A Sinner's Semester at America's Holiest University, by Kevin Roose. A young journalism student at Brown University decides to spend a semester at Liberty University incognito and then write about his experience. He figures this will be as much of a cultural shock as any semester abroad.
I found the book to be fascinating. Roose is quite a remarkable young man…observant, open to learn, insightful, wise for his years, honest about his experience and respectful of his friends. So much so that the reader is hooked, wondering what the author's personal transformation might be in the end.…
-- Post From My iPhone
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Keeping on keeping on…
I've been participating in a 40 day email series called "Practicing Spirituality with the Quakers". Much of what I've read is not new to me, but nonetheless, there have been helpful reminders of some of my deepest core values. A recent excerpt jumped out at me, touching a longstanding area of personal vulnerability:
"Not one of us will live long enough to see a fraction of the difference we make, but it is essential that we pursue our ideals anyway. Many of the first Quakers never saw freedom of religion come to England. Most of the original suffragists never got to vote. The murdered civil rights workers did not get to see racial tensions ease. Few idealists live long enough to see their dreams made real, and yet their influence lives after them, and their dreams do, sometimes, come true for others."
— Kate Maloy in A Stone Bridge North
Years ago our home seemed to be a haven for folks in need. We poured our energy, our love and our resources—our very selves—into the lives of several individuals and families. We have no sparkling success stories to tell, we can't point to lives transformed in any obvious way. Reading such stories has always stirred up questions for me about what we did or didn't do or might have done better. And yet I've always been comforted, in that inner place of knowing, that we did the best we could with what we knew at the time, that our motives were loving and sincere, and that those events and relationships came to us for a reason. Looking back, I see holy moments.
Living faithful, living true in our relationships has always been important to us. We may not see that we've made any difference in our lifetime, but these words by Karen Maloy encourage me to keep on keeping on!
-- Post From My iPhone
"Not one of us will live long enough to see a fraction of the difference we make, but it is essential that we pursue our ideals anyway. Many of the first Quakers never saw freedom of religion come to England. Most of the original suffragists never got to vote. The murdered civil rights workers did not get to see racial tensions ease. Few idealists live long enough to see their dreams made real, and yet their influence lives after them, and their dreams do, sometimes, come true for others."
— Kate Maloy in A Stone Bridge North
Years ago our home seemed to be a haven for folks in need. We poured our energy, our love and our resources—our very selves—into the lives of several individuals and families. We have no sparkling success stories to tell, we can't point to lives transformed in any obvious way. Reading such stories has always stirred up questions for me about what we did or didn't do or might have done better. And yet I've always been comforted, in that inner place of knowing, that we did the best we could with what we knew at the time, that our motives were loving and sincere, and that those events and relationships came to us for a reason. Looking back, I see holy moments.
Living faithful, living true in our relationships has always been important to us. We may not see that we've made any difference in our lifetime, but these words by Karen Maloy encourage me to keep on keeping on!
-- Post From My iPhone
Friday, July 03, 2009
A Book Review, of sorts
We Have a Religion: The 1920s Pueblo Indian Dance Controversy and American Religious Freedom, by Tisa Wenger
In reading the cited book, one of the things that was obvious to me was that everyone sees these events through their own filter of experience, including participants documented in the story as well as those of us who read it. I was acutely aware of how my own experience of authoritative religion was shaping my response at times, how I felt in my gut the familiar angst, the sickening knot of being patronized by what I've called 'benevolent patriarchy' (and sometimes not so benevolent, though I think the patriarchs involved intended it to be so for the most part!), the pain of knowing that one's experience, beliefs and/or personhood is not valued by those in positions of power and influence.
Arrogance! Over and over, I was struck by the arrogance of religious and government leaders presuming to know what was and is best for Native Americans without giving them voice in the decision-making process. The assumption that our religious beliefs have evolved and are in all ways superior to indigenous and other non-Christian spiritual wisdom and practice is troublesome. It was interesting to read the Native American's development of religious and legal arguments that continue into the present. Reading of these ongoing cases, it strikes me again as ironic and arrogant to observe the U.S.'s presumed right to speak with authority to civil conflicts around the globe, when our own record is so dismal.
It was fascinating to read of the development of the term "religion" within the tribes, how religious arguments were made on behalf of traditional leaders and progressives alike; and that the western concept of individual choice as applied to religious freedom has been a two-edged sword. And to read about the controversy posed by the presence of non-Indian spiritual seekers in the present . . . I hadn't thought about some of these things.
I have no first hand experience with the realities of the Native American experience. It would be interesting to hear a response and discussion involving persons who have lived and worked in proximity to native peoples, medical people who have been in the clinics, those who've worked in orphanages, those who have provided social services, who have seen the ugly side of societal breakdown--drug and alcohol abuse, domestic violence, sexual abuse. I suppose, just as in the historical record, the opinions of cause, effect and solution would range across the spectrum.
I finish the book with an appreciation for the complexity of the issues. In spite of the challenges, we must continue to find ways to live together in this nation, respectful of those things held to be sacred, yet recognizing the great diversity among us in that regard. Three years ago, Larry and I had the marvelous privilege of spending eight days and seven nights on a river rafting trek through the Grand Canyon. It was not only an exploration of physical beauty and grandeur, but an awesome and reverential experience as well. Did we desecrate sacred Native American space even though we were respectful and abided by the "leave no trace" dictum? What is an equitable solution to such dilemmas? And how is sacred space violated by Native Americans when economics are involved? (I'm thinking now of the glass walkway suspended over the canyon and open to the public.)
This book, with its extensive documentation, careful exploration, and insightful interpretation, adds a valuable perspective to the discussion, but I, for one, don't have answers.
In reading the cited book, one of the things that was obvious to me was that everyone sees these events through their own filter of experience, including participants documented in the story as well as those of us who read it. I was acutely aware of how my own experience of authoritative religion was shaping my response at times, how I felt in my gut the familiar angst, the sickening knot of being patronized by what I've called 'benevolent patriarchy' (and sometimes not so benevolent, though I think the patriarchs involved intended it to be so for the most part!), the pain of knowing that one's experience, beliefs and/or personhood is not valued by those in positions of power and influence.
Arrogance! Over and over, I was struck by the arrogance of religious and government leaders presuming to know what was and is best for Native Americans without giving them voice in the decision-making process. The assumption that our religious beliefs have evolved and are in all ways superior to indigenous and other non-Christian spiritual wisdom and practice is troublesome. It was interesting to read the Native American's development of religious and legal arguments that continue into the present. Reading of these ongoing cases, it strikes me again as ironic and arrogant to observe the U.S.'s presumed right to speak with authority to civil conflicts around the globe, when our own record is so dismal.
It was fascinating to read of the development of the term "religion" within the tribes, how religious arguments were made on behalf of traditional leaders and progressives alike; and that the western concept of individual choice as applied to religious freedom has been a two-edged sword. And to read about the controversy posed by the presence of non-Indian spiritual seekers in the present . . . I hadn't thought about some of these things.
I have no first hand experience with the realities of the Native American experience. It would be interesting to hear a response and discussion involving persons who have lived and worked in proximity to native peoples, medical people who have been in the clinics, those who've worked in orphanages, those who have provided social services, who have seen the ugly side of societal breakdown--drug and alcohol abuse, domestic violence, sexual abuse. I suppose, just as in the historical record, the opinions of cause, effect and solution would range across the spectrum.
I finish the book with an appreciation for the complexity of the issues. In spite of the challenges, we must continue to find ways to live together in this nation, respectful of those things held to be sacred, yet recognizing the great diversity among us in that regard. Three years ago, Larry and I had the marvelous privilege of spending eight days and seven nights on a river rafting trek through the Grand Canyon. It was not only an exploration of physical beauty and grandeur, but an awesome and reverential experience as well. Did we desecrate sacred Native American space even though we were respectful and abided by the "leave no trace" dictum? What is an equitable solution to such dilemmas? And how is sacred space violated by Native Americans when economics are involved? (I'm thinking now of the glass walkway suspended over the canyon and open to the public.)
This book, with its extensive documentation, careful exploration, and insightful interpretation, adds a valuable perspective to the discussion, but I, for one, don't have answers.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Home alone
Well, not quite! Larry is gone (he headed to the mountains for the weekend and an anniversary party for friends). I, meanwhile, went to Lancaster to pick up the three older siblings of baby Evelyn, and we stopped at the hospital on the way home.
The children are staying with me tonight and tomorrow. We had supper at Burger King. It's been awhile since I tried to manage three pre-schoolers on my own! At bedtime, they wanted to be together, so they are three in a bed. After some giggling they actually settled down and now they are sleeping. Sweet dreams little ones.
The children are staying with me tonight and tomorrow. We had supper at Burger King. It's been awhile since I tried to manage three pre-schoolers on my own! At bedtime, they wanted to be together, so they are three in a bed. After some giggling they actually settled down and now they are sleeping. Sweet dreams little ones.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
If you build it . . .
Instead of turning cropland into a ball field, we're turning a ball field into cropland . . . a vineyard, to be specific.
Last fall, the fences came down. Mid-March the ground was ripped both ways with a subsoiler, leaving huge clumps of sod which needed to be broken up with a disk and then plowed under. In April, there was more disking and harrowing in preparation for planting.
Then the vines arrived from California. 3150 of them.
This is one bunch of the bare roots, grafted plants.
And then planting began.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Lily's new puppy
Lucky is a Maltese-Yorkie cross.
Logan was more interested in Grandpa's tractor!
-- Post From My iPhone
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Signs of Spring
One of my favorite spring wild flowers ...
And I love traditional daffodils...
And these white daffodils given us by a dear friend...
Today I reflect on this wondrous beauty while also mindful of those who carry a burden of grief and great loss.
-- Post From My iPhone
And I love traditional daffodils...
And these white daffodils given us by a dear friend...
Today I reflect on this wondrous beauty while also mindful of those who carry a burden of grief and great loss.
-- Post From My iPhone
Sunday, March 22, 2009
A walking meditation
It is a lovely day in early spring with the promise of warmer days to come. I went walking, the same two mile stretch I've walked dozens of times over the years.
In 1994 when my oldest was home from college for the summer, we got up at 6 a.m. each morning and walked together. We continued our walks until her wedding in 1996.
By then second daughter had joined us, and walking wasn't enough. She wanted to run, training for field hockey. We walked and jogged those early summer mornings until her wedding day in 2000.
Now if I walk I am usually alone. But I like the silence. Sometimes I'm lost in thought, sometimes I see my surroundings. I always notice my favorite tree, standing regally, alone against the sky.
One year for Christmas my daughter gave me a framed collage of this tree in the four seasons.
Today I paused at the entrance of my neighbor's driveway. Gretchen, 63, lived many years with Parkinsons disease. She, too, used to walk in the early mornings and we often passed one another in the darkness just before dawn. Later, when she could no longer manage those walks, I would see her in her flower garden, watering, tending each bed with loving care.
Today I stood before a dead winter wreath hanging on the fence. It seems to speak of the recent experience within those gates, for Gretchen died the end of February.
Who will tend your gardens now?
The hint of new life is all around. Snow drops and crocuses are blooming, daffodils are budding and tulips are growing. The pussy willow bush is covered in luxurious fur. Robins and bluebirds are here in abundance, and the goldfinch is getting it's bright yellow coat.
Death and life, always present.
In 1994 when my oldest was home from college for the summer, we got up at 6 a.m. each morning and walked together. We continued our walks until her wedding in 1996.
By then second daughter had joined us, and walking wasn't enough. She wanted to run, training for field hockey. We walked and jogged those early summer mornings until her wedding day in 2000.
Now if I walk I am usually alone. But I like the silence. Sometimes I'm lost in thought, sometimes I see my surroundings. I always notice my favorite tree, standing regally, alone against the sky.
One year for Christmas my daughter gave me a framed collage of this tree in the four seasons.
Today I paused at the entrance of my neighbor's driveway. Gretchen, 63, lived many years with Parkinsons disease. She, too, used to walk in the early mornings and we often passed one another in the darkness just before dawn. Later, when she could no longer manage those walks, I would see her in her flower garden, watering, tending each bed with loving care.
Today I stood before a dead winter wreath hanging on the fence. It seems to speak of the recent experience within those gates, for Gretchen died the end of February.
Who will tend your gardens now?
The hint of new life is all around. Snow drops and crocuses are blooming, daffodils are budding and tulips are growing. The pussy willow bush is covered in luxurious fur. Robins and bluebirds are here in abundance, and the goldfinch is getting it's bright yellow coat.
Death and life, always present.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Something new
I downloaded a program to blog and post pictures from my phone. This is my first try. If it works I'll have the option of blogging while on the road.
I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not!
Last week when the weather brought hopes of spring, Larry got out the barrel "train". It is a favorite activity for the grandkids. And we think Larry enjoys it as much as they do!
The engineer . . .
Lily
Jade
Colby
Logan
I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not!
Last week when the weather brought hopes of spring, Larry got out the barrel "train". It is a favorite activity for the grandkids. And we think Larry enjoys it as much as they do!
The engineer . . .
Lily
Jade
Colby
Logan
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