Mystical Murmurs: My Interfaith Life

Now here's a government program I don't mind supporting with my hard-earned taxes: NORAD's Santa Tracker . As I write, Santa is all the way over on the far side of the International Date Line, making good progress in Southeast Asia. It's certainly great to be using these sophisticated (and expensive) defense systems for something other than defense. Merry Christmas, NORAD folks!

My mother died of lung cancer fourteen years ago this past December 15 th . It's amazing to me how long she has been gone! She was diagnosed only in the autumn of that year, passed away quietly at home on a Friday evening, and was buried in the middle of a wild, early snowstorm on December 20 th . I was grateful that she had been spared most of the physical suffering that usually accompanies this type of cancer, and had resigned myself to letting her depart in peace. My Dad, however, was inconsolable. Since retiring, he had built his whole life around Mom. She was the sun around which his little planet revolved. He had planned to die first, and could not believe that she had somehow predeceased him. He had no hobbies. He had no faith to sustain him. He insisted that no one had ever felt this way before; no one could help him with his grief. He would not come home with me for Christmas. He wanted to be alone. In the late afternoon of Christmas Eve, Dad went to the cemetery,

As you'll see from the photo of our front porch, our region got an unexpected snowstorm last weekend, and it turned out to be the second-deepest snowfall for us since records have been kept: a whopping 23.2 inches. We don't usually get this kind of snow in December, so we were taken by surprise! I took the photo towards the beginning of the day, so it doesn't do justice to the magnificent drifts which replaced these later. While many of our neighbors were able to sit inside by the fire, J. revved up the snowblower, as our son had to go to work -- the Post Office never closes, apparently. On Sunday morning, since the car was cleaned off, I thought I might as well go to church. It was a lovely service! Those present were the priest, the organist, two choir members, and a chalice bearer -- no one else. But how many do you need, anyway? Our rector removed her snow boots, revealing Christmas socks with Santa Clauses and snowflakes, hung a stole round her neck (on top of the Chri

I took a day off recently, and sought the quiet and comfort of my favorite retreat house, Francis House of Prayer . This is a sprawling farmhouse in the midst of 72 acres, most planted with soybeans. The view to the left is from the back of the house, and you can plainly see there is a labyrinth cut into the lawn! There, under the watchful eye of Sr. Marcy, I gathered with 10 other people to enjoy a day with God. It's so quiet there in the fields! It was a lovely fall day: chilly, with clouds and patches of blue sky, and a light wind. This is my favorite time of year, as the old year draws to its close, the days grow short, and I look forward to nights by the fire. I wandered outside after doing some lectio and still-prayer, to enjoy the glorious view. The leaves were sadly past their peak, but the open sweep of farmland seems like heaven to this suburbanite. The picture to the left is not very good (the light was fading), but you can see my favorite bench, with fields of soybean

My two or three faithful readers will have noted that I took down the last three flames I had posted about the troubles at my former parish. This was not done to minimize those troubles, or the exquisite pain they have caused to all my friends who, along with myself, became unwelcome in the place where they had worshiped, in most cases, for decades. Nor was this done because I lost my nerve. I haven't. I tried to speak up to the Rector when I saw things going terribly wrong at the Church on the Pike, and I tried to maintain that commentary on this blog as the situation evolved (or devolved, depending on your point of view). Now, every time I drive by the church, I expect to see a FOR SALE sign out front. The situation has become so grave that it is now in the capable and godly hands of our Bishop. I have said what I thought needed saying. Now, the Holy Spirit and the Bishop must do the sorting-out, and those of us who still care about the Church on the Pike must continue to suppor