Faith & Life Inspirational Message

I was recently led to an author and a book that I did not know.  I don’t claim to be a literary expert and it often shows!  The author is Matt Haig and the book is The Midnight Library, published in 2020.  I am part of a group that recently looked at a few passages from this book.  There was no context for the passage and I still have not read the book.  So, it may be dangerous to comment on it because I risk not knowing what I am talking about.  But undaunted, I plunge ahead anyway! A little background checking tells me that Haig is an English citizen who lives in Brighton.  I have been to Brighton a number of times and enjoy being there on the English Channel.  I was told he bases some of his stories on his own “mental breakdown he suffered when he was 24 years old” and that he “still suffers from anxiety from time to time.”  Added without an afterthought, I was told he was an atheist.  I had to laugh at the non-sequitur.  Having anxiety does not necessarily lead to atheism! The book

I have a picture on the desktop of my computer, which I see every time I open it.  I frequently change the picture on my computer, so I am not sure how long this one will stay there.  Normally, I will rotate pictures of my grandkids, so they are “with me” even when they are not around.  I am sure all parents and grandparents understand this. Almost never do I have a picture of myself on my computer screen.  And if I do, it is a picture of me with someone else whom I consider significant in my life.  Of course, every picture is “worth a thousand words.”  And every picture has its own story.    This picture currently on my screen is a group of students who were in a class I have just finished teaching.  Sometimes I think it is a misnomer to say I teach.  More often, I think it is better described as a group of us regularly got together and learned from each other and from some books.  I am not sure students often see that they can be teachers, too.  And most good faculty I know, are quit

Those who know me, know I like sports.  I played sports in school and long after school was history for me.  My two daughters played sports and I loved that almost as much as playing myself.  I have been involved in watching and supporting college sports for a very long time and don’t plan to give it up any time soon.  I will put up with professional sports, but I don’t like them as much as the younger kids and college athletes.  Of course, that leaves aside the elite athletic programs that rake in millions on their men’s basketball and football programs.  I will save that tirade for some other time! “March Madness,” as the annual big-time fling for college basketball is called, is a sports’ junkie’s heaven.  I know it inevitably involves many of those big-time programs that I just dissed.  But there are other good stories that come from it and I want to share one of those stories, because it has lessons beyond sports, which I want to develop.  The story comes from the pen of Michael M

Sometimes I read something that has a real impact.  Occasionally, I know reading it will impact me.  Such was a recent article about Sister Simone Campbell.  I met her once when she was on a visit in my city.  It was part of the very well-known media event called, Nuns on the Bus.  That was the brainchild of the social lobbying agency in DC that Sister Simone headed as executive director called Network.  So I have known about her, but did not know much about her.   She is retiring from that directorship and seeking the Spirit’s guidance for her next step.  In article about her and her work, I learned more about her that that is where the impact originated.  Her life and witness are impactful.  She was born in 1945 and grew up in California.  She went to Catholic schools.  Her life was deeply affected by the diagnosis of cancer in her younger sister in Simone’s high school years.  It is as if Simone took on the mission of her sister, Katy, as well as her own.  That mission would be chan

Some authors are able to write in such a way that I find myself arrested when reading them.  They can phrase something in a memorable way.  Sometimes they have a facility with words that leave me amazed.  I like reading people who come from different disciplines than I do, because they use words that I don’t normally employ.  Additionally, they can use metaphors and figures of speech that make me understand things in fresh ways.  One of these writers is the scientist-theologian, Ilia Delio.   Anyone who does a doctoral degree in science and one in theology gets my attention.  I did one of the two and that was enough!  What I very much like about Delio is she takes things from science, such as evolution, and work it into her theology.  It makes her theology feel very up-to-date and relevant. I think this is important, because some theologies ask us to be two different people.  On one hand, we are citizens of a modern world.  Science appropriately plays a huge role in our lives---whether

Recently I was at a gathering for worship and the congregation sang an opening hymn which I found moving.  It was soft and melodic.  I don’t always follow the words when the tune speaks deeply to me, but this time I sang along and let the words speak to me, too.  The music we used that morning did not indicate the source of the hymn.  I knew I wanted to write about it, but also knew I needed to give credit.  And so a little research yielded results.   The hymn is entitled, “We Are on Holy Ground.”  It is from an album published in 2009 with the title, “A Changed Heart,” by David Haas.  I did not know Haas, but a little more research unearthed some interesting information.  He was born in 1957 and writes contemporary Christian music, mostly for the Catholic liturgical communities.  He has studied both theology and music, which is revealed in the song I liked.  I have decided he is someone I hope to meet some day!   I would like to share the words from the refrain and some from the three

When I began teaching about contemplative spirituality, I was fortunate to find a book that has become key to the success of that venture.  The book, Essential Spirituality , by Roger Walsh helped me think about how I wanted to structure the class and, then, it offered a wealth of practice exercises to help students and me alike learn how to start to live contemplatively.  In that sense it is a very practical book.  Students routinely have told me that was one book they planned to keep.  Most of the time students unload books soon after a semester concludes!   I did not know about Walsh.  It turns out, he has an intriguing background.  He is Australian by birth and education, but now teaches at the University of California at Irvine.  He has a medical degree and a Ph.D.  Currently he is Professor of Psychiatry, Philosophy and Anthropology at Irvine.  I owe him a debt of gratitude for this helpful book.   The title of the book is given some more focus when we note the subtitle: The 7 Ce

What is life all about?  That is the central question Ignatius of Loyola, founder of the Jesuits in the sixteenth century, wanted to address, according to Jesuit scholar David Fleming.  Fleming offers his own sense of what Ignatian spirituality brings to the table.  Fleming says, “Here is Ignatius’s answer: a vision of God for our hearts, not our minds.” (17)  Fleming tells us the answer to what life is all about is a vision.  It reminds me of the biblical passage, which tells us without vision a people perish.  That always seemed true to me.  And so it is I can agree with the sixteenth century Spanish saint.  Visions lead to life.   Visions typically are future tense.  While we might talk about visions we had in the past, they are just that.  They are relics of the past.  We may have accomplished that vision.  We may have fallen short.  It guided action for a while---maybe a long while.  A vision born of the past might still be relevant, but it is relevant only because there is still

Some books I have read and re-read.  Sometimes I will know the first time I am reading a book that I will come back to it.  Sometimes this happens because I use a book for a class.  The class goes well and I know part of the reason is the book was effective.  Either students really liked the book or it was a useful tool to do what I wanted to do in that particular class.  One such book for me is Kathleen Norris’ work, The Cloister Walk.  Originally published in 1996, the book seems as fresh with each new read as it did when I first worked my way through it.   While you can derive overall themes from the book, it reads much more like a journal, which in effect it is.  Norris spent several months on two different occasions at a Benedictine monastery in Minnesota.  Her book lifts up meditative reflections on her time and experience there.  Of course, Norris is not a nun.  She is not even Catholic, but what she learns from the monks, nuns and other Catholics reawakens her spiritual journey

             There are some people I will read whatever they write.  I trust they always have something to tell me---even if I don’t want to know it or don’t want to think about it.  It is good for my soul.  I figure if things are good for my soul, I should pay attention.  For sure, I don’t always know what is good for my soul.  That is where others come in---that is where community function in our lives.  One of those people is Benedictine Sister Joan Chittister. Sister Joan is part of the Benedictine community of women religious in Erie, PA.  I have been to their monastery and found it, like always in a monastic setting, welcoming.  It impressed me as the home and base of some amazing women.  These women were committed to the Spirit and to doing what they thought the Spirit was guiding them to do.  This kind of clarity is always arresting.  This contrasts with so many of us who may not be clear that what we are doing is what the Spirit wants us to be doing.  We may be going through t

Whenever we have a rain, I check the sky for any sign of a rainbow.  Most of the time, I am disappointed.  I have never done any research to learn when are rainbows more likely.  I am sure there are predicting factors, but I don’t know what they are.  Obviously, rainbows are more likely in the summer.  When it is cold or even snowy, I don’t bother to look for rainbows.  I can guess rainbows are more likely when it has been hot and humid.     The most recent one I saw appeared very clearly in the eastern sky.  I am sure I have seen them in all directions, but this recent one appeared after a pop up heavy rain.  That meant the sun soon appeared in the western sky and illuminated the rain drops still falling to the east.  The rainbow was brilliant---radiant in its colors.  Every time I see a rainbow, I want to stop and appreciate the sight.  Since it is a natural phenomenon, I can’t say it is magical, but it seems so.     While I appreciate the rainbow as a natural phenomenon, I also thou

I have been reading some material about St Ignatius of Loyola for an upcoming presentation.  Ignatius was a sixteenth century Spaniard who was the founder of the Society of Jesus, better known as the Jesuits.  I have had a general acquaintance with Ignatius for quite a while, but never spent too much time in details.   I learned to appreciate the Jesuits during my graduate school days.  A Jesuit seminary shared a campus with an Episcopal seminary very near my own seminary.  I learned that was one of the benefits of attending graduate school where there was a cluster of first-rate theological schools.  They all greatly benefited my own ecumenical development.  When you come from such a provincial background as I did, you need exposure and engagement with those who are different than you.  The Boston area did that for me. Ignatius was born in northern Spain in 1491.  During his young adult years, he fought in some local wars and in 1521 was severely wounded in a battle with the French. 

It is no secret I like what Richard Rohr brings to readers.  The Franciscan spirituality writer combines a solid Christian perspective with an inclusive spirit and informed by contemporary psychological insights.  Like myself---or shall I say like him---we both write a daily inspirational piece.  He is both an example and an encouragement for me.  The daily writing is a good discipline for me and, I suspect, he might say the same thing. Recently I read one of his pieces which talked about heaven.  Students often ask about heaven.  I am never quite sure what to tell them.  It is either very simple or incredibly complex.  Atheists have it easy.  For them heaven is simply nonsense.  You live; you die; and that’s it.  Maybe they are correct; but I don’t think so.  This is where it gets complex.  So it was that I welcomed Rohr’s insights and want to share that with you. He begins by telling us that “We don’t go to heaven; we learn how to live in heaven now.”  Immediately, I wanted to say “y

When I was in graduate school, one of the things we joked about was all the big words we were learning.  Learning the big words was not a joke.  We all understood why we were doing it.  The big words gave us an ability to be more precise about what we were discussing.  Our conversations were often about deep things that were not capable of absolutely clear description.  God is the biggest example here.  We would joke that if anyone described God precisely, that person did not know God.  And we felt like the joke was true!   We joked about our big words knowing that we could never use these big words in many of our venues of ministry.  If we were preaching to a group of normal folks, we cannot use the big words.  They would not be understood and that is the point of speaking---to be understood.  And if we use big words when they hampered our cause, then we were the joke.   I thought about this when I recently read one of Richard Rohr’s daily meditations.  I will use only one sentence fr

I have been giving quite a bit of thought to the whole experience of hope.  People use the language of hope all the time.  Our hopes come in very short terms, such as what I hope to have for lunch.  And of course, there are much longer-term hopes, such as what we plan to do when we retire or when we get the dream job.  Sometimes folks have been very thoughtful about what they hope for and other times, I’m sure, what they hope for is barely a part of their consciousness.  I also think many of us have been hoping since we were little kids, but we never thought too much about how hope is formed. All this flowed into my mind when I was recently on a call with a very well-known Catholic priest and professor.  Father Bryan Massingale is an African-American priest and professor of theology and ethics at Fordham University.  Massingale is an authority on issues of race in America.  His experience growing up African-American in Milwaukee was very different than my experience on an Indiana farm.

I realize as I was typing the one word title, “Help,” it would be even better if I could add a voice tone to the word.  How we say the word communicates much more than simply seeing it in print.  I can utter the word, help, with a tone of desperation and have people scurrying to my aid.  This must happen often in the emergency rooms in hospitals.  Or we have heard kids---often our own kids---scream for help.  Even using that verb, scream, gives our word, help, a great deal of urgency.     On the other hand, I have often see signs in a window advertising, “help wanted.”  Or the sign might simply use a single word, help.  While this is an offer, there is no urgency.  I can read the sign with no particular urge to offer help. I don’t need a job or money, so there is little interest to help.  I shrug and hope they find someone who does want to help.     The third thing I thought about was the sign you might see at other stores.  The sign might say, “help yourself.”  Oddly enough, this sign

I have a picture on the desktop of my computer, which I see every time I open it.  I frequently change the picture on my computer, so I am not sure how long this one will stay there.  Normally, I will rotate pictures of my grandkids, so they are “with me” even when they are not around.  I am sure all parents and grandparents understand this. Almost never do I have a picture of myself on my computer screen.  And if I do, it is a picture of me with someone else whom I consider significant in my life.  Of course, every picture is “worth a thousand words.”  And every picture has its own story.     This picture currently on my screen is a group of students who were in a class I have just finished teaching.  Sometimes I think it is a misnomer to say I teach.  More often, I think it is better described as a group of us regularly got together and learned from each other and from some books.  I am not sure students often see that they can be teachers, too.  And most good faculty I know, are qui

I continue to be entertained and enlightened as I make my way slowly through Brian Doyle’s book, Eight Whopping Lies .  Doyle has an uncanny way of telling a compelling story within about two pages.  The stories originate out of real life and it is so easy to relate to the ordinariness of the story.  And then Doyle drags us deep into profundity and that is where the enlightenment emerges.  Wow, that is an amazing revelation is my normal response. Still near the front of the book is the little story Doyle entitles, “Is That Your Real Nose?”  I had no clue what this story would narrate.  I suppose I had my doubts that it would be about real noses.  So I eagerly began to read.  Doyle has a charming, simple way to engage the reader.  This entry begins with the cryptic question: “Best questions I have been asked?” (14)  As a writer and speaker to many groups, I am sure he has been through his fair share of Q&A, as they are called.  Quickly, he tells us his favorite question.  “The best