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Holy Week
The days have unspooled quickly in this early part of springtime. My interior life has been not in turmoil but in flux, an almost palpable ebb and flow, and through all my misgivings and doubts and ragings and grim, silent musings, I have felt like some sort of antenna, unmoored but still grounded, with invisible signals popping and whizzing around me during my hours. A good friend, who roves across much of the same rocky spiritual landscape I do, recently mentioned in passing how he just might be holding onto a hope that he will one day believe again. That sentiment sang in me like a tuning fork when a…
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Last Sunday After Pentecost
A week from today marks the beginning of Advent. The church calendar once provided the cadence for the march of everyday life, granting to Christians the sense of timing of season, of the low ebb of the Lenten times to the high tide of Easter. Just as farmers and cattlemen feel in their very bones the motion of the earth around the sun, and of this solar system’s wide circle around the universe, watching the changing natures scenes and the predictable habits of animals, so too the average Western man once felt the revolving year in his bones as he observed the Church’s feasts and solemn days. But now nature…