My wife and I recently moved to a Chicago neighborhood that is farther
from public transit than we're used to. She’s looking into clinical pastoral education
placements, most requiring travel across town at odd hours. My parents
live in a small town 80 miles from us, my aging grandparents in another
town 30 miles farther.
When I was a college student, I sought a faith I could affirm. I had
been raised in a conservative Christian home. I discovered spirituality
during the psychedelic '60s, found a spiritual practice through
Transcendental Meditation, and returned to church.
I was speaking at a Methodist clergy gathering when a pastor told me
that at first the hotel had not been excited about hosting the group,
since its members weren’t going to run up any kind of bar bill. But then
the hotel manager noted that they had more than made that up in how
much was spent on dessert. The Methodists were welcome there anytime.
I have a recurring bad dream. It is similar to the one where you realize
it’s time for the final exam and you haven’t been to class all
semester. I used to have that dream. Now my recurring anxiety dream is
of a wedding. Somehow I forgot to write the homily. I don’t have the
Flipping through the new issue of The American Prospect, I saw a blurb about an article from last month's issue that I missed amid the end-of-year craziness: Ann Friedman's commentary
on the need for different left-leaning political interest groups to