Sacred Sunday Conversations

Our Sacred Sunday conversations are often about how the scriptures of many cultures impact our lives and those of all the earth. It has taken over twenty years to have him speak about what he believes, but it has been worth the wait.

He began our romantic relationship with an announcement that he was not going to tell me he loves me; he was going to show me his feelings instead. He said that he wasn't sure what people meant when they said they love someone.

He also said that he wasn't sure what the role of men was since the advent of Women's Lib seemed to have thrown out all the old rules of Chivalry. We've been busy making it up as we've gone along, but we still come out as as the traditional couple. His greatest joy in me was in supporting me as a wife and mother; my greatest joy in him was in showing him gratitude for his efforts.

We are now at the point where I no longer have anyone to mother. My new passion is in seeking a common language for defining The Divine in all of creation. I am also seeking to understand where the common boundaries are in both Judeo-Christian and non-Judeo-Christian families and functioning communities. Never did I expect the fireworks that my questions about boundaries would create.

We seem to live in a world that is greatly post-religion. Where does this leave us as members of the animal kingdom, while continuing to be aware that we have a spark of something special that non-human animals don't possess? It seems that even without what we define as religion, humans have always been aware that nurturing this special spark brings out our best, in ourselves and in our bonds to each other.

I seems that the rebellions of the sixties and seventies broke the traditional boundaries and fears between races and religions. We still seem to be looking for a way to define new boundaries for human behavior. Many seem to want to run back to their familiar areas and wrap themselves in their flags or their sacred scriptures without ever looking farther for areas of common community agreement. In a world of global communication, we simply can't ever go back.

Many have stopped looking for masters who have a special power to speak to The Divine, and are aware that each of us has the capacity to "hear" The Divine in ourselves and in others, if we simply take the time to "hear" it. I call this the Post-Pentecostal era, an era when we should each look for and share the laws of responsible, compassionate community written on the hearts of ourselves and others.

Early on, he said that he believed that what made humans more special than other animals was the capacity to say, "no" to their instincts. Over the twenty-something years I've known him, I've watched him enjoy telling himself "no." It's not exactly "no," but "all in its own time, as is life enhancing for himself and others." He enjoys the anticipation of careful planning, the process of the performance of each task, and the afterglow of sharing of stories about each others' accomplishments and enjoyments.

It seems that the problem for many of us is allowing ourselves too many choices. We go for quantity of experiences, rather than for the quality. He may not have as much as he could or do as much as many, but he certainly enjoys the process of performing any action. It seems that, for him, it's not so much about saying "no," but in deciding to honor all those things to which he says "yes."

We are now in the years where all of life can be anticipation and afterglow, not only about our own accomplishments, but in celebrating those of others. It seems a shame that our society doesn't slow down long enough to decide what they will do, how they will do it, and what they will do after. They seem to simply bounce from one excitement to another without any boundaries or direction.

What ever happened to the wisdom of the ages helping to mold the paths of the new lives, not as gurus, but as trusted elders of working communities? When my people are ready to listen, we will be happy to speak. Meanwhile, we live lives of savoring each moment and sharing in each others' wisdom gleaned from the many people and projects we've encountered in our lives.

Leadership of the Loud

A light bulb went off in my head this morning.

For many years I've suspected that some people may behave irrationally, but they don't know it's irrational because it's the way all the people in their immediate families behaved. What our own families do is what we generally accept as the norm for all families. Our families are generally drawn to others of their own beliefs, so this reinforces our belief that all people do whatever our family (and our immediate community) does.

I had written a tragic play that I thought I may have better named Folie a Deux (definition: the same mistaken belief shared by two people) for a contest. As a point of silly pleasure, I thought of how many people in groups get carried away with the group's beliefs; I jokingly labeled this Folie en Masse. Lo and behold, there is an online entry from a psychiatrist defining the term that I thought I had just coined as a joke. He was describing what led the followers of Jim Jones to drink the Kool-Aid.

Several years ago, Time Magazine published an article about what traits lead us to follow people. Disturbingly, this article revealed that we tend to follow those with the biggest voices. Unfortunately, I believe it is true that our animal brains process the biggest "bark" as leadership ability. We instinctively become frozen when we are verbally assaulted. Some flee, some follow, and the aggressive fight. What's to become of those who pull back and think over the situation?

I was reared in a dog-eat-dog family. We learned to speak loud and long. Nobody had ever really heard of bullying, except as a way to weed out the wimps who didn't deserve to live in the animal kingdom of survival of the fittest (meaning the biggest and baddest in our families). One never knew when the posturing and snarling was going to lead to deadly engagement.

My mate speaks in a voice so low one has to have an ear up against his mouth to hear him. (It is helpful in conversations to be able to read lips.) He actually has a lot of value stuff to say, if you only take the time to hear him. Early in our relationship, he said to me, "Just because you speak louder than I do doesn't make you right." Since then, I have tended to give extra attention and credence to those who always speak in measured tones and cadences.

For several years, we worked to balance our passions, mine very vocal, and his more circumspect. Perhaps you could say that I am the booming bass and he is more the sweet soprano. When he almost died, I decided to take all stress of decision-making from him. I seem to have gone from a Folie en Masse of my family to Folie a Deux with him. Things got scary in our lives without his balancing wisdom.

My booming base, not balanced by his sweet soprano has taken more than one along on my perceived path to peace. My passion usually burns bright, but doesn't last long enough to get us there. I have to take frequent breaks to get my breath again.We have all been so blessed that he continues to pick up where I leave off.

Perhaps it is again time for each of us to take full responsibility for our own actions and decisions; never, however, losing sight of the need to consider the impact of our actions on the other. I may become quieter, and he may actually learn to speak loud and long. It could also happen that our fellow community members in our country will begin to listen to those who speak softly and carry big ideas.

Neither is likely, but they could happen.

Arrogance or Art?

At last I have my best friend, from when I was fourteen, back;
Our paths have taken different turns on different life tracks.
While she studied, I was birthing; while she birthed, I was away;
Now she's semi-retired and has lots of time to play.

We've begun taking a pottery class with several other women;
This is another way that I feel like I'm close to heaven.
I always wanted the opportunity to express myself in clay,
Ever since my little sister and I were in our mud pie days.

There are many similarities in clay work and in baking,
But the products won't be eaten, all my work foresaken.
I'd like to do Raku sculptures of united  families;
The Shona art of Zimbabwe has similarities.

It seems that clay work may be perfect for one like me
What comes out of the kiln, you can never foresee.
Since I wing everything, and often face failures,
Knowing there's no guaranteed results has an allure.

Maybe instead of medication, we need art all along;
This seems to be another way to sing a joyful song.
So much of one's soul goes into one's art;
Isn't clay where, we're told, humankind got it's start?

We are told that God breathed onto humble clay
And imparted His soul into who we are today.
I've grown and cooked food that nourished families;
I now want to create from clay what my soul sees.

Some sing, some dance, some cook, some speak;
Some simply smile and make our knees weak.
Some write with such soulful, heartfelt words
That The Sacred cannot help but be heard.


Is it arrogant to feel art brings us closer to The Divine?
Or is art another way for our Divine Spirits to shine?
I like to believe that in sharing our artistic talents
We're sharing the Divinity that in many has been spent.

I grieve for those so are afraid of their own emotions

That they run from all beauty sung, danced, or spoken.

Emotion is the only path we have to another's soul;

Without that bonding, we can never feel whole.

Spiritual Sunshine

Even gratitude can become painful if not often expressed,
But so many don't want to seem vulnerable to another's best.
It takes nothing out of me to say how wonderful you are;
Sincere acts of gratitude can carry peace on earth far.

We should thank every citizen who pays their fair taxes;
This is the center support of a compassionate axis.
We should thank every daughter and son helping an infirm parent;
This saves on the Medicare dollars that are often spent.

We should thank every parent supporting their own child,
And every caring teacher that goes the extra mile.
The nurses and aides who serve because they care;
We should all thank them for The Spirit that they share.

When anyone smiles at us, how awesome would it be
If we said, "Thank you for sharing your Divine Spirit with me"?
Perhaps, in this way, The Spirit that we have known
Will permeate our lives, our workplaces, and homes.


There are many who see compliments as currying favor,
And others who come to believe that they are Our Saviors.
It is sad when others refuse to be open to gratitude,
And those who thank only The Unseen for all that's good.


Nothing seems a greater gift than shared childlike wonder
In every gift of creation, the birdsong and the thunder.
Many enjoy exploiting the vulnerability of others,
But sharing vulnerability is what makes us all lovers.

It takes courage to continue to open your heart;
Simply smiling into another's eyes we, peace, impart.
When we tell someone they have a beautiful Spirit,
Not only their ears, but their souls, will also hear it.

It is true that many wounded will run away in terror;
They will think that what you're seeing is an error.
Instead of promoting in our children pride or humility
Let's simply teach them to share all gifts in community.

The joyful energy we share will eventually spread,
Encircling even many that we were taught to dread.
Little by little these rays of Spiritual Sunshine
Will spread in all humanity the Spirit of The Divine.

Heroes to the Voiceless and Vulnerable

There can be no justice without bravery. Any passion that one is, as a sober adult, willing to die for represents the greatest power in the world. I salute those who believe in our American values enough to put their lives on the line for me and mine. This is part of the beauty of an all volunteer armed forces. These brave people feel a calling to serve in the capacity of warriors and peace keepers for our country to remain safe and spread the good of compassionate democracy. When they die for us, their great spirits are left to sustain us.

As important as dying for a cause, is living for that cause. Many give their lives over to serving our freedom. They begin being heroes the day they put on the uniforms representing us and our values. They don't do it for the money or the prestige; they do it because they love us and our country.

The same can be said for our teachers, our police officers, our firefighters, and most of our medical professionals. Isn't it time that we stop worshiping those who do everything for money, prestige and power, and stop exempting them from the laws that govern the rest of us? They should be more highly accountable, as they have no excuse for their illegal, immoral, unethical behaviors. They want attention, and we allow them  to break all of our laws while they entertain us with their antics.

There are enough actual children in the world to entertain us with endless childish antics. Let's pay closer attention to them and less to the adult children of the world. Where are the people volunteering to do respite care for the children of single parents and parents with a partner who must travel to support the family? Who is teaching them how to set up childcare cooperatives? How many of us are willing to purchase a year of conception control for someone not in a position to care for a child? Perhaps we can help stop the perceived need to abort unplanned and unwanted children.

So many live in a child's dream world rather than facing the realities of proper parenting. People with children are vulnerable. If alone, they can run from a threat, but they need protection if also holding on to a couple of children. We are all vulnerable at more than one point in life. We all need heroes sometimes. Too many children are used as the parent's shields and access to resources instead of the other way around.

Our competitive society takes advantage of the most vulnerable, congratulating ourselves on our victories. Those who compete at all costs to others are seen as the normal ones. It takes courage to stand up for and with those who don't quite fit the generally accepted definitions of "normal." If the people who we hold up as role models for our society are the "normal" ones, I certainly am glad that my children have never seemed "normal."

Daily compassionate, responsible action is what makes a person a hero. If they are also willing to stand firm in the face of death; that makes them martyrs dying for a cause. There is a difference.

We may come close to worshiping the martyrs, knowing that we will never be asked to do what they have done. Thankfully, most of us are not asked to emulate their actions. Everyday heroes, however, serve as examples to all of us in this life. Each of us is called on to be heroic in some way, but very few of us are called to be martyrs. We have role models and mentors for human heroism. Each of us can find someone to help us in achieving our heroic missions.

Sometimes dying seems easier than getting up every day and being the best hero you can be to a voiceless or vulnerable person. Write a letter to an old person or disabled veteran; smile at a person who looks lonesome; listen to the tales of a senior citizen who simply wants to feel his/her life counted for something; tutor someone in reading or other life skills; teach parents how to set up babysitting cooperatives; support conception control efforts for the reduction of the most vulnerable, the unwanted babies of the world; advocate to make the rape of women and children as acts of war an international war crime.

Each of us, every day, has some way we can "Just do it!"

That for Which I Pray on Veterans Day

My prayer this Veterans Day is that we will one day create no veterans of war.
Becoming one holy and apostolic church is what Christianity is created for.
When we see that generation after generation creates scenarios for vengeance,
We will stop looking for ways to destroy all those whose views offend us.

Moses was told not to turn and fight, but to lead his people away
To an area where they could live in peace, not matter what others had to say.
Perhaps we are too married to the concept of our permanent earthly place.
If it hadn't been for travel and resettlement, there would be no human race.

Until we, like the Native Americans, accept that all creation is lent, not given,
We will never have the promised peace on this earth as it is in heaven.
Until the day returns where whole communities will travel together,
We will continue to our weapons and words of war be tethered.

I accept that peace on earth will not occur in my given lifetime.
Peace in my own family is a mountain I've not been able to climb.
Until the time comes when the vulnerable aren't molested,
I'll  reach out to our warriors as Operation Homefront has suggested.

I will attempt to share sparks of The Spirit of Peace within my own soul;
Perhaps in sharing my spiritual journey I can help another to feel whole.
Every eye-to-eye encounter we have with another human being
Is an opportunity to share with another what our own Holy Spirit is seeing.

Looks of Love

When we watch silently as children are being bullied,
We are watching the bullies as they suck out another's soul.
Some proud parents continue to see their different children as perfection,
And others join the ranks of those who replace innocence with shame.

How can a child grow in goodness when reflected in the eyes of disgust?
It is through the loving eyes of others that we first learn to love ourselves.
I was taught to look away from those with obvious physical differences
Rather than to approach them and look them in their eyes.

Many feel uncomfortable, so they resort to bullying
Rather than attempting to find some common human ground.
Do the disrespected learn they're inhuman or invisible,
And do they finally stop hoping for a human's loving looks?

When we learn to celebrate differences, rather than to fear them,
We may find the paths to lasting places and people of peace.
Every encounter we have with another human
Gives us one more chance to nurture another's soul.

Somewhere deep inside even the most wretched adult
Still lives the innocent child hungering for a smile.
A look of sincere acknowledgement of the beauty in another,
And a moment spent listening, may rejuvenate their hope.

But dare we open the doors to their child-like tenderness
If we can't remain to help nourish their new-found spirits?
Do we really look away because we don't want to see,
Or are we afraid that their need is too much for us to fill?

Where to begin in a world so filled with fear and anger?
And how to protect ourselves from our energies being sucked dry?
It seems that only by bonding with people of like passion
Do we maintain the flame that burns deep within our human souls.