.....Advertisement.....
.....Advertisement.....

Religion

  • Silence is more than speechlessness

    I recently read an article by Carolyn Gregoire in which she proclaimed the value of silence. In our house, quiet reigns supreme. It’s not that Hubby Dear and I never talk. More to the point, it is about giving ourselves time to be still and know the presence of divinity in our midst. Even more so, it is allowing ourselves to be quiet in the presence so that we can experience it everywhere and in everyone.

  • What does it mean to be a person?

    I remember the day and time when I first heard someone refer to my infant daughter as a person. The wooden threshold of our kitchen doorway was in need of repair. I began the typical search for a carpenter to fix it and stumbled upon a delightful man who arrived with tools in hand and a smile on his face. A heavy accent indicated his Jewish heritage and made our conversation a tad stilted at first.

  • On being thanks-givers

    Note: This is an amended version of a column published in 2003 when I first became the Beacon’s religion columnist.

     

  • Homelessness is time out of mind

    It was 2016, the year Richard Gere engaged with the invisibility of homelessness. For him, it was time out of mind. For the homeless ones, it remains enigmatic, a lengthy duration of time, longer than is readily remembered. It is also deeply embedded in a memory bank which gains interest with each passing moment. Homelessness is not a condition; nor is it a learned lifestyle. It is not so much a choice as an accepted reality. It is not desirable or desired yet it persists. Homelessness is truly time out of mind as much as it is a mind out of time.

  • The power of forgiveness is an unfolding mystery

    I often write of my ongoing admiration of Richard Rohr, OFM. However, his recent series of meditations on the power of forgiveness has me reeling with awe and kneeling in contemplation of the wonder and strength encased in clemency. 

  • Sometimes welcoming is hard to do
  • Two words make all the difference

    I love words. I love the ones that come tumbling from the depths of my being, disturbing and delighting as they rush headlong onto the pages of my life as well as my computer screen. I love those whose presence is elusive, dancing in and out of my consciousness and teasing me with surprise. The more the merrier, or so I think. Words matter. 

  • Sinning by silence

    Let me begin with a disclaimer. I am not nor ever have been engulfed in poverty. I have never been embraced by homelessness. I have only slightly and lightly engaged with the unending brick walls of regulatory systems. So, I come as an outsider looking in. I come as one who has only observed the frustration of always asking, always begging, always being beholden to another. I have not experienced it on a regular basis.

  • We are tenant farmers in God’s garden

    Sometimes it seems as if we are presented with a picture of God as a powerful judge. More to the point, God’s judgment is viewed as one from which there is no recourse. I can almost hear a divine voice booming: “Do what I say — or else!” The words echo some of my less enlightened parenting days, days when I made that demand and expected complete and immediate obedience.

  • I am Jonah

    I hear God calling me. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to do what I am clearly being asked to do. It’s too hard. I am afraid … more fearful of what might be than of what is. So, I run away. I flee to that which is more comfortable, easier, more palatable … and far from the God who asks what I don’t want to hear.