Mystical Murmurs: My Interfaith Life

It's been a very long winter. The hymn, "In the Bleak Midwinter" says it well. We've had "snow on snow" here in the middle-Atlantic states. I feel as if we have had snow on the ground most of the time since the second Sunday in Advent, when our first snow fell. That first snow was just a tease. We were thrilled -- it's relatively unusual for us to have snow before Christmas. This was light snow, fluffy and beautiful. Newly-installed Christmas lights looked even more brilliant and twinkly than usual. Travel was not much affected. Light snow is the best possible harbinger of the Christmas quickly approaching. It's a seasonal enhancement. After Christmas, however, the snows kept coming, accompanied by some of the coldest air we have had here in decades. The "Polar Vortex" settled over us, freezing the earth "hard as iron" (more hymn lyrics). My hardy fern on the porch shriveled up in mute protest. The heat pump could bare

Every year, our local ministerium celebrates the International Week of Prayer for Christian Unity  with an ecumenical service featuring separate musical offerings by four local church choirs, followed by two anthems performed as a massed choir. This year, St. John's choir dedicated our performance to Mr. Rodger Maro, who had been our organist and choir director for the last 15 years, until his death on June 23, 2013. We love and miss Rodger, and our last year with him was a time of great sadness but also of great closeness. Our wonderful new organist and choir director, Trish Fronczek, was key in helping us to prepare this musical tribute. The MP3 file that Trish recorded is at the link below. The first anthem is entitled, "Simple Song of Peace," and the second is "Night of Silence," which we sang a cappella. Preceding the performance, you will hear Phyllis Sowers, head of the choir, announcing the dedication. Click here!  You might also have to click &q

I can't promise a sing-along every week, but I've been listening to a lot of Peter Mayer's music lately, so here's a sample (see YouTube at end of post).  This is one of my favorite songs, "Church of the Earth," and it's a rehearsal tape. The singing stops at about 4 minutes. Lyrics are below, video follows. Enjoy! The ceiling is high To let your soul rise Up to the angels who teach you to fly And when you're weary of clouds It helps you back down And welcomes you home To this hallowed ground Chorus: It's gilded in gold, gilded in rust For heaven below and heaven above The heaven we know here in this world Here in our holy church of the earth The windows are wide So darkness and light Mystery and Beauty meet you inside And there's room enough To hold all of us Who gather in friendship Gather in love [Chorus] Church of life Ancient and bright Life that inside us shines Life that we share This is our prayer That we

On this little spiritual journey called life, I sometimes surprise myself ... and not in a good way. All my life I have floated along in my little liberal, progressive bubble. I proudly attend a liberal church. I work at a university, where all my colleagues share my opinions. I allow myself the luxury of thinking that most people agree with me. Because, why not? All the crazies are on Fox, right? Or in the red states (forming a long list of places where I can't retire). Well, today I learned differently, and it wasn't a lesson that went down easily.  At the end of the service this morning, a woman in our congregation rose to make an announcement. She is relatively new; we have chatted a few times, but I don't really know her. I'm embarrassed to admit that I can't remember her name. She proceeded to exhort all of us to eat all three meals at Chick-fil-A on January 21st, to show our support for their refusal to do business on Sundays. As my three constant read

Christmas week off is one of the "soft" benefits of working for a college or university. As much as I despair during the frenzy as Christmas approaches, I greatly love the quiet descending after Christmas  has passed.  Once I have gotten past the temptation to sleep late every morning, I begin to get up early, so as to say the morning office in peace, drink my coffee, and gaze out my study window to the view of treetops. Any goals I hope to achieve today can come later. The sun is up, the frost is upon the grass, and the luxury of an entire day awaits. Is it a measure of the frenzy of our culture that we so jealously, greedily clutch at our free time? I know every day should have this quiet, contemplative space built in, but I do not always achieve it. Tasks call to me.  But I don't have to do them now. Not yet. Let the quiet continue for a bit longer.  This is the day The Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it