Mystical Murmurs: My Interfaith Life

Icons ? I can hear my mother's voice now. She was never shy about expressing herself. Icons? What's next, a plastic light-up Virgin Mary for the front lawn? A little grotto back by the birdbath? Mom was fiercely protestant (maybe, in her case, Protestant -- and Episcopal "low church"). Communion should be once a month, whether you needed it or not. I never saw her cross herself. Confession? We do that all together on Sunday. Who needs to do that in a dark, little booth? And icons? Forget it! Maybe she would be relieved by my very sparing and judicious use of icons (I would be more lavish, but my study is a very small room). Mother Julian, Jesus, Mary, and assorted saints line one bookshelf. I have several wall crosses of varying styles, from stained glass to ceramic to wood. And then, above my desk, there's Big Jesus. Big Jesus is not really that big -- he's about 8" x 10". I picked this particular icon because, to my mind, its depiction

I had my annual mammogram this morning. Thank God, it was OK. This is a high-anxiety time for me, since I had the biopsy many years ago in 1991 (which was negative. Another big Thank God). At the radiology practice I use, they understand this anxiety, so the doctor reads the x-ray right away and lets you know. They also have a computer that scans the x-ray and double-checks the doctor. That's a big plus in my book. So I guess I'm good for another 12,000 miles. Thank you, Lord!

I've been tagged by Gabrielle for the "three-book meme." I, too, was an English major (how did we all end up in the blogosphere ?), lo these many years ago, and, yes, this task is daunting! How to narrow down my selections .... Hm. Generally, these days, I read nonfiction, and on specifically spiritual topics (how much I retain of what I read is another question!). This may be a reaction to having been immersed in belles- lettres forever. So, here goes: Nonfiction Revelations of Divine Love / Blessed Julian of Norwich. Julian rocks my world! The Cloister Walk / Kathleen Norris (also Dakota ) The Genesee Diary / Henri Nouwen Fiction The Return of the Native / Thomas Hardy. I reread this every couple of years. I, like Gabrielle, fixated on it at an early age. Last time I was in England, I went to Hardy's house, Max Gate, and although it was closed for the season, I sneaked around outside and looked in all the windows. I guess Hardy is kind of an obsession. I

Times change, and I guess we change with them. Or we don't, at our peril. At the library where I've worked since 1981, we are bowing to the pressures of technology. I have spent all day (actually I've spent a lot of time for a couple of years!) cancelling titles which are now available online. Lots of people go to the web first for their information now (and so do I, as a matter of fact), so libraries are cancelling lots of material in print, and subscribing to those materials electronically. None of this is a surprise. Pundits in Libraryland have been forecasting the death of print format, and while I don't think print will be completely dead for quite awhile, I have to admit that they've been right so far. Our library dumpsters are all full of titles we labored to acquire, catalog, process, and shelve over the years. Our blogs testify to how easily lots of us have adapted to the cyber world. What is surprising is how this feels, and how quickly it struck. As I

Last night we celebrated Christ's Ascension with a 7:30 service. We went all-out: choir, bell-choir, a wonderful homily, and a nice reception to follow. Too bad only 6 people came. OK, it was a week-night. OK, it was threatening to rain. But where was everyone? In the chancel, it was beastly hot. Sweat ran down between my shoulder-blades. The Rector had declined, when asked, to turn on the air conditioning (I wish, for him, 15 minutes of menopause!). After I nearly dropped the big E bell because my hand was so moist, it occurred to me that I should have changed out of the jeans that had now molded themselves to my rump. I guess Ascension seems like an anti-climax to some people. After Easter, attendance goes way down, as folks begin to open up their beach houses and dust off the golf clubs. Jesus has safely risen -- where's the sunscreen? We'll see you again when Sunday school starts up in the fall! Oh well. These services are not for us, after all. Jesus has ascended!