Faith & Life Inspirational Message

                 I am not sure how old I was when it dawned on me (or someone told me) that Christmas and the New Year did not come at exactly the same time everywhere in the world.   I am not sure how I felt when I learned the kids in Europe had opened their presents six hours before I did.   And for sure, I do not think I could quite grasp the fact that Chinese kids had done their New Year’s party at noon my time.   And by the time I watch an old year go out and welcomed a new one, the Chinese had just had their lunch!          Now I know fully that all this is due to the fact that our earth is round.   It is a big ball.   And it takes the ball twenty-four hours to spin around one time.   I know this in my head, but honestly I have had very few experiences to convince me the earth is round!   It still looks flat, except when you get in the mountains.   But there is nothing even with the mountains that would tell us the earth is round.   I don’t doubt the scientist

                 Those who know me know the Christmas season is not my favorite.   Having confessed that, however, does not mean I have problems with Jesus or his birth.   Since I am convinced Jesus was fully human, he had to be born.   I would like to think he was fully human in every sense.   But the Christmas season as our American culture deals with it is much more than the story of the birth of a baby in Bethlehem.   In fact, almost no Christmas advertisement I hear references that birth at all.   The Christmas culture, as I like to call it, is not selling a baby or a savior figure.               I would even be fine if we limited the Christmas season to the four weeks of Advent.   Because Quakers are not liturgical literate, I really did not know what Advent even meant.   But with some education and good friends who are liturgical, I now know quite a bit!   I like Advent.   I appreciate the church’s sense of preparation that Advent represents.   Four weeks is

               One of the best things about teaching at the university level is the opportunity to experience so many new beginnings.   This is probably true in other contexts, too, but I am most familiar with my own context.   At the university we have semesters and each represents a beginning.   When I first started teaching at college, we were on the quarter system, which meant three beginnings each year.   And if you taught during the summer, that was at least one more beginning.             Beginnings offer the chance to think about how you want to proceed with what is to come.   If it is a new course, you plan a syllabus.   Essentially, the syllabus is a promise to students concerning what will happen over the course of fifteen weeks or so.   There are books to read, discussions to engage and a chance for reflective learning.   One of the things I learned from the very beginning of my teaching career was I would learn as much or more than the students.   In f

                 Sometimes I realize how lucky I am.   It is not the kind of luck; however, I would go to Las Vegas and try in the gambling venues.   I don’t think I would have any more success there or betting on horse races as any other average sucker.   And perhaps what I am calling luck is not even luck.   Often I think what we might call “luck” is little more than being prepared and available at opportunistic times.   Something good happens and we call it “luck.”             I admit that sometimes things happen that we do not deserve.   Something comes our way that we did not see coming and we are given a gift.   In theological terms this is called “grace.”   Grace is nothing more than an undeserved gift. I have been graced so many times…graced by people, by events, by God no doubt.   And all one can do in the face of grace is says “thanks.”             Recently a friend gave me a book.   It is entitled, The Mentor Leader , by Tony Dungy.   I like focusing on

            When I was growing up in rural Indiana, I was provincial.   I did not know I was provincial; in fact, I am not sure I would even have known what that word meant.   If you look up the word in a dictionary, you will find a couple of apt definitions.   A provincial person is someone of “local or restricted interests or outlooks.”   That described me!   Another definition of provincial is a “person lacking urban polish or refinement.”   Yep, that described me.          There was very little diversity in my life experience…ethnically, racially, religiously…you name it.   No one I knew drove a non-American made car.   Career choices for boys and girls were pretty clear with little overlap.   When you are provincial, it does not occur to you to ask why.   For a provincial outlook, most of life is a given.   One could have hopes and aspirations, but most people I knew did not have hopes that were very big or expansive.          In my experience there were only

                 The title for this inspirational piece came from a sentence in an article I read about Julian of Norwich.   I have long been an admirer of Julian, the fourteenth century English mystic and writer on spirituality.   I may well have been in graduate school before I ever encountered Julian.   But I liked her on my first read.   Reading her was both a comfort and a challenge.   She was a comfort because when you read her, you have the feeling she knows God and knows the kinds of things God wants humans to know about all sorts of spiritual things.   I found Julian a challenge, however, in that she offers insights to God which I had never heard before and, therefore, was not sure how to deal with them.               We do not actually know Julian’s real name.   The name by which we know her was taken from the church in Norwich, England to which she became attached.   She actually made a home in a small cell that was attached to the church itself.   She be

                 When I was a youth, I had no clue how provincial I was.   The good news is I would not even have known what that word meant!   So it did not matter that I was provincial.   Basically, to be provincial means you are a citizen of the province.   In my case my province was rural Indiana and an identity as a Quaker.   Rural Indiana is not unlike other rural areas in this country.   It meant hard work, independence and a limited outlook.   That was my little world.             Paradoxically, there were quite a few Quakers in the little world in which I lived, so I figured the world was full of Quakers.   This illusion was perpetuated because I know there were “a bunch of Quakers” in Kenya, so I figure all of Africa must be crawling with Quakers.   All of this turned out not to be true.   Education did some wonderful things to me.             I learned much more about a much bigger world.   College in the South in a modest-sized city began my growth bey

                 Much of the time I get material from the things I read.   But sometimes I hear interesting things.   Such was the case yesterday.   I was with a group of people whom I very much like.   They are gracious.   They are warm and quite hospitable.   I like to sit back and watch them do what seems very natural.   I long ago concluded that people who live in the Spirit do what comes natural to the Spirit.             I think people of the Spirit naturally begin to focus on others, rather than themselves.   People of the Spirit know the first thing you do is to welcome the other.   They do this even if the “other” is stranger.   I am sure they see a stranger who has not yet become a friend.   That is a neat way of looking at the world.   It certainly is a way of peace making.             It is a way that begins in trust and hopes for the best.   Some would call this naïve.   The bolder critics would call it stupid!   It is naïve and stupid if defending ou

                 It was just a lunch.   It was just a time to catch up, see what's been happening and what the future holds.   That was the plan for an encounter with a friend of mine who also happened to be a student from the past.   It was something I looked forward to doing.   I feel very lucky.   Often I have quipped, after my own kids, the students who have been part of my life are the best thing that has happened to me.   I have been richly blessed.             A chance to get together to have lunch and catch up was just another opportunity to be with someone I have watched grow, mature and begin to blossom.   We always hope that for our own kids.   And I have hoped it for so many students I have known through the decades.   That part never gets old.   It happened for me when I was younger.   It happened for my own kids.   And it happens for so many students whom I have known.             It would be easy to write this and dismiss it as part of the human

                 It is risky to suggest that we can talk about God.   Most reputable theologians know that all talk about God probably misses the point of who God really is.   I would agree with these theologians.   Maybe that is why Quakers’ preferred approach is silence!   But humans have a proclivity to talk and, since I am human, I want to talk about God.   They key word here is the innocent little word, “about.”   We can talk about God.   We cannot be sure that our talk actually names God the way God actually is.   Talking about God is like talking all around God.   It is as if we point at the reality of God and say something approximate.   I had a friend who once announced she was going to describe the indescrible!   That is what talking about God means.   We are going to do that which is impossible.   The way we do this in language is with metaphors and images.   Of course, there is a long tradition of using metaphors and images to get at who God is and what