Mystical Murmurs: My Interfaith Life

Well, there goes another precept of my mom's about proper dress for all body types. Last night I wore flip-flops, which, I guess, is another transgression, especially in October, as were white shoes before Memorial Day. Sorry, mom. On this last day of October, I felt very Halloweeny, therefore the bright orange long-sleeved tee-shirt. I'm sure I look like a barrage balloon which has broken loose. Who cares? I am fortunate to have one of those jobs where you make decent money and they don't care how you dress, a situation I take increasing advantage of as I continue to slough off the fashion lessons of my youth. Actually I feel very close to my mom today, though she's been gone for nearly 11 years. Tomorrow both parents' names will be read aloud at our church's All Saints' Day service, and I will sniffle as I always do. Some things never go completely away.

I have just about finished a very challenging book recommended to me by someone at church: Holy Vulnerability , by Mike Flynn, an Episcopal priest. What an eye-opener! Fr. Flynn is part of the charismatic renewal movement within the Episcopal Church, and this book reflects that perspective. But what a different perspective from my own! The matter arose at the Church on the Pike when a friend asked me to pray that our church's own renewal might be successful and not fall prey to the "Evil One." I guess I got a funny look on my face when she said this to me, because I was immediately handed Fr. Flynn's book. Now, despite having seen The Exorcist 4 or 5 times when it first came out, and having read with great interest Malachi Martin's book Hostage to the Devil , I'm just not sure what I think about the objective reality of demons in this world, where so many problems can be attributed to man himself. But maybe not all problems. I have a good deal of thinking abo

The mercury fell into the high 30s last night, so I guess I can say fall has arrived. Meanwhile, they have two feet of snow in Buffalo -- I'm happy not to be dealing with that yet! My son had left for work and everyone else was still asleep when I left this morning. It was a perfect fall morning: the air was so cold I could see my breath, but there was no wind, so a little mist still hung in the trees, which have just started to turn to their fall colors. I stood still for a minute, just saying a prayer of thanks. If I'd had time, I would love to have made a cup of tea and sat on my front porch, all bundled up. The air was so clear it was like looking through crystal. I hate having to leave the house in the mornings. I am definitely, at least in middle age, quite the homebody. Tonight, if it stays chilly, I will definitely have a fire, and stay up late, reading. For some unknown reason, I have decided to try to learn a little biblical Greek (!), and got myself a textbook with a

Like everyone else, I am horrified by school violence, a problem I never had to worry about when I was in school myself. My kids were in high school when the Columbine shootings took place, and I remember well the paradigm shift I underwent as I had to acknowledge that my kids might not be safe after I dropped them off in the morning, and that I had no control over what might happen at the school, beyond my sight and hearing. Before Columbine, school violence certainly existed -- but it was the simple scale of the Columbine violence that reordered everyone's thinking. What darkness might be lurking in the hearts and minds of my kids' classmates? What violent plans might be hatching in fecund teenaged brains? And now it's a whole new ballgame, another paradigm shift, as I read somewhere the other day. Now we have to fear not only alienated, hate-filled teenagers, but alienated, hate-filled adults who have discovered in nearby schools an easy target for their rage. Adults w

A cold front has come through and we are enjoying a welcome break from early-fall warmth and humidity. The low tonight is predicted to be in the low 40s -- time to haul out a light blanket, at least. I'm too cheap to turn on the furnace for AT LEAST another two weeks! Fall is my favorite time of year. I love the colors, the scents, the crisp air. And it always seems like a new beginning -- I guess because I am still somewhat in tune with the academic year, and with church programming, which follows largely the same pattern. And I need a new beginning very badly. I've been in a slump; you could call it a time of aridity. My house is a mess, my prayer life is laborious, and my "exercise program" has become a myth. Actually, it's usually a myth! So this time is as good as any to try to get things in order. The whole weekend lies ahead, with nothing much planned (it's a miracle!). Time to get going.

At the end of last week it became clear to me, through items which arrived in the mail, that someone has been using my name to attempt to open credit card accounts! Yesterday morning, in examining my credit report, I learned with some bemusement that seven such attempts have been made in this month alone!! Someone has been very busy pretending to be me! (I wonder if he or she also wants to be middle-aged, short and plump? I'm a package deal.) Now that I have set up security alerts with all the credit reporting agencies, this type of attempt won't be successful (I hope). I tried not to lose much sleep over it all, in any case. And yet -- this event did bring home to me the fact that my reputation for reliability, reflected in my good credit record, is very important to me. Despite all we hear at the Church on the Pike about how infinitely precious we are to God, just as we are and with all our wrinkles unsmoothed, apparently I also care quite a bit about my "good name&quo

This past week I've been reading Henri Nouwen's The Genesee Diary , which he wrote during the period June-December, 1974, when he was on retreat in a Trappist abbey in New York State. This is something I would love to do, even if only for a month. Actually, a week would suffice! Now that I've been back at work for a few days, I can barely recall that I was on retreat at all. Clearly this is something I should do a few times a year. What I like best about Nouwen's diary is the essential humanity of the man that is evident no matter where you open the book! He writes about his own, most human, foibles, which he has brought with him even into this holy place: hurt feelings, petty jealousies, aggravation when assigned unfulfilling work; and about the niggling worry, as the term of the retreat passes, about whether what he has learned about God and about himself can be taken back and demonstrated in his normal daily life. One passage I find particularly appealing deals with