Mystical Murmurs: My Interfaith Life

During a brief lull between 10:00 church and a course I planned to take at church this afternoon, my husband and I walked all three dogs off-leash (shh! Illegal ...) at a county park about fifteen minutes away from home. Our older dog is quite at home in the wild (so to speak!), and sort of went her own way. The puppies, who are littermates nearly a year old, mostly hung together, though whenever I lagged behind they would circle around, one at a time, to make sure I was still there. At one point, though, they took off running, and all sorts of things went through our minds: motorbikes, larger, vicious dogs, whatever. But I raised my voice and called, and they came right back, hearing my voice. Later, during the course, the Rector explained that you can herd cows, but sheep have to be led, and they are typically led by a familiar voice, which they recognize and follow. The sheep have a relationship with the shepherd, whom they trust. This, despite my 53 years of being an Episcopalian, ...

Your Life is 48% Green You're life is pretty green - and you know a lot about how to live an eco friendly life. So congratulate yourself for being good to the earth. And maybe think about implementing some of the ideas from this quiz! How Green Is Your Life? OK, I know I could be doing better. But I was pleased to even get 48% on this quiz! I need to minimize the car trips and turn off the AC more often, assuming those at home will permit it! And I need to get a few cloth grocery bags (where do they come from??) and pay attention to packaging. And (sigh) I guess I need to go more often to the library instead of buying books. Easier said than done!

I've just finished reading Markides's The Mountain of Silence , a sociologist's account of his experience with Orthodox spiritual practices in his homeland of Cyprus. The author makes the point that the Eastern Church, unlike the Roman Church in the West, never became involved in the secular concerns of the state, and so developed along a different, more mystical path, demonstrated most prominently by the monastic state of Mount Athos (the "Holy Mountain") in Greece, the site of many Orthodox monasteries like the one at right. Now, I haven't taken a history course in years (about 30 of them!), but I don't recall ever studying Byzantium. Seems like it was considered the poor step-sister of the West; many historians tend to focus on Rome and its fall, and the development of the European states. So it's probably time I read more about the Orthodox Church. Better late than never! But this was a great book, and I recommend it.

This is what every parent of a Virginia Tech student wanted to hear this morning. My good friend Carolyn did hear it. Her son, Lee, was on his way to his engineering class in the very building where the shootings occurred, when a friend called his cell phone and advised him to return home. So Lee is safe tonight. But so many others are not. I cannot even imagine what prompts a person to take life, especially on this scale. And I can't imagine what it is like to be one of the parents of those murdered. My mind won't go there. How do you recover after your child is murdered in cold blood? And how many dead people will it take, in our cities, in our suburbs, on our campuses, before we get legislation to control guns? What do the Republicans not understand about this? And why do I bother to ask? Because so many people are dead tonight. That's why.

Life is precarious. We all know this, but we often forget it until reminded. Yesterday morning, my colleague and good friend got a telephone call from his wife at her office, informing him that a neighbor had spotted flames at their house, and had called 911. He and his wife both raced home. Both their boys were safely at school, so that was not a worry. But the fire had apparently burned for nearly two hours without detection, so the house was pretty much a total loss. But the newspaper this morning captured the worst part: "House fire kills pet dog." Glacier the husky was in his crate when the fire erupted. He died from the intense smoke and heat. I refuse to picture this in my mind. The family is distraught, especially the two boys, aged 7 and 5. They can rebuild the house, and get more "stuff." But Glacier is gone forever. Or at least in this life. Dogs, like people, should grow old and die in their beds. No one deserves to go this way. I guess time and faith wi...

Easter Sunday was wonderful, though the weather was cold here. After singing two long services that morning, I should have been dead on my feet -- but all I could think was "He is risen!" I went home and cooked furiously, and (for once) everyone came to the table without squabbling about anything. No sooner had my Easter euphoria worn off, however, than bad news hit. One of the parish's dearest older members passed away peacefully in the hospital on Easter afternoon. Not such a bad time to die, I guess -- but I will miss her. I had planned to visit her on Holy Saturday, but caved into time pressures and did not. There's a real lesson here for me. Never put it off. At her viewing this evening, she looked as calm, gracious and elegant in death as she had in life. And it made me smile to see that at her feet were the ashes of her beloved German Shepherd, Basil. I am planning on this, too -- I want all my doggies with me when I rise! On Holy Saturday the parish lost ano...

12:20 AM. It's Holy Saturday now, and I should be in bed. But my mind is racing. During the Triduum, I lose track of time. One disaster follows another. They blend together. On Maundy Thursday, our Lord is betrayed, and led away; we strip His altar, and the Rector washes the cold marble surface with vinegar. We leave the chancel in darkness, by the side aisles, without reverencing the cross. We have removed our choir cottas while the altar was stripped; mine trails along, limp and white in my hand. Like Lot's wife, I always turn in my grief and look back. The empty tabernacle yawns open. The darkness of the church is unbroken. The congregation shuffles out quietly in the shadows. No one speaks. In the garden of repose, it's nearly as dark. Ten candles are alight on the smaller altar where the bread and wine have been placed. Forsythia blooms in vases, and the lilies have opened. On the windowsills, clear votives glimmer. The weather has turned unseasonably cold, and the wi...