Mystical Murmurs: My Interfaith Life

Since the horrific shootings in Connecticut, I feel as though I've been wandering in a fog. I was home sick that day, last Friday when it happened, so I was aware early on that life had changed--again. Life changes (or it should) whenever we hear of an act of terrible violence near or far, but, as all the commentators say, "this feels different." This act of mass murder has peeled back America's the last deceptive layer of civility. What's been revealed -- the ugliness of a society in love with guns and violence -- is not easy to behold. It's as though we've taken a step back into the Wild West. So our Christmas tree is up; the lights, by sheer chance, are blue.  Josh Groban is singing quiet carols in the background. Last night, Santa went by on a firetruck. My neighbors have an obscenely fat, inflated Santa on their lawn (most years I would have a snarky comment about this, but alas...this year, it hardly seems worth the effort). So, I'm going t

Here on the cusp of Advent, I am having trouble getting into the season.Some friends suffered great losses during Hurricane Sandy. A dear friend has cancer. Another friend just lost an old, beloved dog. My husband is losing his job at the end of January. Of course, it could always be worse -- this almost goes without saying. But I'm just not ready for the Christmas onslaught. A local radio station started playing 24/7 Christmas music on Thanksgiving Day (seriously). The local Starbucks assaulted my ears this morning with jazzy versions of holiday tunes. The shops ... well, forget the shops. The mall traffic is unceasing, the drivers are hostile, all in competition for that ol' Christmas cheer. I'm staying home. But I am going to a women's quiet day this Saturday, at a local church. What I need is a quiet month, but this day will be a start. When I get home, I'll set up the Advent wreath -- I'm using votives this year, for a change. As our Advent introit p

We scrambled all day yesterday to get ready for Hurricane Sandy. It was arduous: the hunt for flashlights and batteries, the attempt to consume frozen food, hauling the outdoor furniture inside ... you know the drill. Or maybe you don't. I certainly didn't. We've been told to prepare for up to ten days without power. Ten days? Ten days!  It's a whole new definition of hardship for me, little suburban hothouse flower that I am. So, I have an armada of flashlights, camping lanterns, and candles, ready to deploy at a moment's notice. I bought those non-perishables, too: crackers, fruits, nuts, and the ever-popular peanut butter. How long can I live on peanut butter and Wheat Thins (reduced fat version)? What I'm lacking in this experience is ... well ... experience.  I have no idea what to expect. The last time a powerful hurricane really hit the Delmarva area, I was an infant (yes, it was  that long ago). At the moment we have only light rain and a br

Autumn is my favorite season.  I look forward to the retreat of summer's heat and the arrival of crisp, dry air.  Unpacking the seasonal decorations, buying that gallon or two of apple cider, and trying a new variety of apple -- all these things help me mark the new season, keep me aware of the passage of precious time. The autumn equinox is always observed with extra candles at my house (in this respect, as in others, I am a little bit Pagan), and I look forward to the extra hour of sleep that the end of Daylight Saving brings. And I don't mind the early dark.  Mom used to say there was no better feeling than to draw the living-room curtains at night, and to know that everyone she loved was safe and well fed. By the beginning of October, my son has always got plenty of firewood stacked for me, and that first fire of the season prepares me to settle in for winter. We haven't yet had the first fire -- last year we had such warm weather that I could probably number the fi

My little Episcopal church was founded in 1789, a little wooden church on a hill. The original wooden structure was replaced by a stone church in the middle of the nineteenth century.  The church has historic landmark status (my friends in Europe find this hilarious), as does the surrounding churchyard. Among the worthies buried there are one Aaron Chew, for whom the Chews Landing area is named. He was a Revolutionary War hero, as the story goes. One of his buddies, who contributed a few pence (but not many) to the church building fund, was a guy named G. Washington. Read more about the church and its history, if you're interested,   here . We're very proud of our little churchyard, but I had assumed that by this date all the plots were spoken for, if not actually inhabited. Not so! There is, in fact, some real estate still left there. And J. and I are now the proud owners of two plots, near the southern churchyard fence, under some towering trees, and with an unbroken view