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Showing posts from March, 2022

The Rocky River

       Behind my house is a little river named the Rocky River.  It is appropriately named, because during the summer months, especially, when it is low, there are many rocks in and alongside the river.  I like living by this little river.  When I go out on my deck, I could throw a rock into the river, so it is close.  My baseball arm is not very good anymore, so that tells you how close to the house it is.        In fact, when we thought about buying this place, we were a little concerned that it might flood us.  But we saw a hundred years study and plan and discovered there is almost no chance we could be flooded.  I am ok with that level of risk.  I did not grow up around water, so having it outside my back door was not a necessity.  Sometimes I think I would like to live right next to the ocean, but maybe I would get tired of it.  I do like my Rocky River.      It is a charming river.  It is really not that big.  But when it rains hard, it swells very quickly.  If we have two or th

Swipe-Right Marketplace

             My title for this essay is stolen from a chapter title in Sophfronia Scott’s wonderful book, The Seeker and the Monk .   In this chapter Scott talks about Thomas Merton’s relationship with the young nurse.   In fact, the chapter is really a story of Merton’s quest for love and, in turn, implicates the quest of love that we all undertake.   In so doing Scott refers to Merton’s insightful little piece entitled, “A Buyer’s Market for Love.” (157)   Scott describes this piece as the one which “speaks best to what love has become in our current society---an ongoing quest that takes us outside of ourselves and into a realm that Merton referred to as a market where we trade in love, looking for the best deal possible.”             Scott begins her commentary.   “ I want someone to love me .   Whenever I read or hear someone say that, I picture a person stripped bare, standing with palms up, the essence of vulnerability.   The image is breathtaking in its beauty, frightening in

A Flower

       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

Guidelines for Life

             I follow pretty closely the writings of my friend and Franciscan priest, Dan Horan, offers.  Dan is a well-educated, significantly younger public figure in religion.  He has a radiant personality and an engaging spirit.  When Dan comes into a room, it lights up.  Soon conversation with him right in the middle ensues and laughter breaks out.  Everyone seems to be having fun.  If you did not know, you would not pick him out of a crowd as one who lives like a monk.  But that says more about my own stereotyping than anything else.      Dan reminds me that being spiritual does not have to be a dour choice in the way folks live life.   For me Dan models the way I would like to picture how Jesus was than many of those stuffy nineteenth century Quaker guys in portraits hanging in too many Quaker meetinghouses I visited over my lifetime.   I can’t imagine any young person taking a look at one of those guys and saying, “I want to be just like him!”   I think Jesus had an infectiou

Falling Forward

       I normally don’t use videos or even PowerPoint to do presentations.  I hope it is not simply because I am old-fashioned.  I know their use is almost universal now.  I am willing to use them when I think they are appropriate or add value.  And since that is a subjective judgment, I am sure others we see appropriateness and value much quicker than I do.  That said, I recently made a presentation to a group where I did use a little video.      The topic of the presentation was trust.  I suspect most folks underestimate the significance of trust when you think about teams, co-operation and so forth.  Simply put, when trust is low or missing, things will not go well.  As our new book,  Exception to the Rule , demonstrates, you certainly don’t get high performance when trust is lacking.  Trust is foundational.  And I would add, when I talk about trust, I am also talking about faith.  For me faith and trust are virtually synonymous.  I know some people don’t think that is true, but for

Friend of God

       I was reading my Franciscan friend, Dan Horan’s, recent column in a Catholic periodical when I hit upon this phrase, “friend of God.”  He was writing a tribute to the African-American theologian, Shawn Copeland, who is retiring as a professor at Boston College.  She is a world-class theologian.  As a black woman, she can think theologically like most of us cannot do.  She has experiences that most Catholic theologians---and even Quaker theologians---do not have.       I can imagine she even experiences God in a way I never could.  I would like to think that her God and my God are, indeed, the same God, but surely we experience, know and relate differently to that same God.  I am not sure humans are sufficiently aware that our own make-up as persons affects the way we experience the world---including God.  Rather than be saddened by this, I am grateful. I can learn more about my God from Shawn Copeland.          Horan gets to his announcement that she is a friend of God in an int

Be Honest With God

             Not long ago, I read a good reflection on Lent by James Martin, a Jesuit whom I have met, but can’t claim we are old friends.   Martin has high visibility within the Catholic Church, in part because of his prophetic in some areas that are often controversial in the Church.   This makes him only more attractive to me.   While I don’t always agree with his positions on issues, I take seriously someone who has heard and responded to God call in ways that Martin has.               In Martin’s Lenten reflections, he offers this compelling title, “Be honest with God when you pray.”   I decided this was good advice for any season, not only Lent.   I invite you to look with me at some of what Martin says. At the outset, he asks an intriguing question about Lent.   “…how many of us think of this as a time to jump-start our daily prayer?”   Hence, Martin’s real concern is not Lent, but prayer.   Prayer is good in Lent and at any other time, too.   I suspect that many of us need to

Seeing into Spring

       Each time spring begins to make its appearance where I live, I think about Annie Dillard’s wonderful book,  Pilgrim at Tinker Creek .  Dillard has a chapter entitled, “Spring.”  I like Dillard so much because she has the ability to look at things very differently from how I see them.  Part of it has to be the biology and science education she no doubt received.  I can imagine Dillard is a person who is also wired differently than I am.  She simply looks at the world differently.  When I read her, I learn so much.  She piques my curiosity and asks me to think in fresh ways.      Early in chapter Dillard says, “The birds have started singing in the valley.” (106)  I am aware of that, too.  I go for a walk and I can hear the birds singing.  It is as if they have awakened from a winter’s sleep and want to celebrate the season that is beginning to emerge.  Now I know in the Midwest, we are teased for a while.  We will get a relatively warm day and, perhaps, snow in another day or two

Finding Peace

 One of the things I am convinced is true about spirituality is that it is not always about sunshine, laughter, and good times.  Anyone who has lived knows that life is not just sunshine, laughter, and good times.  I suppose many of us might wish that were true.  But it is not and there is no use in hoping for something that is not realistic.      Maybe the one place where the illusion that life is sunshine, laughter, and good times always seems true is in the first blushes of a romantic relationship.  When you meet “that one” who becomes the sole center of attention, then life does seem to be sunshine, laughter, and good times.  For a short while, this may well be true.  In fact, it often seems too good to be true.  And it is!      I don’t know how many times I have heard people tell someone who has experienced death in a family or some other tragedy that “time heals.”  Of course, that usually is true…but it does take time for the healing to take place.  And in the beginning it seems

Legendary St. Patrick

            It could safely be said that on St Patrick’s Day, everyone is Catholic.  Of course, that is not really true, just as much of the so-called history about St Patrick is not true.  Much of it is legendary.  If I were simply a historian, I would care.  But there are times not to worry too much about historical accuracy.  When it comes to St Patrick, I say let’s wink and go with it.         Patrick is likely a historical figure.  Tradition says he is a fifth century Briton and Roman, as he said, who felt called to go to Ireland as a missionary.  At that time, Ireland was a pretty wild place, but Patrick was undaunted.  One source claims that Patrick had a dream and “it seemed ‘all the children of Ireland from their mothers’ wombs were stretching out their hands’ to him.”  He understood the dream as God calling him and he responded as such.      Patrick enjoyed immense success as a missionary.  This is why many would call him the founder of Irish Christianity.  He organized churc

Moving Books and Finding a Friend

                 Recently, I was in the process of moving some books from one shelf to another.   I don’t normally do this and when I do, I don’t spend any time looking at particular books.   That would be to go down a rabbit hole which would take   hours to escape.   Every book I have carries a story.   It is a book I have for a reason.   In most cases I wanted the book; often I bought it.   As I keep getting older, I am aware someday I will retire and have to figure out what to do with all my books.   Because I have been graced with many years now, I have many books and many of them are now fairly old, as books go.   I am not sure there is anyone else out there who will want to adopt them.             But the story I want to tell right now is about one particular book that fell to the floor in its move.   The book, Have a Little Faith , by Mitch Albom was one I recognized but could not remember too many details.   I remember more about his earlier book. Tuesdays With Morrie , which

Another Look at Call

              In her book, The Seeker and the Monk , Sophfronia Scott writes about call.  Even though I have thought a great deal about the notion of call and have even write a few pieces, it is good to take another look at what a call is and how does it work.  Scott offered me a fresh way to take this new look.  Scott’s book narrates a dialogue between herself, as the seeker, and the deceased monk, Thomas Merton.  Since Merton died in 1968, Scott never met him.  She only knows him through his writings and what a few older folks who did know Merton have told her.  When you read her book, however, it seems like she and Merton have been best buddies for quite some time!             Oddly enough the context for Scott’s consideration of call is a section about gun control.   Scott and her family live in Sandy Hook, CT, the city where the horrific school shooting happened in 2012.   Scott’s son, Tain, was a third grader in that school that fateful day.   He was not physically hurt, but ca

Generation Z and Hope

                 Whenever my friend, Dan Horan, writes something, I am eager to read it and learn from it.   He recently wrote a piece about Generation Z.   I know some about the different categorizations of the cohorts.   Among those groups, I am closest to the Baby Boomers (born 1946-1964).   This generation was followed by the so-called Gen X (1965-1980) and then the Millennials (1981-1996).   This group has been succeeded by the Gen Z cohort (1997-2009).   Although Dan doesn’t not include the final group, many sociologists now talk about Gen Alpha (born since 2010).             It is fun to read Dan’s words about how each group tends to be critical of the group that comes after them.   Gen X was written off by the Baby Boomers as a bunch of “disaffected slackers!”   Not to be outdone, Gen Z then said the Millennials “were ‘coddled’ and exhibited a ‘sense’ of entitlement.’”   Dan’s laugh here is at his own expense, since he is an old Millennial---which means he i