When was the last time you participated in something sacred with 1.5 billion people? The thought of that may sound exciting or possibly a little daunting, but I can tell you it is enlightening and deeply rewarding.

Reminding us symbolically of this union of body and spirit, Jesus took a loaf of bread, broke it like we are often broken in our relationships with one another, and showed us the way to reconciliation by asking us to share our bread with one another in remembrance of his own example.

  “Look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Try to make sense of what you see, and wonder about what makes the universe exist. Be curious” (Stephen Hawking, 1942-2018) “The sense of wonder, …

How to ‘be there’ for the people who need you most.

Why do we seem inherently unable to be more responsive to the world’s needs; where instead we seem instinctually inclined to put ourselves and our own needs ahead of everything and everyone else? What might we do to be less inclined to reflect what seems to be so much a part of our human nature? If there is anything akin to a sacred spark within us, with the example of Jesus’ own way of the cross?

Mothers’ Day is not on the church’s liturgical calendar and yet the statisticians tell us that church attendance on Mothers’ Day is surpassed only by Christmas and Easter. Worship leaders who fail to mark the importance of this day do so at their peril; the same kind of peril that compels so many reluctant offspring to accompany their mothers to church. However, a simple liturgical nod in the direction of mothers or an over-the-top sentimental sermon all too often fails to capture the magnitude of the day’s significance in the history of women.

Two of my favorite places in Paris are the Basilica of the Sacred Heart in Montmartre and the Cathedral of Notre Dame. One can’t help be raptured by their architectural beauty, enduring tradition and the inspired art that adorns these honored places. But the fire in the Notre Dame Cathedral reminds us of the temporality of these sacred structures and artifacts. Or as the Buddhists would say, “nothing is permanent,” a reality that forces us to look more deeply into what a symbol represents and calls us to ponder.

It is my deepest desire to return light and sound to our cosmos for the benefit of all humanity. I know that in my heart of hearts, this intention of singing and speaking clearly my desire to uplift humanity at this particular time on the earth plane is what I came here for and I hope it is for my Highest Good for all concerned. 

We respond in awe to our life in God’s realm.
The Essence of Creation encompasses us,

The profundity of Christianity is that nothing in it has but one meaning.

So it is with Easter Week.

Are you envious because of my generosity? The question seemed to jump off the page. Far too often, I have felt envious because someone got something I felt I was entitled to – and I realized that I, like the laborers in the vineyard, begrudge God’s generosity. And, of course, envy and entitlement are major impediments when it comes to living a truly grateful life.

Every Sunday I stand at the altar and preside over a mystery. A mystery that has its roots in the events we remember this Holy Thursday. On Maundy Thursday, we gather together to contemplate MYSTERY. We know what will happen tomorrow as Good Friday plunges us into darkness. So is it any wonder that we cannot fully comprehend this MYSTERY.

Went with the gotta go urge
On a week ending, road bending
Wheels a turning ramble
Past the malls and urban tangle

Why do you think so many churches mostly practice charity rather than justice?

The world is not short on hostile insults and senseless arguments, but the world is quite bereft of kindness. Much of the social hostility we encounter comes from the pain that people have experienced that we know nothing about. We are surrounded by the walking wounded who do not need to discover how quick we can be with an eviscerating retort. What they need from us is kindness . . . undeserved, perhaps, but we can help the world to become more deserving if we will scatter seeds of kindness.

I get the idea: thinking leads to judgment, and judgment leads to problems.

If there is any one message the Bible delivers, it is the message that God loves outcasts and that Jesus was born into the world an outcast to rescue and renew outcasts from religion gone bad. He was born poor and died poor, yet the legacy of love he left us, the legacy of inclusion and acceptance and understanding, will endure forever.

A few weeks ago, I went on a pilgrimage to a tree. Yes, a tree. A single, extraordinary tree named Pando. I’ve loved trees my entire life – their height, shade, spread, and grandeur, the distinctive beauty of each one. When I was little, I drew hundreds of pictures of trees. Despite their uniqueness, each individual tree looked remarkably like the others – a thick brown stick with a green cloud-like puff at the top. One tree, two trees, three . . . sometimes I would draw an entire forest of these trunks and leaves.