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Waiting for a Breath

Tom died nine years ago after a massive stroke.  His life had not been easy and so those of us who knew him looked upon his death as a release

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A Christmas Story

The children were tumbling all over each other in their excitement. Tonight was Christmas Eve and soon they would be going to the big cathedral for the Christmas service.  It

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The Rabbi Who Walks in the Woods

This is the season of anticipation.  Children wait for Santa. On these long, dark nights, we look forward to the sun’s slow turn north. In my tradition, we await a

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What’s in a Word?

  I was under the gun to get this column finished. The editor had me in her sights so I decided to bite the bullet and give it my best

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A Hallowed Eve

Mimi was my surrogate grandmother all the years I was growing up.  She was born in St. Raphael, France, near Nice. Born of a second-generation Italian father and a French

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Why is God/The Way of Peace

Usually this is not the question.  Rather, it’s why isn’t God? Why isn’t God doing something about the refugees?  Why does God allow wars and famine and disease?   Why does

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What is God/Songlines

 Centuries ago, a wise prophet and a dreamer observed that without a vision, the people will perish. My daughter moved to Australia in 2001.  Over the course of several visits

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When is God?

Charles and Winnie Wilmore had moved to a house in East New Orleans in August, 2005, just three weeks before Hurricane Katrina. They had been able to locate a home

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Something Fishy

My last blog, “Who is God?” was the second in a series of five.  I will continue with the third one but I’m taking a break this week to muse

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Who is God?

A conversation last week with a good friend got me thinking about language, particularly, language about God.  Already, in that first sentence, lies the heart of my dilemma. It’s about

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Where is God?

They had been wandering in the wilderness for weeks, footsore, frustrated and fed up with their leaders.  Where were they going?  When would they get there?   Why couldn’t they have

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Stalking the Baltimore Oriole

A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song.   -Maya Angelou In the highways, in the hedges, I’ll be somewhere (searching) for my

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