Summer Kitchen by Donald Hall In June’s high light she stood at the sink With a glass of wine, And listened for the bobolink, And crushed garlic in late sunshine. I watched her cooking, from my chair. She pressed her lips Together, reached for kitchenware, And tasted sauce from her fingertips. “It’s ready now. Come on,” […]
Go well.Stay well… Every Tuesday during Lent, about ten of us have been meeting to discuss the book Cry, The Beloved Country by Alan Paton.The book takes place in South Africa during the height of the apartheid era, and involves an oldman’s search for his lost son.
Here is the opening passage of The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri, as translated by Robert Durling: In the middle of the journey of our life, I came to myself in dark wood, for the straight way was lost. Ah, how hard a thing it is to say what that wood was, so savage […]
Open, or closed? That is the question of the door. When we shut the door, we ask the person on the other side “who are you?” If we leave the door open, we tell the person on the other side: “come in.”
An open door says “I trust you.”
A closed door says “I’m not sure about you.”
Doors An open door says, “Come in.” A shut door says, “Who are you?” Shadows and ghosts go through shut doors. If a door is shut and you want it shut, why open it? If a door is open and you want it open, why shut it? Doors forget but only doors know what it […]
When we return to the water source…
We are returning to life.
This truth vibrates at our deepest core.
We had a lovely service this morning(Feb. 19), and I am feeling good. The church received some good press last week from the Keene Sentinel, and I was delighted to see some new faces in the pews…
Isabel will spend the next 2 1/2 years as a Peace Corps volunteer in Indonesia. She has a healthy sense of her own dignity, and she is a good judge of character – so I am confident in her ability to manage this challenge… And yet, I am still her father… and she my daughter.
And so, last Monday, we spent the last day we would spend together for 2 1/2 years.
We climbed Mount Monadnock…
The facilitator of the session asked us to raise our hands if any of us personally knew people who had died of an opioid drug overdose.
Everyone present raised a hand…
Among the books I’d just piled onto the bookshelf in my office was a slim volume with Tutu’s name inscribed in the spine. Fetching it from the shelf, I held in my hands a book entitled “Crying In the Wilderness: The Struggle for Justice in South Africa.”
When I opened the book, something fell from the pages onto the floor of my office.
I picked it up and examined it.
