A Deserted Place

In one of my favorite shows, “Parks and Recreation,” there is a scene where one of the characters, Jerry, is tasked with stuffing hundreds of envelopes with flyers as part of his volunteer work for a local city council campaign.

Shake Off the Dust

Our kitchen floor is at least 35 years old, and it’s the ugliest color to come out of the ‘80s. But it’s a good, durable floor, and my husband, bless his heart, guards it like it was a finely finished hardwood imported from Brazil.

A Prophet and His Native Place

“A prophet is not without honor except in his native place.” It could be the slogan of high school reunions everywhere. I speak from experience — I didn’t go to my high school reunion, but I do live in the same area in which I grew up. Ghosts from the past lurk in every grocery aisle and gas station. Former classmates fill my prescriptions at the pharmacy. I am always sure to see an old teacher or two at the Fourth of July parade.

The Touch of Christ

For a long time, I didn’t understand why the virtual Masses of the pandemic were so wearisome to me. Theoretically, shouldn’t it be a tired mother’s dream, fulfilling her Sunday obligation from the couch, not having to worry how much noise the kids are making?

Right now, you and I are only worried about one of only two things: wind or water. Bear with me. This week we hear the account of the terrified disciples waking Jesus in a sea storm. He chastises them for their lack of faith, and then, “rebuking the wind, he said to the sea, ‘Quiet, be still!’” He rebukes the wind and stills the water. In the Bible wind and water represent the two most fundamental poles of our experience of creation. Wind means heaven, spirit, that which gives identity, unity, order, light. Water stands for earth, variation, potential, that which can be drawn into identity, darkness, chaos.

Living Parables

Whenever someone begins a sentence with, “This parable means…” I roll my eyes. (Sometimes I do this inwardly, to be polite. But I still do it.)

We have a tendency to treat the parables like our mom’s favorite casserole recipe. Ah yes, we think as we sit down to dinner, smiling as we inhale the aroma of childhood. Good ol’ mushy-chicken-rice-thing. I recognize you. I know exactly what you are. I don’t even have to think about you.

In the Family Way

Look here: there is no one more family-oriented than me. I drive a minivan. I wear mom jeans. I wipe unidentified gunk off of kids’ faces without a second thought.

I’m all about family, but I’m not always a fan of what “family” has come to mean in the modern lexicon. Family values. Family-friendly. Family-oriented. It’s usually a synonym for “non-offensive.” Soft. Moderate. Nice.

A friend in high school once asked me why I wore a Crucifix around my neck. She was a Christian and very devout, so I was surprised at her confusion. “To remember Jesus’ sacrifice,” I said.

Her upper lip curled in disgust. “The cross is a sign of Jesus’ sacrifice,” she said. “He’s not on the cross anymore. It’s really weird that you wear his dead body.”