Mystical Murmurs: My Interfaith Life

A plane carrying 300 souls is shot out of the sky over Ukraine. There's a  massacre of Christians going on in Iraq. Israel and Gaza are throwing missiles at each another. And, potentially, we might enter a new Cold War with Russia, while North Korea's Dear Leader shoots off some missiles just because he can. Folks, things are not good. In case you missed it, the world is going to hell in a handbasket. Even profit-driven airlines are considering new, longer routes in order to avoid "conflict areas."  These areas comprise a great deal of Africa and the Middle East. Oh, I nearly forgot ebola. Anyone see that movie Contagion ? No? Well, this is not a good time. Give it a pass for now. It's hard, even for someone who's rather genetically cheerful, to see how any of these world events is going to have hopeful outcomes.  I don't believe in that "End Times" crap, but I can (almost) see why a person might . Another thing I've noticed,

A new chapter of life has begun for J. and me. Our son, our older child, moved out over the weekend. The long hall in the picture leads to the room containing the few items he left behind. I thought I had great plans for this room. An enlargement of our library? A spot for yoga,  meditation, or even a good place to do group spiritual direction?  I intended to get right in there to pull up the nasty denim-blue rug which 16 years of life with our son has virtually destroyed. Those awful curtains he wanted? They're goners. I was going to blast through there like a small tornado. Instead, something blasted through me. I stood in the middle of my son's room, and felt as emptied out as the space. J. felt the same. Tears came off and on. We watched movies and ate comfort food. I ate ice cream three times yesterday. Today I feel better. Still empty, but with better balance. Grieving the change, but in proportion.What is parenthood but an emptying out, a kenosis ?  We do

The subway in Philadelphia has been my School of Life. I've learned more by riding the subway than from the thousands of books I have read, the multiple degrees I have earned, and all the religious communities where I've been a member. Ten times a week, I ride the subway from the end of my commuter train out to the University where I work. Some, like me, are going to their jobs on campus. Some are coming off third-shift jobs and heading for home. Lots of moms are taking their kids to day-care, before going to work themselves. Older people may be heading out to shop, or to a doctor's appointment. Catholic schoolgirls, in short uniform skirts and knee-socks, are riding reluctantly to school. In the winter, by the time February arrives, everyone looks gray and tired, huddled lumps of misery and winter-weariness in heavy coats and boots. In the summer, the tone is upbeat: lighter, colorful summer clothes and smiles. And this I have learned: there are all kinds of people

Canticle 12 in the Book of Common Prayer is called "A Song of Creation." On p. 89, we find the following text: Glorify the Lord, O nights and days, O shining light and enfolding dark... This canticle is my favorite, since it includes the cosmic order, the earth, and earth's peoples.All of these are to glorify the Lord, who made them. It also includes the night, my favorite time. I admit readily to being a "night person." I awaken reluctantly in the morning, and hit my stride after 9 PM. I'm especially happy out on the porch at night.  When I was a child, we had no air conditioning (yes, it was that long ago!), so our nights were cooled by a huge exhaust fan in the upstairs hallway, which pulled in the cooler outside air through every open window. Many of us have lost that gift of an open window, in our hermetically-sealed, air-cooled homes. My bed was against the wall, with the foot under my bedroom window. If I lay wrongside-round (with my head

I live in a town that I love in most respects. I have great neighbors, who can be counted on to help in a crisis. The town government is open and responsive, for the most part. The schools are great, and did well by my kids. But everyone seems to have a gardener. No one warned us of this before we moved in. For 16 years, we have been limping along on our own. Why all these gardeners? It's Great American Lawn fever, right in my town! Centuries from now, anthropologists will look back at the mid-twentieth century as the period when grass went mainstream. The wealthy always had nice lawns, of course. The word "greensward," meaning an area covered with green grass, was first used around the year 1600. After World War II, however, as home ownership became possible for many, lawn culture took off. My Dad loved his Great American Lawn. Every Saturday, out came the lawn mower, and my shirtless Dad would lovingly cut and groom his quarter-acre of green. In the early days o

To the left is my dining room table, which I have not seen in 13 years. OK, I should explain. I have not seen the top of it in 13 years. We never had a dining room in our old house. When we moved into the current house, presto! There was the dining room. We had nothing to put in it. It sat naked for a few years, though we finally did see our way to buying a room-sized rug for the spot. Finally we went to a furniture sale, and bought the table you see to the left. It's a gorgeous dark cherry, which we both love. The minute it was delivered, we stuck the table pad and a cloth on top of it.  Bye-bye, table. My mother also had a cherry dining table, and was very proud of it. Her table also lived in seclusion beneath the customary pad and cloth. I suppose she thought I might want it, and she wanted to preserve it for me. After she died, as we cleaned out the house, I knew I had to make a decision about whether to take the table. I pulled off the cloth and pads. There it was

Earth Day, April 22, was so close to Easter this year that we weren't able to properly acknowledge it in church. So on Saturday, May 3, we're going to have "Earth Day Morning Prayer," incorporating some of the resources on offer from Earth Ministry . Then we'll proceed outside (weather permitting) to plant the bulbs used to adorn our altars for Easter. This year's Earth Day got me thinking back again, one of my favorite pastimes.  To the left is an undated picture of the Edge Moor Power Plant, located near Wilmington, Delaware, right on the Delaware River. I grew up in the 1950s and 1960s about a mile or so from this bad boy, back in the days when it was coal-fired (in the interest of truth, I should tell you that the parent company announced in 2010 that the plant was converting to natural gas). Practically next-door to it was the Edge Moor Plant, a DuPont facility that made pigment for white paint. That whole part of the riverbank was just industrial hea