Faith & Life Inspirational Message

       Recently I heard a friend use a phrase that deeply struck me.  I don’t actually remember the context and I don’t remember anything else he said.  But that phrase lingered long after I heard it.  It really was a phrase---not even a sentence.  The phrase simply says, “to make heaven on earth.”  Since I have no clue what he was talking about, I am going to make the phrase my own and develop it in ways that make sense to me.      I am going to take it in two contexts.  One context is overtly spiritual.  The other context is to use it as a phrase that makes some sense, but actually has nothing to do with religion or spirituality.  This might be the way you would hear the phrase in contemporary culture, much like swearing might use God-language, but have no real reference to God.           The first way this phrase can be used is the spiritual.  I prefer this one and want to spend some significant time developing it.  In this sense “heaven” normally means the place to which we (at lea

       I very much like Pope Francis.  Although I am not Roman Catholic, I feel like much of the time he speaks for me and for Christianity.  I am fine with that.  The phenomenon of denominationalism has significant limitations.  I am old enough to have felt like someone from my own denomination, i.e. Quakerism, needs to speak my truth.  Of course, that is provincial and narrow.  But that is how I grew up.  It seemed perfectly normal in my limited context.  However, some education and some travel chipped away at my narrowness.          I became interested in what Catholics were up to in the 1960s.  This was a tumultuous time. Vatican II was happening in the early 60s and then came the implementation of Vatican II reforms.  In some ways those reforms are still going on or, at least, being debated.  Part of my interest in Catholicism included being introduced to the world of monks.  As a Quaker, this was a part of the Christian Church about which I knew nothing. The more I learned about

      If we pay attention, we are very aware how significant change is in our lives.  In fact, I suspect it can be fairly claimed that change is the name of the game.  Of course, we are tempted to think there are some things immune to change.  There are some things that seem unflappable in the face of the assault of change.  This resistance to change comes in obvious places, such as the materiality of things around us.  For example, the earth itself seems pretty much the same day by day.  And the material things that are part of our everyday life seem unchanging.        The chair on which I sit, the table, my car and the list goes on of things that seem never to change.  And yet, if I get serious, I know my chair, table and car once did not exist.  Once there was a tree that yielded the table.  And the same goes for the wood in my chair.  And clearly, the car was pounded into being from some metal and plastic.  And some day I will trade in my car and it will be flattened into scrap met

          I use various magazines and journals to keep me up to date on news that is worth knowing, but which I would probably miss knowing.  Through the process, you learn to trust certain venues and authors to tell you things you will want to know.  Some of them for me would be obvious, namely, Quaker periodicals to tell me about the Quaker world which is my own tradition.  But some of the things I read are a very different sort.  I routinely read periodicals and people who likely take a very different approach than I personally would.  I try to read people who think very differently than I do and have theological positions I personally don’t find speak to me.          This seems counter-cultural today.  I find so many people only watch news outlets that gives them the party line they hold.  Political liberals only watch MSNBC and, of course, conservatives only watch FOX news.  Too often, the same regimen holds for people who hold theological positions.  Part of me feels like it is a

           I enjoy sitting in my chair and listening to the wind blow outside my window.    Of course that presupposes that I am sitting safely in my chair and the wind is not really doing any damage.    When a big storm hits, that is not always a safe assumption.    It is one thing to notice a breeze.    It is another thing when the winds come with a storm.    We see those kinds of winds with heavy rainstorms and we also see them with heavy snowstorms.           A brisk wind reminds me of the power of nature.    The power of nature gets my attention.    In fact, when the wind becomes really powerful, it can be intimidating.    Not only do I sense that this wind is really potent, but sometimes I am moved to some fear.    Intimidation is experienced as some fear.    And even the good fear we call awe is such that we are kept on guard.           I have often noted that the classical languages of Hebrew, Greek and Latin have one word which can be translated “wind” or “spirit.”    So the w

          We find ourselves moving through what Christians know as Holy Week.  It begins with Palm Sunday, which was last Sunday, and it culminates with Easter Sunday.  On the way through the week we pass Good Friday, a mysterious Saturday between the crucifixion and, then, the resurrection of Jesus that Easter celebrates.  It is a heavy-duty week for Christians.  For other folks, it is just another week!           So for my Christian readers, I hope this week continues to have possibilities of being a “holy week” for you.  It is worth thinking a bit about what holy week might mean.  A number of things occur.  One that occurs to me is that one ingredient necessary for it to be “holy” was that we need to take time.  “Take Time to be Holy,” the classic hymn I remember singing when I was young, can become the theme song for the day.  I am sure that holiness requires time.            Time is an interesting commodity.  In the business world a commodity is anything that exists that people ca

           I am a sucker for good stories.  In some ways I don’t care too much about the details, as long as the story is a good one.  One way I decide stories are good is if they somehow instruct---teach how to live and act in our world.  I think all of us continue to be in need of stories that teach us these things.  And certainly our young people need stories.  Stories are so much better than other forms of education.  Lectures don’t really do it.                I appreciate it when I bump into a story without even knowing I was looking for one.  This happened recently as I was reading a Catholic periodical I routinely check out.  I am not sure it is true, but somehow I think I probably learn more from groups that are different from me.  The fact that this story originates within a Catholic context is not that important.  It could have originated with a Jewish or Muslim context and basically told the same story.  Let me recount it and we draw our lessons that are inherent in the sto

            When we hear the phrase, “do over,” it probably conjures up some kind of mistake that we hope to rectify.    That happens to me often when I play golf.    I’ll hit a shot that goes astray and very much want a do over!    I am sure we can think of any number of times in our lives when we did something and either got a do over---or wished we could have one.    So it is not unusual to associate that phrase with negativity.           While that may be typical, it does not always have to be the case.    A do over can be anything we did once and, for whatever reason, we want to do it again.    I can think of many instances in which I sincerely wanted a do over.    Who would not want a do over of a very pleasant experience or a very positive outcome?           This came to my mind recently when I was gathering some information for a public presentation I have to make in a few weeks.    The topic given to me made me think of a book I read a few years ago.    The book by Mitch Albom

                 I read an interesting little article on baseball and religion.   The comparison is not unusual.   There have been many books, movies and academic studies on sports and religion.   In fact, in the academy scholars have been doing this for decades now.   Of course, one could argue both sports and religion are as old as recorded history.   Certainly, most of us are aware of the Greeks and the Olympics.   We hear something of this connection every four years when athletes gather in some country around the world and compete in a bewildering array of sports.               The thing that attracted me to this most recent article was the author, Jacob Lupfer, made his contention known in the title of the article, “Baseball, like religion, can teach us something about enchantment.”   I am always interested in that word, enchantment.   It is a word that lures me, but when I ask students or even other folks what it means, they always have trouble defining it.   With this interes

 Even if you are a Christian, I have concluded it depends on where you are---what is your context---how aware of Holy Week and the impending Easter you are.  If you are a Christian and work in a mainly secular environment, you may be relatively unaware of Holy Week.  For many it does not dawn on them until at least Thursday.  And of course, in the secular world there is absolutely nothing special about Thursday. But even in the secular world, Friday often assumes special connotations.  It might be a holiday---a day off.  It is at my College.  So, I suppose it is the one day Jews, Muslims, atheists, and other non-Christians are thankful for their Christian brothers and sisters!  But for the Christian, Friday---Good Friday---is an interesting one.           I suspect that for many Christians Friday is simply skipped.  They see Easter as very special and nothing else really matters.  The resurrection is key for them.  Why bother with anything less?  Let’s skip sadness and depression and g

                   For a long time, I have appreciated the word, serendipity.   Happy surprises is a good way to understand serendipity.   I like to think that serendipity is always a good deal, so I welcome it.   It is different from luck, which can go both ways, as we know.   Serendipity is a form of grace, as I see it.   It comes unbeckoned.   You don’t plan or scheme for it.   You cannot make it happen.   All you can do is respond to it and appreciate it.   I cringe at how often I must have missed it because I was too busy or preoccupied.   I suspect much of the contemplative way of being spiritual is learning to be aware of and appreciate serendipity.             Recently serendipity visited me again.   As often is the case, I did not actually know what was given to me.   Its origin was very simple.   I had published a short article, which is a nice experience in and of itself.   It is always affirming when someone says yes to sharing some of my words with the public.   It was a

      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  t

I convene a weekly group that gathers to discuss spirituality and our lives.  It is a wonderful group made up of so many diverse, loving characters.  We have all sorts of folks from athletes to musicians.  Some are still working and some are retired.  It is a group which gathers simply because we want to gather.  There is no credit, no prestige---nothing---in the fact that we do it.  Requiring any kind of attendance or participation would radically change the group.  I would probably drop out!             Typically, we read a book to provoke some thoughts.  But we are not a book group.  One of the books we have worked with is Sophfonia Scott’s, The Seeker and the Monk .  Scott is the seeker and the monk she puts herself into dialogue with is Thomas Merton.  Merton died in 1968, so Scott never met him. He was Catholic; she is not.  She is an African American woman.  Merton is neither. One of the chapters in the book focuses on racism and her experience as a black woman with that reality