The Celtic Monk

"When the moon is in the seventh house, and Jupiter aligns with Mars, then peace will guide the planet, and love will steer the stars." If you know the next line, you're officially old. I found those lyrics running around in my head this evening. I probably haven't heard the song for 30 years--could it be 40 years? I can picture the house I was living in, the rooms in the house where I listened to it, the friends who listened, sang and danced along with me. Music carves itself not only into our mind but also into our emotional memory. When The Age of Aquarius was in its zenith, I was young, daring, happy, hopeful and quite naive. What was that time like for you? It wasn't the opening line noted above that came to me first, however. The line that broke through into my consciousness as I was doing other things, was "harmony and understanding, sympathy and trust abounding..." It sounds more necessary to me today than it did then. In fact, it sounds

What a wondrous gift, on that still night, So long ago and far out of sight Did come to a couple, so young and so poor a little boy child -- who’d be called the Savior. They made their way to the shelter provided Set themselves up, in the stable that sided The food and the stalls where animals rest As yet unknowing, their boy child was blest. Was it the star, that awoke Mary’s heart To the holy night, of which she’s a part Of the unfolding story of God’s infinite love; Did she recognize His coo-ing as a voice from above? Or maybe it was Joseph, when the first shepherds came Who knew that from thence, everything would change; For the baby still whaling his loud borning cry; Was the baby Who willingly came forth to die. A legion of angels surrounded that stable; Guarded this family as best they were able. Though not even angels could understand What was to unfold as God, became man. Did the earth tremble? Was there a quake? When God came that night, born for our sake? In the spirits of

It's what she told me as we met for the first time: "I'm the new face of homelessness... I have 12 silk blouses, 9 strands of pearls and I'm homeless." She came to the church after being told she was number 12 on the list for a room at the shelter. There'd been a sign put up on the door of the house she was renting... it said: FORECLOSED. She had 7 days to evacuate with all her belongings. But she'd paid her rent. She'd paid first, last and a security deposit. The owner was long gone. She was a single mom with a daughter. She didn't have savings, they were just getting by. She needed someplace to stay for a a few weeks so she could re-save what she needed to get her and her daughter into another rental. Though not at the church that day, I received the call. And here's a good place to say that I don't believe in co-incidences only God-incidences. A single mom and the call comes to me. I was a single mom once, for 10 long years. Just ge

The quality of waiting crossed my mind this week as I sat in the dentist chair with both of his hands and an instrument or two from the hygentist shoved in my mouth. I was anxiously waiting for them to be finished with their work so I could get up from that most uncomfortable chair in which they lower my head below my heart... and that has no support for my lower back. I was done waiting before they were ready to deem me so. I also waited recently for a plane to land so that folks could file off, and I could be among the new board-ers. I was at O'Hare International with the temperature 35 degrees farenheit and dropping. There was a steady rain pelting the windows just trying to turn the rain into sleet and snow -- making the tarmack crew seek plastic slickers and shelter. Again, I was done waiting before Spirit Airlines was ready to deem me so. In contrast I've recently waited for a movie begin, waited in the drive-through lane at Steak n Shake for my chocolate shake, waited t

Let me begin by saying that I am truly thankful for each of you who faithfully read what I can't help but writing and how you've encouraged me along the way with your comments. You are a blessing in my life and this Thanksgiving Day, I am thankful to you and for you. And while I can be cynical about how impersonal "social networking" and other technologies are; last night I was thankful for Skype. Lauren (alomst 5 years old) who knows the story of "Beauty and the Beast" [but had never seen the Disney movie] and I could watch together while 1100 miles apart. It was delightful watching her face as she saw the animated images for the first time. So thankful. This past year I've been especially thankful for the opportunity to walk with folks through the ministry of spiritual direction and how God always shows up. Such a ministry was only a dream for years. Then, in what Scripture would call 'the fullness of time' - at a kairos moment - the pieces

It's a sign of the times. I mean the times since the financial market went south and everyone became afraid. It's a sign of the times. I mean the last few years when a lot of otherwise sane people became paranoid of a lot of things that before this time they didn't have the time to be afraid of. It's a sign of the times. When otherwise good and decent people act less than goodly and decently believing they are somehow entitled or even 'called' to act that way. It's worth the effort to stop every once in a while to examine who we are and the choices we make. Not so much to look at what we are doing but why; and to test the 'why' with reality and not merely wild imaginings. For instance, is what we're doing and what we're choosing, based on facts, on reality, on truth so well worn that it's become durable yet soft like tumbled leather... or is what we're choosing and what we're doing based on fear, on 'what if's'

The Peace River Spirituality Center's book group studied Joan Chittister's Called to Question this year. It's a book for grown-ups. It deals with a life of losses both run-of-the-mill and cataclysmic. Mostly however,its a diary of disappointments that touch each of our lives at the hands of parents, chilldren, friends, institutions, beliefs, The Church, God. We can add our own personal pain to to the list. But it's not Joan's ability to be in touch with disappointment that makes it a good study. It's not even how she faced into or made her way through the circumstances of her life. What makes it worth reading is the clarity with which she sees all of life (hers and ours). In her stories I learned that a worthy goal for this season of my life ought to be an honest assessing of who I am, where I am and where I am going. Time is too short for regrets or what if's that keep us in the past. I found it stunning when in one of the final chapters Chittister

On even the most mundane of days, we make thousands of decisions. Some are inconsequential, many are not. We might decide to drink tea or coffee, in the scheme of things, an inconsequential decision. Or we may be deciding whether to drink water or coffee which raises the stakes a little. We may decide to catch up on some work we've been meaning do - or use the spare moments to feed our soul. Our life is made up of such decisions. But there are other decisions that for better or worse plot the course of our well-being and that of those around us. In those moments, what is it that helps us make good decisions rather than poor ones? Why do some people's lives seem to clip along on an even keel while other's seem to shipwreck on some regular basis? On Wednesday while preparing to lead a class at Moorings Park, I ran across a piece from Chip Ingram on decision making. Chip offers that there are three elements needed to make good decisions: truth/wisdom - we kn

I opened my web browser the other morning to find a top story that originated in the financial section of Yahoo, entitled: "HOW TO HIDE FROM YOUR FRIENDS ON FACEBOOK." Where do I begin? The late night folks could have had a field day with this and perhaps they did; they begin their monologue way past my bedtime. I don't know if I'm more annoyed by the assumption that people as a matter of course "hide from their friends" or that anyone takes seriously the unfortunate moniker "friend" for the folks linked together on Facebook. Sorry to my 79 friends. We are among the fortunate if we have one or two good friends. We are blessed if we have a few. We are special if over a lifetime we need two hands to count them. When people fall within the parameters Yahoo cited, needing to be hidden from, they aren't friends, DUH. Perhaps we could pursue a class-action lawsuit against FACEBOOK for abuse of the word: friend. Our grounds could be that it'

There's a poem by Francis Thompson, The Hound of Heaven which was often quoted by Fr. Matthew in his talks after Compline at Gethsemani. It opens with these haunting lines: "down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter. Up vistaed hopes I sped; And shot, precipitated, adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears, from those strong Feet that followed, followed after." The poem came to mind early this morning, as this past week I've been 'hounded' by thoughts of wisdom. What is it? Who has it? How does one aquire it? How does one recognize it? One thing fairly clear is that wisdom is not conterminous with knowledge or age - a mistaken idea held by many. Living long enough does not make someone wise. Neither does amassing an alphabet soup after your name. Political savvy is sometimes confused with wisdom. Most

It’s Sunday morning and I went to church with Jesus, just the two of us. I walked the 20 minutes of the wooded path following the signs carefully placed to let travelers know where He is. As always I first passed St. Francis, then Mary Jesus’ mother along the way. Finally in the clearing I saw the way to where the three disciples were sleeping and then just beyond them, there He was. Since I had my GPS phone I marked the location of where I found Him. Now I can send His co-ordinates to anyone who’s interested. And since I knew it would sound like a far-fetched tale to anyone who hasn’t also gone to see Him, I took pictures. One of Jesus Himself at prayer. One of the rock I sat on for worship. For music a male and female cardinal did a duet. They also added a visual reminder that the Spirit was near as they flashed their red-orange feathers amidst the 100 different greens of the forest. The sermon was quite good. I told Jesus I didn’t have anything prepared for worship and He t

SUNRISE OVER THE BELL TOWER AT THE ABBEY OF GETHSEMANE I'm aware that my last post "THE CONSOLATION OF GOD" was both vague and heavy - and I thank those of you who quickly and compassionately responded through emails, phone calls and visits. What a blessing to have love reflected back into one's life. What a blessing to sense the Spirit of God speaking through friends who I admire, trust and love. Just this week a colleague [who isn't on the blog roll] phoned me saying he just heard the news via the Presbytery Grapevine that my kids and grandkids were moving from down the street to 1,500 miles away. Yes, its true. But next he said the most remarkable thing. He said "I've called to cry with you" and he meant it. While the heaviness of their leaving does grip me, I've been blessed to allow my tears to come and to go. Pondering this new reality, I'm reminded of the little scripture phrase that says it this way: "It came to pass." I

I just returned from a walk on the path which leads halfway around Lake Sagatagan on the campus of St. John's. It's how I began my time here on Friday morning of last week and now that the retreat is over, I took the opportunity to end as I began - in silence. Much has happened since I arrived here Thursday evening weary from a 15 hour commute on trains, planes and automobiles. The prayer times have been full, rich and moving. I've made new friends among the oblates gathered here for this special weekend. The teaching time stretched me to think about God's love for people of many cultures and whose expression of worship is different than my own. The solemnity and welcome of those making their final profession as an oblate of St. Benedict, signing their covenant on the altar, moved me beyond words. I was blessed. Yet all was not what it seemed. Picture if you will a glass beaker from your days in biology or chemistry class. You fill it with a liquid and perhaps add so

Last week I sat amongst a group of bright and talented women as we continued to make our way through Joan Chittiser's book: CALLED TO QUESTION, A Spiritual Memoir. Though Sister Joan is a Catholic, Benedictine, nun and we are for the most part Protestant, married/widowed, career/retired women, it's amazing how similar the spiritual touch-points of her life and ours. Two things from our discussion are still with me. The first is that though life continues to unfold before us, our life is really the sum of the choices we make in response to what we find on our life's path. Secondly, we can make those choices from our own well of information, or we can make those life-forming choices from the depths of God's love for us and His life in us. Simply put, we choose to be God, or to seek God. For those of us reared and educated in the 20th century, in a country that reflects back to us the virtues of fierce independence and the right of might... the humility necessary to da

"Grammie, I heard magic" was Lauren's response to the familiar chiming sound just as we entered the Magic Kingdom on Saturday. If Disney is even in any small way a part of your life, you know the sound. I don't know why it surprised me that Lauren was already well acquainted with it...maybe it was just the sincere conviction with which she said those words -- "I heard magic" -- never doubting for a moment that 'something' had happened, whether or not she could see it. We recognize the experience in our own lives, don't we, not doubting something has happened whether or not we see it. We call it grace. It happens invisibly in moments of our lives that feel like gifts. It happens in the sacraments of Baptism and The Lord's Supper. It happens when we ask God's forgiveness and something happens that we cannot see. Grace is ours when life, regardless of its circumstances is good -- is very, very good. It was this week, last year, that I l

From afar over the past couple of years, I've watched an acquaintance building a rickety bridge. In the name of compromise or peace-keeping she's made leadership choices hoping against hope that they'd maintain the public good, yet decisions she would never have made left to her own conscience, thoughtfulness and prayer. Each decision brought her farther out into deep water. During this season, her life has been an uneasy peace on the outside and chaos and turmoil inside. That is until recently when she decided (as I've seen people do many times before) that life is too short to do something you hate... and she walked away from the situation leaving the many people she worked with and for scratching their heads. Seeing her after the announcement, you knew the elephant had removed his foot from her chest. I tell her story compassionately because as I reflect on her 'withdrawl from the battle' it reminds me of similar leave-takings in my own life. Whether with f

I continue to work my way through my candidate year as a Benedictine Oblate of St. John's Abbey [Collegeville, MN]. While in the Rule of St. Benedict prayer is considered work the work I'm refering to is the more elusive work of discernment. One conclusion I've reached in my discernment process is that its a good thing at 56 years old to still be able to ask the parallel questions: "What do I want to do?" and "Who do I want to be?" when I grow up. That's preferable rather than slugging away for 20 or 30 or 40 years at a job or vocation one loathes (or even worse, the lukewarmness of what one will tolerate). This work of discernment asks us to look at our lives using criteria uncommon in the 21st century culture of America. Presently, I'm employing the lens of the Benedictine vow of stabilty. Should Benedict have meant by stability for his followers to dig a hole and stand in it... I would fail his criteria miserably. I now live more than 1

CHRIST’S JOURNEY and OUR OWN We walked the path from Bethany on the top of the Mount of Olives, down to the old city wall of Jerusalem. Along the way we stopped at the Church of Pater Noster – the place on the Mount of Olives where Jesus taught the disciples the “Lord’s Prayer.” Here on the walls of the shrine, the Lord’s Prayer is printed on ceramic tiles in 115 languages. Next we stopped at the Church of Dominus Flavit – where it is believed that Jesus stopped to weep on His way to the Garden to pray. The architecture of the church is tear shaped and offers a perfect view of the Temple Mount. The Garden of Gethsemane hosts a 2,500 year old olive tree that still send out shoots. As we entered the old city, we came to the Church of St. Anne, mother of Mary, the Mother of Jesus. The church has perfect acoustics. A highlight of the trip for me is as we sat and sang our songs of faith and echoed a song of some pilgrims from Poland. While the Via Delarosa is more well-known to our Ca

We stood in the Garden of the Nations and listened to a Hassidic Cantor remember the six million Jews who died in the Holocaust. He remembered them with the traditional mourning prayer, the Kaddish, which we had just said the day before together at the Western Wall for Glen Poston. As I read the opening remarks in the first exhibit of Yad Vashem, I could not help but draw similarities that would not be popular in the Israel of today. When I read about how the Nazi’s first began to segregate and then take away rights of the Jews in the late 1930’s and early 40’s I recalled the reduced options of those who live in Israel now behind fences and in segregated neighborhoods. I am not drawing any conclusion as to how the situation here might proceed. It’s just that when any people see other people or people groups as objects—often bad things happen. I will pray for the peace of Jerusalem and all Israel. We also visited the Museum of the Book... where the actual scroll fragments found at Qu

I attemptd to send this to you all earlier this week and noticed it did not come through for some. When I tried to re-send, no luck. Let's try it again. If all else fails I'll email it once I'm home. Sorry if you get MULTIPLE copies of this edition! Early this morning we visited Bethlehem. We left behind our Israeli guide and driver and were met at the security fence by an Arab Christian driver and guide for the morning. Bethlehem is one of the regions under the control of the Palestinian Authority. There is an uneasy peace between the two sacred towns of Bethlehen and Jerusalem since the Intifada of 2000. What to say about all of that? It's just difficult. Since the fighting, the Christian population has decreased from 70 percent to 30 percent. Life is difficult for all people; Arab Christians and Muslims alike in Bethlehem. Living behind the security fence inhibits the exchange of goods and services... prevents folks from working... it reminds everyone that pea

One thing there is little time for when you've traveled 6,000 miles and backwards two centuries, is reflection. Yesterday, after our morning trek into Bethlehem, we entered Jerusalem through the Zion Gate...visited Kind David's Tomb the holiest site in Judaism... climbed the steps to the Upper Room and continued a walking tour of the Jewish Quarter of the Old City. We saw several underground excavations of houses destroyed in the Roman conquest at the time of the destruction of the Temple in 70 A.D. And that was before lunch -- really. Our hotel sits just across a valley from the Old City facing south and a little east. From the floor to ceiling window we can see the Mount of Olives and the Muslim Quarter [which in reality is more like the 2/3rds] within the walls of the Old City. This morning I heard the loud speakers blare the Muslim call to prayer before the sun came up. Now as the sun cuts through the morning haze the surface beauty of this troubled city begins to take sh

I attemptd to send this to you all earlier this week... and it did not come through for some. Let's try it again. If all else fails... I'll email it once I'm home. Early this morning we visited Bethlehem. We left behind our Israeli guide and driver and were met at the security fence by an Arab Christian driver and guide for the morning. Bethlehem is one of the regions under the control of the Palestinian Authority. There is an uneasy peace between the two sacred towns of Bethlehen and Jerusalem since the Intifada of 2000. What to say about all of that? It's just difficult. Since the fighting, the Christian population has decreased from 70 percent to 30 percent. Life is difficult for all people; Arab Christians and Muslims alike in Bethlehem. Living behind the security fence inhibits the exchange of goods and services... prevents folks from working... it reminds everyone that peace is distant. There are no easy answers here. We [Americans] cannot imagine what

Today was a day of fun sightseeing and relaxation... did I mention shopping? We began the day at the Underwater Sea Conservancy which was just beautiful. The conservancy allows land lovers to descend 20 feet under the sea into the middle of a coral reef. Fish, anemone, and coral abound. After being underwater, we boarded Jeep-like Land Rovers for a trip up the Eliat mountains. This part of the desert gets less than .025 inches of precipitation each year. Fortunately for us, two months ago they had a deluge which they considered a "ten year" rain event which lasted several hours... and the desert began to bloom. Trees and flowers that had been conserving their precious water, seeds, blooms had come to life. WOW. We continued up the mountain for about an hour over rough terrain until we reached what was undeniably the top. From there we could see (with the help of our guide) the borders of Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Israel and Egypt. There were stunning mountain ranges

On Sunday we drove the length of the Negev Desert from the southern tip of the Dead Sea to the deep water port in the city of Eliat on the Red Sea. Along the way we stopped to take pictures of Lot's wife, pillar that perhaps once stood on the shores of the Dead Sea but after shifts in tectonic plates, now is half way up a mountain. About ten minutes before seeing the fertile port city in the distance looking much like an oasis, the air conditioning on the bus became 'intermitent'. While on a bus in the Negev you do not want intermitent air conditioning! We were happy to reach the Isrotel Royal Beach Hotel where we have been pampered beyond our wildest dreams. Standing on the balcony, we can see the nations of Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Egypt and of course Israel. The city of Eliat, Israel and the city of Acaba, Jordan share this northernmost tip of the Red Sea as a common deep water port. At least they do in times of peace. Just in case, their is an Israeli PT boat that c

I’m wondering tonight what amazes you? As you go through your day, do you ever feel really wowed, or really grateful? This week I’ve been amazed by people; some who’ve been dead and gone for thousands of years, and some who are traveling companions for this pilgrimage. This morning we visited Beth Sheam, the largest active excavation in Israel located about half way between the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea. A community of 40,000 from the 2nd century CE – the excavation includes the main street where the business of town occurred, a theatre, public baths, hippodrome, gymnasium and gold-smith shop. What amazed me most was the creativity of both the builders of the city and the dedication of those who are piecing the city back together. The main street, called “Cardo” (the word from which we get ‘cardiologist’) was so named because it was the heart of the town. Many of the public buildings have intricate mosaic floors or walls not because it was necessary, only because it was upli

We’ve spent the past few days traveling The Galilee. I grew up thinking that Galilee was a city or town like Nazareth or Jerusalem. It wasn’t until my first trip to Israel that I learned that The Galilee was a region in northern Israel. The people here further differentiate between The Upper Galilee (north of Magdala/ Capernaum) and The Lower Galilee, the area we are staying in and around Tiberius, Nazareth, Mount Tabor [Transfiguration] We visited the town of Nazareth where Mary the mother of Jesus was first approached by the angel Gabriel to learn she would be the mother of One to be called Emmanuel. It’s likely that Jesus spent the first 20 years of this life there. While in Magdala (Mary Magdalene’s hometown) we saw the boat that was excavated in 1986 and has been dated as a fishing boat of the 1st century. We sailed in a replica boat to the middle of the Sea where we heard scripture read, prayed the Lord ’s Prayer together and were led in singing “Amazing Grace” by Barbara Rum

You know it’s one thing to be 50+ living in a country that boasts being 200+ years old. But it’s quite another when you are 50+ and looking at the remains of a great harbor, summer palace and aqueduct all 2,000 years old. In fact, it makes you feel younger! Today we visited Herod the Greats’ summer palace in Caesarea on the shore of the Mediterranean. There we saw the ruins of an outdoor stone theater… think of a semi-circle of limestone seats 14 rows high and a stage with the sea as its backdrop. The remains of numerous pillars, capitals, sarcophagus, and a hippodrome… think Ben Hur. Down the road a bit we touched and took pictures of what’s left of the aqueduct which carried fresh water to this elaborate seaside resort. Amazing. We also visited Mount Carmel, where Elijah and his God outwitted the prophets of Baal. See I Kings 18-19. We travelled the Jezreel Valley, stopped at a Druze establishment for a falafel pita with fresh veggie garnish for lunch. At Tel Megiddo we saw t

Friends and Family, While the middle of the afternoon there, its 10 p.m. in Tiberius. We landed on time from our 12 hour flight from Atlanta Georgia. Friends Stuart and Anita and Israeli tour guide Jacob were here to welcome us. We drove in our motor coach 2 hours from Tel Aviv to Tiberius where they had held dinner for us. As I promised, the food in Israel is exquisite. We arrived at the hotel thinking we were more tired than hungry. After our first course... we were more hungry than tired. No one skipped the dessert buffet. Our hotel is on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. We can see the lights of the Golan Heights across the lake. In the morning, God willing, we will watch the sun come up over the water. There are not words to describe the feelings. Driving from Tel Aviv, we past the exit sign to Nazareth, Mount Carmel, Meggido (the place of the battle recorded in Revelations). The quiet question inside is "can this be?" "Are we really here?" We are

Today begins a journey that just a few years ago, I beleived to be "once in a lifetime." In 2006 I traveled to Israel with a group from Columbia Seminary. Four faculty members and 28 pastors made up that group. That trip was life changing, ministry changing, like taking spiritual vitamins. This afternoon I am privileged to begin that same pilgrimage again this time as tour leader with 8 folks from Moorings Presbyterian Church, two friends from Park Ridge,IL, Sam #1 from Ohio, two soon to be friends from Texas and Sam #2 my husband. Anita and Stuart[Park Ridge] are already on the ground in Tel Aviv and have reported beautiful weather and the celebration of the Israeli Memorial Day -- including having a ringside seat to a practice 'fly-over' of the Israel equivalent of the Blue Angels. We'll meet up with them at the airport in Tel Aviv when we arrive, be joined by our Israeli tour guide and driver and be off to Tiberias on the shore of the Sea of Galil