Monday, June 21

Tag: purpose

A Vacation From Vocation

A Vacation From Vocation

Yes, I do realize that I have already published what I really did think, at the time, was my farewell / ave atque vale “Skeptic’s Collection” column. But there is a matter that has been percolating in the back of my mind for some time:  the issue, and the very concept of, “religious vocation”. (I will deal only with Christian vocations in what follows, since Christianity is the religious tradition with which I am most familiar. But I would argue that the following remarks apply, mutatis mutandis, to all monotheistic religious faiths.) So … in styling my supposedly final column as my final column … mea culpa! … I lied. So let’s jump squarely into the middle of my heresy du jour, shall we? Over the past roughly 30 years, I have come to believe – based on bitter personal experi...
What is prayer? Why pray? What is a Humanist or Christian to do?

What is prayer? Why pray? What is a Humanist or Christian to do?

prayer, Prayer Practice, spiritual practice, Spirituality
Some thoughts on prayer this morning. They may be a little haphazard or discombobulated, but bear with me and forgive me if I have left something out! Sometimes, I believe the word prayer is a trigger for folks. For those who are not religious or who have been to hell and back with their previously identified religion, prayer is like a hammer. If you only prayed hard enough. I know people have heard this phrase. And these words are so very wrong. A friend of mine had a son with leukemia, and people literally said this to her. Along with variations such as, "What did your family do to bring this upon themselves?" Gross. I'm going to throw down some thoughts about prayer that are personal, not researched, but relying upon years of praying and reading. And years of encountering folks wh...

The Glass Moon

inner peace, Joy, poem, Poetry
have you noticed the many qualities of the night, the way it can inspire a sudden sense of fantasy, coming on to you like a dandy, cheeky and strutting it temps you to pluck its gaudy sequins and string them into garland or maybe take its hand to skate across the glass moon or to twirl on the lunatic edge and the cusp of intuition: oh! the depth of knowing . . . beauty in night winds leaves you breathless; and have you seen how quiet meditations on midnight hues illuminate the book of your life like the bright gold and jewel colors of a medieval manuscript, moving you page by page with the same fluid arabesque as a dancer or the sweet heat of a lover’s fingers sketching secrets on your heart and sharing messages like old souls tend to do; then, in a sudden burst of starlight, you understan...