Faith & Life Inspirational Message

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

The title of today’s reflection jumped out at me when I read these words in a book I am reading for one of the classes I teach.   I thought, “wow, so that’s the choice: fear or love?”  I guess I thought it would be more complex than that. Education has so many good things going for it.  I cringe every time I think about the growing educational gap between the “haves” and the “have nots.”  Those who have not pursued education will likely be so short-changed in our increasingly technological world, that I can only shake my head.  So I do have high regard for education. But education and progress is not everything.  This was brought home to me when I was reading the section that contained the title of this reflection.  Richard Rohr, the author, began a paragraph by saying, “It’s an enchanted universe; there is nothing new under the sun in terms of the soul.”  Basically, I agree with Rohr. Sometimes, this might be disappointing.  Probably the American mindset typically expects good t

I share a story which is true, but it is not about me.  Credit is due, but it is not credit to me.  That’s what makes it a good story.  Recently I had to travel for a conference.  I asked an alum of the college and a friend if he would fill in for me in one of my classes.  I think it is my responsibility to find someone good to cover for me, so the learning process can go forward, even if I am not there.  I know students would probably prefer not to have class when I am gone.  It has nothing to do with me being a good teacher.  Oddly enough even though they are paying tuition to be in the class, they would miss it if they could! Part of my teaching is to model to the younger ones what I think makes an effective adult in the world.  I don’t think that is a vain statement, so much as a comment based on experience.  Of course, I recognize they have a choice what kind of person they want to become.  But they don’t have a choice about how people perceive them and receive them into jobs and

I became involved yesterday in a conversation about believing.  It was a cordial discussion between some folks who have a firm belief that God exists and somehow is involved in the world in a caring way.  Another couple of people were dubious about God’s existence.  They were not wildly opposed to God’s existence.  Rather, they simply felt like they have had no evidence that God exists.  They do not see any signs of a God who is involved in any kind of caring way. Rationally, both sides make sense to me.  I think I could easily develop an argument for both of those sides that could convince me.  But sometimes the issue of God’s existence is not just a “matter of the head.”  To say that is to say perhaps coming to believe or disbelieve in God’s existence is not a matter of just figuring it out. Of course, I do believe in a God who exists.  And I am just as certain I have no compelling evidence to prove that existence to someone who has seen no signs of Divine existence.  That is why

To many of the younger generation with whom I deal every day, Kobe Bryant was an idol.  I also understand some readers of this inspirational piece might have no clue who Kobe was.  And some readers who are really squeamish, might be backing away from even a look at what I am going to say.  I understand all of these perspectives and, oddly, think I relate to all of them and can speak to all of them. Kobe, as he was affectionately known throughout the basketball world, was born in 1978.  I am old enough to remember his father, Joe, played basketball professionally in the NBA.  So, Kobe had athletic genes and it was no surprise that he bypassed college and started playing professionally in 1996.  He spent his entire career with the LA Lakers.  He was a prolific scorer and was a world champion five times.  For younger people, he was larger than life.  He was good looking, superbly athletic, a bit of a playboy and wildly successful.  Kobe was the idol of countless young people and, perhaps,

I suppose a very high percentage of time any of us spend “being spiritual,” whatever that is, is pretty routine.  Of course, it is the mountain top experience that is so appealing.  Reading the mystics of any age is both thrilling for me and also daunting.  It is fun to relish vicariously in their experience.  But when it comes to my experience, I have not been up the mountain yet! If I am honest, most of my spiritual experience is best described as “plugging on.”  That does not make it bad.  It does not mean that I think God has shortchanged me.  I am good with what is given me and what my own discipline leads me to experience.  I know it is very important for myself not to get into the comparative shopping mode where my spirituality is concerned.  I am convinced no denomination has an edge on any other denomination.  Spirituality is not denominational.  Spirituality is about the lived experience with the Holy Spirit---my lived experience and your lived experience.  I can only hav

My friend was with me for some full day working sessions.  We are collaborating on a big project.  This is different than most of my work.  Most of what I do is solitary work.  As a college professor, I spend quite a bit of time by myself reading, getting ready for classes, grading papers and examinations.  Of course, there are the times in class with students.  That is great.  But it is a minimal amount of time compared to the other duties.    And I am not complaining; it is a good way to live life. But I also learned a long time ago, I like to be part of teams, projects, and community endeavors.  As an introvert, I appreciate those times of solitude.  And I seek out solitude if I have to spend too much time with people and in groups.  We all need balance…and I know how to balance my time, commitments, etc. As far back as twenty years, I remember reading a couple books about “collaboration.”  I was not too impressed.  Collaboration seemed like a fancy word for a pretty normal ent

I have occasion to return to one of my favorite books, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, by Annie Dillard.  It is a book that blows away my mind.  She develops what I tell the students is a nature spirituality.  She sees things in the world to which I am oblivious.  She hears things whose airwaves somehow miss my ears.  She smells and touches when apparently I am more inclined to turn up my nose and ignore.  I don’t remember whether she tastes things. Her book is replete with wonderful one-liners.  She is eminently quotable. But what makes it even richer is a wide-ranging acquaintance with authors whom I have never read, or with whom I am only marginally acquainted.  When I read her book, I feel like I stumbled into an entire library and the goodies keep tumbling my way. An example of this kind of quotation hit me within the first few pages of Dillard’s book.  She is talking about the magnificence of the created world.  It all starts with a look at a small, non-descript creek she calls Tink

Every year our nation celebrates the memory and the hopes of Martin Luther King, Jr.  I think this is a good thing, although I know in some parts of our country, it is not a favored thing to do.  King was controversial in his lifetime and continues to be in some ways in the remembering of his life.  I am so old, I actually recall the April day in 1968 when King was shot in Memphis.  It was a sad day and raised fears that a different kind of civil war could break out.  While King’s amazing work stands for itself, it is also clear his vision is unfilled and there is work yet to be done.  To inspire us to commit to that vision and continue his work, I would share some thoughts and advice from the late civil rights leader.  Much of his thoughts and work focused on love.  This should not surprise us since he was a follower of Jesus, who instructed all his followers to love God and neighbor.  In fact, this is a nice summary of all Jesus taught.  The gospel is love embodied.  The highest chal

I have been making my way through J.D. Vance’s recent best-seller, Hillbilly Elegy.  It is a fascinating read and quite informative.  He reflects on his own growing up in Kentucky and, then, significant childhood experience of life in Middletown, OH.  His story is interesting because he probably will always be a hillbilly, but has in most ways escaped the trap of the shortcomings of that way of life.  His is now a rich resident of Silicon Valley, which has almost nothing in common with his boyhood home in Kentucky.  The thing that intrigues me is what this teaches about spirituality, a theme overtly missing in the elegy. The first issue is with the word, elegy.  If I ask students in my classes what the word meant, I am convinced 90% of them would not know.  And if they ran into the word, I am sure 89% of them would never look it up and continue to read without having an idea what it meant.  Of course, this blows my mind that the title of the book would have a word they don’t know.  I

Yesterday we celebrated the anniversary of the life and witness of Martin Luther King in Memphis, TN.  People my age can remember hearing about his death and cringing.  We knew that would probably take the civil, racial unrest to a new level.  In my own case as a Quaker pacifist, I respected and wanted to emulate the non-violence that characterized King’s approach.  His life and ministry were grounded in his Christian faith.  It was easy to be aware of the others at that time who were calling for violent, forceful engagement of the issues.    I never met MLK.  I did know some people---a couple of Quakers---who knew him.  I knew people who went to parts of the South to march for justice.  For many the civil rights movement was linked to the peace movement trying to end the strife in Vietnam.  It was a complex time, but the issues of justice were very clear.  To do nothing was to be aligned with the wrong side was how most of us thought.  I wanted to be on the side of justice and peace. 

I know I have written before about compassion.  But it is a pretty deep and powerful concept, so whatever I said earlier no doubt is limited.  I have had some new thoughts.  Much of what I want to share in today’s reflection comes from having watched a recent Krista Tippett’s TED video on compassion.  I have admired Tippett’s work for some time now.  She is a journalist who has the benefit of some theological education.  She is well known for her radio broadcast and blog called “On Being.”  I have also used her book, Becoming Wise, in a class.  It is a good one. In this seventeen-minute presentation, Tippett makes me think about compassion in some different ways.  In the first place she contrasts it with tolerance.  This interests me because I have written a short piece on tolerance.  In that piece I said, “Tolerance is always an issue in the context of difference and diversity.  Tolerance means to bear with people’s differences or diversities. Tolerance includes respect for the other,

The title of this reflection might elicit the response, “of course,” from those who know I teach college students.  Why would I not say, blessed are the students?  This gives me a job!  They pay my bills.  They are young and interesting.  Indeed, all that is true.  And I do hope my students are blessed. When we say the word, student, it is not surprising folks think about college or high school students.  Even elementary students fit this bill.  All of them are in school.  Everyone calls them “students.”  Even in Germany they are called “Studenten,” which sounds just like it does in English.  Why would we not hope all the students---around the world---be blessed? But unless we grew up in a religious school setting, associating “blessing” with students is not normal.  In my Indiana growing-up days I do not recall one time anybody used the language of “blessing” in school.  “Blessing” was a church-word…or something you said when someone sneezed!  Oh yeah, that is when I heard the wor

I am not sure when I first heard the word, ecumenical.  That probably would be because if I heard it, I would not have known what it meant and, therefore, would have dismissed it.  I doubt that the word would have come up in conversation with the farm folks I hung around with when I was a kid.  I am certain it was not a common word among the Quakers in my part of the world.  There may have been pastors and the priest in town who knew the word, but I don’t remember ever hearing it.  But then, I don’t remember hanging out with these guys!  (And they were all guys then.) I suspect I learned what the word meant when I was in college.  Surely, I would have learned it in a Christian church history class.  By the time I got into college, Vatican II was well underway, but I don’t recall anything about that.  Vatican II entertained a number of very important things---not only for the Catholic Church, but with implications for all other Christian traditions.  Because I had no association (save h

Recently in class we wandered into an interesting discussion that I have continued to ponder.  We were talking about the future.  I noticed how the students moved back and forth between talking about expectations and about hopes.  I asked if they were the same thing.  Most folks did not think they were the same.  So if not the same, how are they different? I agree; I don’t think they are synonyms.  Obviously, both hope and expectations have to do with the future.  Neither have happened yet.  I am sure I have not fully thought my way into the two dimensions of future, but here is where I am in the moment.  Let’s start with expectations.  I know our word, expectation, is rooted in Latin.  The root word is specto or spectare.  I would translate it as “watching” or “seeing.”  We get our English word, spectacle, from that Latin root.  So, the root word suggests expectations are our way of watching or looking out for the future. The two letters on the front of the word, “ex,” is a prepositio

To describe how humans are made should either be ridiculously simple and require only a paragraph or, possibly, only a sentence or two.  On the other hand, the topic may be so complex and profound, it requires writing a book!  If I think about the short version, I can imagine some jokester say the only thing it takes to make a human is a sex act.  It does not even need to be between husband and wife.  We know that kids are created out of wedlock all the time.  It is that simple.  When I think about how complex the process is, I abstain from doing the project.  I don’t think I know enough to write that book. I was prompted to think about this topic when I recently began planning for teaching my class again on spiritual disciplines.  I am confident people in churches and mosques and synagogues who are old hands at the religious life know a thing or two about spiritual disciplines.  It is easy to read a little about Jesus and quickly know how important the life of discipline was for him. 

I keep reading in order not to go stale and implicitly assume I have learned all that I need to enjoy life.  I am already aware of how much stupid, superficial stuff there is to keep us occupied.  I know what it is like to feel like I am doing something important, when in fact, it is an ignorant waste of my time. I know what it is like to do something I consider worthwhile, while others think it is silly and useless.  Religion is one of those big areas that gets life commitments from some folks and snickers or disgust from others.  One of the things I recently read resonated with my spirit.  John Gerhring wrote about his visit to a Trappist monastery in Virginia.  I thought I knew Gehring; I know a guy by this name.  But this John turned out to be a Catholic program director of a Washington, DC organization---not my John Gehring.  But out of curiosity I read on.  I am glad I did.  The title of his little piece is what attracted me: “What I learned being silent with the monks.”  I am a

The title for this inspirational piece is meant to be funny.  Without context it is also meaningless.  It does not fit into our normal imaging of worms.  The idea came to me when I was reading a collection of “best stories” of the past year.  This particular story comes from the pen of a Catholic sister, Mary Bilderback, who lives in New Jersey.  I don’t know her, but I would like to meet her.  She entitled her thoughts, “I would never help a worm cross the road.”  It is a good story, so let’s dive into the heart of it. Her story is actually a reflection on creation and leads to the God who is responsible for this universe.  In that sense, it is quite spiritual.  But we will get to that.  It is a story that opens by recounting a spring day after some hard rains.  Sr. Mary is headed to the compost pile only to encounter a worm on the way, too.  Quickly, she sets up the story with her comments.  “You may have seen, wherever you live, worms pushing and pulling the pinkish extents of thems

One of the things I like to do is bring forward various names of influential people whom, I think, a wider public audience ought to know.  One such name is Thomas Berry.  I have known about Berry for quite some time.  I have read a couple of his books and have a deep appreciation for his perspective on the world and our problems.  But I am guessing there is not wide-spread knowledge of Berry, even among the Catholic community of which he was a part.  In a word, Berry had a deep concern for planet earth and what humans were doing to it.  Due to Greta Thunberg from Sweden in our own day, this ecological issue has moved to the front of the news. I was reminded of Berry and his work when I recently read a short book review of a new biography of Berry.  Some of his former students, Mary Evelyn Tucker, John Grim and Andrew Angyal, have written a biography, which I plan to read.  The book review by Marian Ronan has piqued my interest.  The beginning of the review narrated how in the 1970s she

The idea of a routine is doubtlessly as old as humanity.  Even for those of us who have led a relatively stable life, the idea of a routine is still meaningful.  I qualify as one of those who has led a very stable life.  Growing up on a dairy farm means a daily schedule.  Cows must be milked morning and night.  There are no exceptions. Unless you can find a fill in, you are in charge.  I remember as a little boy how delighted I was to be able to go with my dad to milk the cows.  In those earliest years I don’t think it occurred to me that one day soon, I would have to do that job. As I grew up and went to school, it was no secret what I would do when the bus dropped me off in front of my house.  Frequently, my dad would ask me whether I wanted to milk the cows or tend to the many hogs which we produced.  Somehow there never was a third option!  Most of the time I did not mind.  It was life as I knew it.  Some kids went home from school and watched tv; that was not part of my life.  As