Faith & Life Inspirational Message

 Memorial Day---or better, yet, Memorial Day weekend---is a complex holiday.    That does not make it anything less than other major holidays; it is just different.    It seems that the federal holiday has its origins right after the Civil War.    It was an opportunity to remember those Union soldiers who had died in that cause.    Gradually, the “remembering” expanded to include all the men and women who had died in the service of their country. Earlier, it often was called Decoration Day.    I heard this term most of the time when I was growing up in rural Indiana.    I understood it as the time when the old people went to the cemeteries to “decorate” with flowers the graves of their family and friends.    I knew it had some military association, but by my lifetime, the holiday again had expanded to include everyone who had already passed away.    But it was more complex than that. For many people Memorial Day celebrates the beginning of summer.    That association with summer helps

Howard Thurman is truly one of the spiritual giants of the twentieth century.  I can imagine not many folks know about him now.  He died in 1981.  Thurman was an African American leader who impacted most of the folks whose names we more likely remember.  I think of Martin Luther King, Jr. and others like him.  Recently read an article about Thurman by Thomas Robinson, who teaches at Brite Divinity School in Fort Worth, TX.  I know Robinson and respect his scholarship. Thurman was born in 1899 just before the turn of the twentieth century.  He grew up in Daytona, FL, so he knew first-hand the plight of the black person in the South.  For those of us living in the twenty-first century, it is difficult to imagine what he experienced.  And for those of who are white, it is probably impossible to imagine.  Thurman had a storied career.  He was well-educated for a black man at that time.  He was a pastor, professor and mentor to the Civil Rights leaders of the 60s. All of this is not the sub

Not many people in my world of connections have heard of Maximus the Confessor.  I am sure I never heard of him until I was in graduate school.  Since then, he has become an important resource.  He lived primarily in the seventh century.  He was born in Constantinople (modern Istanbul).  He became a luminary of the Orthodox Church, the counterpart to the Roman Catholic Church.  The thing I really like about the Orthodox Church---sometimes divided up among Greek Orthodox, Russian Orthodox, etc.---is how grounded they are in the early church and the church fathers (and mothers) of that period.  Maximus is part of an anthology I am reading as a possible resource for a class I teach.  Bumping into him and reading his thoughts reminded me how much of a treasure he is.  I want to share one particular focus for both its insight and persuasiveness.  It comes in a section where he is dealing with two major issues: salvation and the eucharist (holy communion).  Maximus provides a summary, which

People wonder how I come up with ideas to write about in my spiritual discipline of reflection and writing these inspirational pieces.  I am not sure there is only one answer. Sometimes I am fortunate, and something pops into my mind and the thing feels half written.  But more often, I find an idea because I am open and I am looking for one.  It is probably obvious much of this comes from reading quite a bit and reading rather broadly.  Sometimes it comes from a comment someone makes.  Be curious, be open and be engaging.  That actually sounds like a pretty good way to live life. I always feel fortunate when I bump into something that intrigues me.  Often, I will begin reading it without knowing whether there is an idea I want to ponder and about which I want to write.  That just happened when I was reading one of my favorite regular publications.  I spotted a headline that immediately drew me to it and I knew I had to read it.  The headline said, “Religion entered into me”: A Talk wit

Recently my friend and Franciscan, Dan Horan, published a piece on the anniversary of Pope Francis’ 2015 encyclical, Laudato Si’ , which means “Praise Be You.”  An encyclical is a global letter meant to address some topic of interest for worldwide Catholics.  In many cases it is also of interest to all of humanity.  The focus of this papal letter is the current ecological crisis.  In it, the Pope appealed to all of us to recognize and begin to deal with this issue.  It is not too late, but the clock is ticking! I don’t want to get into all the things Dan says in this wonderful little essay.  But he did cite one sentence from a contemporary theologian, Elizabeth Johnson, which I would like to borrow and reflect in my own way.  Johnson is a St. Joseph sister who is retired from the faculty at Fordham University.  In 2014 she published a book, Ask the Beasts .  In that book she reflects on God as creator and the world as an expression of God’s creation.  Dan quotes this passage from her b

I have only recently “met” Sophronia Scott through a reference from a friend of mine.  Then I watched her on a program through the internet.  She has published a new book on Thomas Merton, The Seeker and the Monk.  Scott is far too young to have personally met Merton, but she has met him nevertheless.  She has met him through his books and, it seems, directly through the Spirit.  Even as I type that, I am intrigued whether I really know anything about meeting people through the Spirit.  But then I conclude, I really do know something about it. I again have run into Sophronia Scott.  She has an essay in a publication I regularly read.  Her article is called, “I am a bird, waiting: How to find God’s presence in nature.”  She is a great writer and has insight, so I jumped right into the reading.  She tells about her trip to Gethsemani to see where Merton lived and wrote and to walk the grounds that he once walked.  I have been to the monastery in Kentucky many times, so it was easy to rel

While doing some work for a presentation, I thought of these words from the sixteenth saint, Teresa of Avila.  Early in her story about her life she comments on experiencing God.  Listen to how she puts it.  “I used sometimes, as I have said, to experience in an elementary form, and very fleetingly, what I shall now describe.  When picturing Christ in the way I have mentioned, and sometimes even when reading, I used unexpectedly to experience a consciousness of the presence of God of such a kind that I could not possibly doubt that he was within me or that I was wholly engulfed in him.”  There is much here to unpack.   The first thing Teresa tells us is this experience is an elementary form.  I take this to mean it is a sophisticated theological thing.  Teresa is certainly capable of theologizing and doing that in a profound way.  But here she wants us to know how God comes to her.  It is simple.  And it is fleeting.  I smile at this because how much I know the human temptation to want

I would like to have a dollar for every time I have heard someone refer to the “good old days.”  Usually, it is someone with some age on him or her.  I suspect young folks are not quite old enough to spend much time in memory.  They are too busy crafting their futures and enjoying the present.  Besides, they have not accumulated that many “old days!”  I happen to be at the age where there are more old days than days to come.  And I am ok with that.  Typically, the phrase, the good old days, is mentioned with some wistfulness.  When we make that reference, we are temporarily through our memories re-located back in that very time.  By definition it is a pleasant time.  No one thinks of sickness or tragedy in their lives and talks about those as the good old days.  This probably explains why people like the mental trip back to the good old days.  They were always days that we cherish.    Normally the reference to the good old days is making a comparison to the current moment.   “Back then

I decided to go to breakfast at a local restaurant instead of the usual yogurt or cereal.  That is certainly not a radical decision; people make this decision every day of the year.  My family was gone and it was an easy decision.  I went expecting to have nothing but eggs and bacon and a quick look at email.  In fact, I sat at the counter in order to have a quick breakfast and get on with my day.  There certainly is nothing special in all that.  I was not looking for nor expecting anything special.  All I wanted were some eggs and toast.  A waitress whom I have seen, but do not know, came fairly quickly and took the order.  I turned to the emails on my phone, which is an announcement to the surrounding world that I don’t want to be in a conversation.  In the context of my teaching, this was hardly a move to make me contemplative.  I guess I was not concerned with being spiritual at that time.  Within a few minutes the waitress brought my breakfast.  Thanking her, I set about the task:

Stress usually gets bad press.  Normally, we think stress is bad for us and we should avoid it if at all possible.  Sometimes that is true.  What most folks don’t know is there is good stress and bad stress.  When it comes to good stress, I think there is actually something spiritual we can learn from it.  So first, let’s see what is at stake with both kinds of stress.  This means taking a look at the nature of stress on the body. Stress is triggered in the older part of our brains.  We know from neuroscience that the primary function of our brain is to keep us alive by managing our body budget.  Realistically, our bodies are always dealing with change.  So managing means managing change.  We see internal changes in our body and changes in our environment.  For example, if we are on a walk and suddenly see an animal---a dog more than likely.  Automatically, we can feel changes in our body.  It feels instantaneous.  We probably feel our pulse quicken, our muscles tense and so forth.  We

Reading David Whyte is always demanding and rewarding.  This British native, who now lives in the US, delves into life, thinks about it, and then offers insights that amaze me.  I first heard about Whyte from a friend.  And then I read his book, Consolations .  It is the kind of book that you do in small bits.  The book focuses on a number of common words.  He will spend three or four pages unpacking a word that I never realized had so many facets.   One such word that I have been pondering lately is the word, pilgrim.  I know what a pilgrim is.  While it is not always a term describing spiritual people, that is how I associate it for the most part.  If you are a Christian pilgrim, it is not unusual to dream of a trip to the “Holy Land,” as it is often called.  People want to go where Jesus lived and taught.  They want to go to Jerusalem and see the garden scene.  They want to visit churches where Jesus spent time.  I have seen most of these.  They were fine, but I am not sure physical

At one level, I knew what I was going to get when I recently read the article entitled, “Greta Thunberg on her gap year climate change tour, Joe Biden, and turning 18.”  I am sure there are folks out there who don’t know the name of Greta Thunberg.  I can imagine some of my friends asking, “Who does she play for?”  This simply means they spend too much of their lives on sports!  Thunberg is the remarkable young Swedish woman who is out to change our world---and I hope she succeeds.  Since I know about her, not much in the article surprised me. And yet, every time I read about her, I am surprised.  I am surprised at the courage, clarity and commitment of this young woman.  I wonder what she did in her early life that prepared her for this role?  I wonder about her parents and what they did to encourage---or at least, not discourage her?  And I wonder about her, given her acknowledgment that she has Asperger’s, how she manages?  Some of my questions were answered, but I still wonder abou

Once again, I have been helped by the insight of my friend, Dan Horan, who is a Franciscan brother, ordained Catholic priest and professor of theology.  I appreciate Dan at many levels.  He is an outgoing, engaging and interesting guy.  I am sure he was that before he became a Franciscan, was ordained or studied theology.  Another thing I appreciate is the fact that he is quite a bit younger than I am.  I am lucky I have many younger friends.  Still teaching in a college setting aids that process.  But most of my younger friends don’t have the background and experience Dan has.  One way this experience comes out for Dan is his ease in using social media.   He is active on Twitter, podcasts, and the like.  Because he is so able, he has a wide following of folks.  He is sharp, insightful and articulate.  When he speaks, people listen.  Of course, there is a huge Catholic audience.  But it is more than that.  Intriguingly, he is like so many of his peers and, yet he is so different.  He i

There are many sources of information and inspiration for me.  I like to read things from other Christian traditions to supplement my own valued Quaker spirituality.  And I feel blessed by all the non-Christian friends I have.  And I appreciate chances to read some from their traditions, like Judaism, Islam and Buddhism.  Our multi-cultural society is so much different than the little, homogeneous world of rural Indiana of my growing up days.    One of the groups within Christianity I appreciate are the nuns and religious sisters.  I have never been an official Roman Catholic, although I proudly admit to some crypto-Catholic tendencies.  I obviously have never been a monk or nun, but I have learned about their calling and way of life and highly value what the monastic life has taught me.  Recently, I had the honor of speaking to a fairly sizable gathering of Catholic sisters in the city where I live.  Their warmth, welcome and wisdom were palpable when I was with them.  I don’t know wh

I know plenty of people who certainly believe in miracles and some who firmly do not believe such a thing exists.  The latter group are willing to admit to some “interesting coincidences,” they don’t want to interpret those as miracles.  I have thought a bit about that.  Obviously, the tricky part is defining exactly what one means by the word, miracle.  Some people use the term loosely, meaning something they cannot explain.  Well, there are plenty of things I can’t explain; in most of those cases, I know it is simply because I am ignorant.   I know sometimes I use the word, miracle, to describe something that is pretty amazing, even if it is technically explainable.  When my two kids were born, that seemed miraculous.  Any good pediatrician could tell me exactly what the process is and there is no real mystery in that process.  But when the first one popped out, she seemed miraculous to me!  And maybe this is the key clue to how I want to describe most miracles.   I think about this

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 from

I ran into this phrase, furnace of ambivalence, when recently I had occasion to reread Thomas Merton’s wonderful book, The Sign of Jonas.  If you don’t know, Jonas is Jonah---famed man of the whale story in the Bible.  The book was published in 1953 but is an account of his earlier years in the monastery, Gethsemani, in Kentucky.  And so, it is like reading someone’s journal or diary.   Merton joined the Trappist monastery in the knobs of Kentucky.  This was an unusual move for this man of the world.  He was born in France, had been schooled in England, while spending some time with his maternal grandparents on Long Island in New York.  He basically partied his way through year one of college at Cambridge in England.  So his grandparents and others insisted he come home, get serious and get on with life.  And so, he landed at Columbia University in New York.  During the 1930s he flirted with Communism, but encountered a few people who began to attract him to the Catholic Church.  Withi

The end of a semester always gives me a chance to think about theology!  That is meant partly as a flip comment and partly it is an honest reflection on the process of being a religion professor who, therefore, thinks about things in theological terms.  What I would like to do in these few paragraphs is lay out my life in both of those worlds---my life as a teacher and my life trying to be a guy on a spiritual path with God. One of the things about teaching that I have struggled with for decades now is the whole grading thing.  Although most folks likely seeing grading as the means of evaluating students, I choose to see them as different, but related.  I actually operated under a system once in which we did not give grades.  We agreed we did not philosophically agree with grades.  But then I watched the group decide we had to figure out who passed and who did not.  Furthermore, we felt like we wanted to honor somehow those who did well.  I laughed because effectively we created our ow