.   Again, I feel very clear that I am naturally a morning person.   Maybe that is due, in part, to growing up on a farm---a dairy farm no less.   But I have always favored the morning hours.   Even when I don’t have to get up early, it is difficult for me to stay in bed.   Once I wake up, I am ready to hit the flo

                 Folks who know me know that I am someone who acknowledges an appreciation for the writings of the late monk, Thomas Merton.   Even though Merton died in 1968, he has had a formative role in my spiritual faith and life.   I never met him, although I know a few people who knew Merton.   Part of the intrigue of Merton is his own pilgrimage from no faith to a life of faith.               Had you known the early Merton---from his birth in 1915 through university years in the 1930s, you would never has guessed his life would take him where it did.   He became famous as a monk---an odd thing in itself.   Paradoxically, you could say he left the world only to have the world find him.   From an out of the way monastery in the hinterlands of Kentucky, Merton became a global spokesperson on a number of key issues in the 1950s and ‘60s.   For people like me, his words still have a relevance more than half a century later.               Probably no one would h

               I will be up front.   Walt Whitman was a nineteenth century Quaker and I also am a Quaker.   Of course, I could have said he was a poet, which is what most people would first think about when asked about Whitman.   He wrote poetry that was to be used in speeches and in hymns.   Of course, he was a product of his time.   He lived and worked through the wrenching Civil War period of American history.   He has much still to teach us and so I see him as a prophet, too.   Poet and prophet was he.             I regularly read a few papers as part of my daily routine.   One paper I actually get in printed form, along with my morning cup of coffee.   I am probably the last generation who is willing to pay money to get my hands dirty from the print.   My girls think I am nuts.   But there is the tactile experience of unruly paper after trying to fold it in half in order to free up the other hand for the steamy coffee.   Maybe I am nuts.   Other papers I read