Mystical Murmurs: My Interfaith Life

I don't read a lot of the humor I get on email, but this one seemed worthy of posting, in view of the potential schism in the ECUSA about ordaining gay folk and celebrating same-sex marriage. I wouldn't ordinarily poke fun at Leviticus (honest!), but this is too good not to pass on. All the fundamentalists can just sit on this and spin! "Dr. Laura Schlessinger is a radio personality who dispenses advice to people who call in to her radio show. Recently, she said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22 and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following is an open letter to Dr. Laura penned by an East Coast resident, which was posted on the Internet. It's funny, as well as informative: Dear Dr. Laura: Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend t

I am frustrated with my children. This is not a new feeling, but now that they are adults, I try to treat them as adults. So I don't act out. But I want to! My 20-year-old daughter is a brilliant girl, studying biology. But she is still clinging to the same boyfriend she had in high school, who is not in college, and works for a nearby borough in the Public Works Dept. He's a sweet guy, and I'm fond of him. But I don't think he'll go the distance. I think if she marries him, she'll be sorry later. I want her to take a risk -- meet new people. Easy for me to say! As she points out, this isn't my business. My 23-year-old son is a challenge of a different sort. He has hated school since kindergarten, and has finally dropped out of college (for the third time). Now he's thinking about trade school. I think it's a good idea -- but I've seen him quit school so often that I have no faith in this new plan. How do I muster up any enthusiasm? I need to bi

This Lent, in my walk with Christ, I plan to actually walk with Christ. I've given up escalators and elevators for Lent. Ok, stop laughing! I know this sounds like a pretty feeble sacrifice, but you have no idea how lazy I really am! This is a huge thing for me. I'll keep you posted as to my progress, assuming I don't drop dead.

I am, as I mentioned to my rector today in an email, foaming at the mouth about the meeting of the Anglican Primates in Tanzania, and especially because some bishops from the Global South refused to participate in the Eucharist with our own Bishop Katharine, due to the Episcopal Church's liberal views. I don't have any real perspective on this, and I don't even pretend to be objective. I don't see how anyone, for any reason, could assume that the church has a right to reject God's call to non-celibate gays and lesbians, who have historically not been allowed to marry! It's the old "Catch-22." Get a clue, Africa! OK. Down, girl. My rector says to remain calm, and to pray hard for all involved. Bishop Katharine's reflection on the Tanzania meeting, which you can read at the Episcopal News Service site (RSS feed is below), is careful to praise the non-controversial aspects of the gathering, and humble (and loving) in relating the rest. She clearly tak

With all due respect to the hardships suffered by the folks in upstate New York ... I am hoping and waiting for a snowstorm. Not that I want 100 inches of snow! Not at all! Two feet would be plenty! My husband and I would not have to go to work, and could sit home by the fire, surrounded by dogs. This is pretty much a picture of heaven for me. We have a chance of snow tomorrow night into Wednesday -- the first real storm of this rather feeble winter. My fingers are crossed!

There's lots of excitement this week at the Church on the Pike! The J2A (Journey to Adulthood) group moved into new, larger digs, where they can have a sofa and other soft seating, plus a TV with a DVD player. This was a great move for them and me! What they left behind is a basement room which the Rector said we could refit as a meditation chapel (we have a large chapel on the main floor, but people pass through it on the way to the kitchen and the bathrooms -- not very conducive to quiet prayer). Now, this basement room in itself is nothing to write home about. It's 8.5 feet wide and 40 feet long, and is illuminated by blindingly bright fluorescent lights (we are determined to find softer lighting). The blue carpet is elderly and stained. But the kids did paint it nicely when they vacated, and at one end we have placed the altar that used to be used for Sunday School chapel services. Bingo! Instant chapel! Now we just have to work on the fine points. I have lots of wonderful

Over the weekend the cold descended with a muffled thump, and I spent a lot of time in front of the fire finishing Story of a Soul , by St. Therese of Lisieux. Now, there's something wrong with this picture: there I was, all tucked up on my cosy couch, the fire roaring in the fireplace, a cup of chamomile tea next to me, and the head of my oldest dog resting on my lap. Now, Therese suffered gladly for Jesus. Therese begged Jesus for more suffering, so that she could endure it to His glory. Therese endured a really horrific two-day death agony from tuberculosis, without complaint. So, as a corollary, Therese should perhaps be read: --in the cold garage, in the dark, by flashlight --at the bus stop, in the wind and rain --on a dark and lonely road, waiting for the tow-truck --at a campsite in the lonely woods, when your food has run out, the campfire is dying, and some undoubtedly large, hungry beast is

Seems like the firewood I have piled on my porch won't go to waste after all, now that real winter has come at last. The mercury is likely to stay low for awhile, so tonight I plan to have a roaring fire. Snow or no snow, I like it cold. Even with the mild weather we've been having, it does seem like a kind of "dead" time of year. With Martin Luther King Day over, we now have no more time off till Memorial Day. It's a stretch till then! And everyone is sick. I ride public transit at my peril. I guess January and February are the time to hunker down. And I'm good at hunkering!

And so a new year begins. We are just back from a three-day visit to my mother-in-law and sister-in-law, in rural central New York State. This is one of my favorite places on earth, and it always does me good being there. There's an expansiveness there that the suburbs simply lack. The hills were (for the first time in winter that I can recall) totally brown and bare of snow. In fact, we saw no snow in the Poconos either, which must be giving ski-slope operators fits. But the distant hills with their copses of bare, black trees looked like wrinkled brown velvet, and I could not get enough of looking at them. Speaking of looking at things, I took a good look at myself in the bathroom mirror on New Year's Day. I had washed my hair but left it to dry by itself, and it had sorted itself into long, loose waves. Right then and there, it occurred to me that I very much resemble a middle-aged cocker spaniel with glasses. I suppose it could be worse! I guess I could make a resolution to