now, my ideas about summer reading were driven largely by guilt. My bookshelf
is packed to the gills with books that I "should" read: books people have given me and I need
to return, or books that have been sitting there so long, I have given myself
ultimatums--either read this or get rid of it.
The Little Way of
Saint Therese of Lisieux: Into the Arms of Love, by John Nelson.
Therese--who died of tuberculosis at age 24 and was canonized less than 30
years later--was an unassuming woman who found great joy in her littleness.
This volume promises to be refreshing spiritual nourishment.
Gary Dorrien's spring Century
article, which argued for economic as well as political democracy, whetted
my appetite for the book that part of it was adapted from: Economy, Difference, Empire: Social Ethics for Social Justice.
Last spring I helped the church
I was in the process of leaving prepare for its 100th anniversary celebration.
One of my tasks was to track down contact information for the people on the
invitation list. It wasn't exactly what I went to seminary to do, but I'm a
librarian's daughter and otherwise generally disposed to exemplary
Where I live at 10,200 feet, the
trees have not yet budded. May is still early, early spring in Leadville,
Colorado, but all around me is a sudden burst of gardening. For months, people
have been filling their homes with starter plants; now they're calling around
to see who has space for more in the few small greenhouses.
In 1831-32 two
young Frenchmen, Alexis de Tocqueville and Gustave de Beaumont, traveled
through the United States, ostensibly to study the prison system on behalf of
the French government. But the prisons bored and often appalled them--Quaker-inspired
prisons in Philadelphia being the exception--so they spent very little time in