Arising Unscathed from the Grave December is full of holidays. The first is Hanukkah, which this year starts on the 18th. It commemorates the success of the Maccabean revolt and the miracle of the oil that burned for eight days. On the Winter Solstice, there’s Yule, which welcomes the return of the sun. On December 26th, Kwanzaa begins. Started in 1966 to honor the heritage of African Americans with symbols of unity, cooperation, creativity, and faith, the holiday includes seven days of lighting candles. Throughout the month, Christians mark the Sundays of Advent with candlelight to mark the coming of Christmas, the day when they celebrate the birth of their…
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Grief, Gratitude, and Joy
Our Suffering World All over the world, people are suffering. That’s nothing new. We humans have been hurting one another since before we painted images of war on the walls of caves; and we hunt our furred and feathered cousins for food, or clothing, or just for sport; and now, in breathtaking numbers, we cut down the trees whose leaves turn our pollution into something breathable, and heat up our planet beyond repair. It seems there can be no life without pain. So suffering has always been with us. Lately, though, it has reached the point of explosion. With the pandemic, we became isolated. Businesses folded, employees lost jobs, schools…
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The Place of Prayer in Happiness
The Power of Prayer Why do we pray? As a chaplain, I’ve observed that people pray for many reasons. Some seem to think prayer will protect them, or get them right with God, or solve their problems. Others pray as if out of habit. Then there are those for whom prayer seems to be sacred, a moment of true connection with something bigger, larger, grander than our own essence. Still others appear to experience grace and affection when they pray. Most of us pray for all these reasons at one time or another. For most of my life, I didn’t pray. I never thought of it, really, not even when…
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Trusting in the Process
Losing to Win Sometimes you’ve got to lose before you win. At least, that seems to be Sam Hinkie’s belief. Between 2013 and 2016, he was the manager of the 76ers, a basketball team from Philadelphia. During that time, he came up with the phrase “trust the process” to encourage patience in those who doubted his strategy. In an article about Hinkie, Jason Wolf quoted him as saying you have to “start with an end in mind.” [1] That’s what he was doing with the 76ers. During their yearly draft, the National Basketball Association rewards losing teams with first choice from among the incoming college recruits. To exploit that tradition,…
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Claiming a Voice: Prodigal Son’s Mother
Voiceless and Invisible Throughout the world, women lack a voice. Even in the United States, where women have made inroads into commerce and leadership, factions are doing their best to shackle them and contain their power. Some men seem unable to abide a strong, independent, successful woman. They think they need to tear her down. They abuse and threaten her and try to control her body. This can traumatize and overwhelm a woman, but it is possible to point out oppression. One can respond to jibes. When a woman is not seen or heard, however, she becomes invisible. She is rendered powerless. Many women in the Bible were unseen and…
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Joy that Saves
The Saving Nature of Joy Joy can save the world. If we were all joyful, there’d be no hatred, violence, incarceration, collusion, greed, or addiction. We’d all be peaceful, kind, and compassionate. Think about it. When you’ve felt on top of the world, could you have hurt another person? I don’t think so. Most people, when they’re happy or joyful, feel generous, understanding, supportive, and forgiving. Certainly, our moods can change. If we feel threatened, we can instantly become angry or fearful. We could lash out. In the moment of joy, however, we love everyone. That may be because joy helps us feel connected to one another and to the…
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Yom Kippur, Repenting, and Atonement
Being Good The other day, I visited with a patient who has spent his life being good. With great force of will, he has been humble of heart and mind, respectful to all he meets, kind, and soft-hearted. Occasionally, he lashed out in anger, but the guilt he immediately felt was so enormous, he would hunch his shoulders and hide himself away. Yet no matter how hard he tried to do things right and thus make people notice and praise him, life knocked him down over and over again. He ended up swept away, sick, homeless, and in despair. Though anger seethed somewhere inside him, he could barely noticed it,…
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The Power of Play in Recovery
Learning to Play My mother, though kind, generous, and loving, never learned to play childhood games. Born an only child to two earnest and serious parents who believed they should treat her like a little adult, the fun my mother enjoyed was mature and staid. Thus, I tried to be a little adult, as well. To please my mother, I learned at an early age to play bridge and enjoy symphonies. Therefore, I am grateful for my father, for although he sometimes embarrassed me with his silly antics and corny jokes, at least he taught me not to take myself too seriously. He taught me how to play. Not that…
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Joy in the Midst of Sorrow that Arises Out of Love
Clap your hands, all you peoples; shout to God with loud songs of joy. Psalm 47:1 (NRSV) Joy and the Weight of the World Today, I don’t feel joyful. It seems the weight of the world is smothering me. Not only does the news distress me, but so does my reading material. This time, it’s Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson, a book about his career as a defense attorney for disenfranchised and economically-disadvantaged death row prisoners. He tells the stories of young men whose trials were a sham, with invented evidence and juries purposely selected to be unfriendly toward them. Throughout our country, a fearful and angry white population has…
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My Journey toward Playfulness
Losing My Playfulness As a preschooler, I drove my mother wild with my irrepressible energy and curiosity about life. I was into everything, and I never stopped. Life was a delightful surprise, and I was going to taste, touch, see, learn about all of it. My mother tells me I was a happy kid, and I do remember joy. Exuberant, loud joy. Then somewhere along the way that changed. Maybe it was the losses, like my parents’ divorce and my grandmother’s death. Or maybe I started feeling uncomfortable when I went to school and the kids teased me for being short. And there were the other dysfunctions often found in…
