The Celtic Monk

With the Fourth of July right around the corner, my thoughts turn to this national holiday marked by hot dogs, cook outs, fireworks and lasagna. Lasagne? Well yes. Several times durng my childhood my family made their way to East St. Louis, Illinois, where we would spend the holiday weekend with friends, the Sperry's. Often, their daughter Denise (who was my age) and I would walk into town or make our way to the river's edge where we'd sit talking while throwing stones into the water. All the while back at the house chairs and tables would be hauled outside for the crowd who'd come for supper. There were bottles of pop in an avalanche of ice which filled a galvanized tub in the backyard. Snacks of chips-n-dip and watermelon abounded as we awaited the slow-cooked lasagne for which Mrs. Sperry(Willie)was famous. It seemed that every year more and more folks found their way to that backyard and the lasagne! After much laughter and too much food everyone chipped in to ge

I found the following quote this week and though I've already posted it to my Facebook page to share, it continues to haunt me (in a good way). "In this world, the emerging church needs cybermonks to act as spiritual guides. They blog their stories with image, narrative, and experience. They design websites to provide spiritual resources online. This is not a modern 'come to us because we have a great worship service...' it's a postmodern 'here are our spiritual resources, feel free to try-before-you-buy.' The cybermonk is a new missionary calling.” So much of what I've done as THE CELTIC MONK, PEACE RIVER SPIRITUALITY CENTER, and now PRESBYDICTINES and BENEDICTERIANS is just that; a calling to live out the much I've been given outside the confines of brick and mortar--most noticably absent, a steeple. In my blogs I open my spiritual experience warts and all for others to ponder or to use as a mirror. PRSC has been home to a weekly meditation grou

Since the 25th of April, I've flown 7,200 miles and spent 20 nights sleeping somewhere other than my own bed. I had great conversations with old friends, saw my grand-daughter dance in her first ballet recital, read Scripture in my niece's wedding, attended a 50th wedding anniversary party of an aunt and uncle, saw another niece's firstborn, and visited with many relatives who I haven't seen for 20 or more years. While the date for each of these events was out of my control, I did choose to attend each and every one. I knew as I made my airline reservations last January that the schedule would be grueling. I under-estimated the necessary 'recovery time' in between each opportunity. Oh my, I'm not 25 anymore! Now I know this never happens to you, but I've been home for almost 48 hours and I'm just now beginning to catch up to myself, to catch a glimpse of the me I know best; the self I live with 24/7; the self that dearly wanted to go to all those pla