Mystical Murmurs: My Interfaith Life

" US Republican presidential nominee Senator John McCain (R-AZ) reacts to almost heading the wrong way off the stage after shaking hands with Democratic presidential nominee Senator Barack Obama (D-IL) at the conclusion of the final presidential debate at Hofstra University in Hempstead, New York, October 15, 2008. REUTERS/Jim Bourg. "

As your resident political junkie, I have been glued to the TV for all the Obama/McCain debates, and for the Palin/Biden debate, which was arguably one of the great comedy shows of all time. I have not been able to get J. interested in watching, however -- he says he knows who he's voting for already. So he goes out to run 5 miles, and I snuggle down on the bed surrounded by dogs. Last night, fortified with a glass of wine and a big bowl of popcorn, I settled in. Shadow waited patiently for an occasional piece of popcorn. Amber reclined on her back, legs in the air, in what a friend of mine calls her "slutpuppy" pose. And Max growled occasionally at John McCain. I think he just doesn't like the squeaky, whiny voice. He didn't like Sarah Palin, either. She probably said "Doggone" one too many times for his taste.

I have often been critical of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, particularly in his dealings with the ECUSA and his treatment of Bishop Gene Robinson vis a vis the recent Lambeth meeting. The ABC has really nailed the financial crisis, however. He has this to say on his website. The entire piece is excellent, and details how modern people have lost sight of the fact that the global economy, and its financial products made by men, have the power to desperately hurt real human beings. The paragraph that most struck me, foe of any kind of fundamentalism that I am, was this one: Fundamentalism is a religious word, not inappropriate to the nature of the problem. Marx long ago observed the way in which unbridled capitalism became a kind of mythology, ascribing reality, power and agency to things that had no life in themselves; he was right about that, if about little else. And ascribing independent reality to what you have in fact made yourself is a perfect definition of what

At the Church on the Hill, pet owners got together this past Saturday afternoon to remember St. Francis, and to receive the annual blessing on our pets. The weather was splendid, cool and crisp, as we gathered in the lower parking lot. At my former church, we did this service inside, but the Church on the Hill is barely big enough to accommodate people, much less furry creatures! I took my three standard poodles: my geriatric Shadow, who's 12, and Max and Amber, who are 2 years old. Shadow is a little blind and a little deaf, and approached the whole thing with a zen-like resignation. Not so the youngsters! They had never before been on the split lead, so they spent a lot of time figuring out that they had to walk nicely right next to each other. It was very funny to watch! We had about 15 dogs in attendance, and one bird. One of the dogs was a chihuahua, and totally adorable; unfortunately, Max suspected she was a rodent, and made every attempt to eat her! Her owners were very u

My canine-loving heart is just breaking over this story in today's Philadelphia Inquirer. I want to run right up there, fill my car with dogs and cats, and bring them home. The kennel operator potentially faces over a million dollars in fines -- but apparently no jail time. I say lock 'im up and throw away the key.