Yesterday I heard an anarchist preach in song about the Robin Hoods of the world–linking them to Jesus in ways that should put the pause button on for all of us who see in Jesus a liberator who (like the God of the Jewish prophets) sides with the underdog, the oppressed, the poor. Continue Reading
When I pray, “Our Father…” whom, exactly, does “Our” include? I remember several years ago, standing in the checkout line at Food Fair in Montgomery, Alabama, having an epiphany that had to do with that first word of Jesus’ prayer. Continue Reading
Do you think Benedict and Scholastica were something like disciplined hippies?
I’m not sure if the phrase is welcome or offensive, but I’ve been pondering it this past week. The phrase suddenly flew into my head when I was thinking about the person I’ve begun dating and the things we have in common. Continue Reading
Tonight I am thinking of the hospitality of a cranky vituperative relative of mine, my Uncle Omer. He lives in a town of about 400 people in the center of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and perhaps I am thinking of him tonight because the wind has been wicked here in west central Illinois. Uncle Omer is often out in bad weather, for he’s the township supervisor, and one of his jobs is the drive the snowplow over the whole township, something he begins doing in the middle of the night, so that the roads are clear each dawn. Continue Reading
Today brought a lovely fog (along with a month’s worth of rain). I like fog. It silhouettes the bare trees gorgeously. It lies caressingly on the skin. It envelopes one as one walks, offering an hospitably protective privacy and a stillness that is unaffected by motion. Fog absorbs sound as much as cold and snow make it crackle. Fog is a gift of spring that is usually out-heralded by warmth and flowers. It is an essential consequence of the acquaintance of warming air and a lingering coldness in the ground. Continue Reading
Walking in tempo with the Spirit: this is a refrain with me at least since my college years, when I felt after playing the harpsichord one day that the music even afterwards was communicating between my feet and the ground as I walked back across campus. Perhaps this memory is why the image of “walking” rather than dancing occurs to me; although it could also be because walking suggests a journey, whereas dancing suggests sheer sabbath delight in the present moment (interestingly, the way Ric describes feeling on the bicycle, for though he’s moving in a direction, it’s for the sensation of riding, not to get to a destination). Continue Reading
Spring has paid us a delicious couple of visits over the past month. We all know that it’s not the real thing; neither do we care. We all seem to share a collective willingness to accept the gift and get out in it, most of us with some physical activity. I have taken Spring’s visits as opportunities to take to the road on my bike. Continue Reading
Ric has written of the Benedictine qualities of his canine companion, and the Psalms often depict animals gamboling about and rejoicing before God. And of all the many events of this past week in my own life, the one that stands out the most just now concerns another interspecies encounter. Continue Reading
Though I sense I am a minority among Oblates on this score, statistically there are a great number of women and men over 30 who are not settled in a marriage, yet not called to a vocation of celibacy, and not always easily classifiable as “single.” Continue Reading
Benedictine Oblate Musings 