Howard Thurman was my traveling companion on the train to work this morning, and he greeted me with these words: It is small wonder that all religions that are ethically sensitive place a great emphasis upon the corrosive effects of pride upon the human spirit. . . . The most obvious basis for pride...
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While the tale of how we suffer, and how we are delighted, and how we may triumph is never new, it must always be shared. There isn’t any other tale to tell; its the only light we’ve got in this darkness. (James Baldwin, “Sonny’s Blues” quoted in The Art of Time in Fiction: As...
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A good twenty years ago, I was sitting in my car at a traffic signal on Memorial Drive in Cambridge, waiting for the light to change so I could cross the bridge over the rail yard and back to our home in Charlestown. I looked up to see a billboard that read, Come see...
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My day started with jolts from both my morning coffee and, then, these words from Howard Thurman: The will to understand other people is a most important part of the personal equipment of those who would share in the unfolding idea of human fellowship. It is not enough merely to be sincere, to be...
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I was a history major in college because of the professor who taught my Western Civilization course my first semester at Baylor. I’ve told this story before. I walked into Wallace Daniel’s classroom expecting to be told, once again, who won what war and what it meant for the rest of us and, instead,...
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I have been reading a lot about stories lately: how we tell them, how we hear them, how we live them. Telling a story is more than recounting events. In his book, The Art of Time in Memoir: Then, Again, Sven Birkets writes: There is in fact no faster way to smother the core...
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The past few days I have been captured by James Carroll’s book, Christ Actually: Reimagining Faith in the Modern Age, in which Carroll articulates what faith in Christ looks like in the light of the Holocaust. He begins with a question Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote to a friend: “What keeps gnawing at me is this...
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I spent part of my day working from a window seat at The Marketplace, a wonderful coffee shop-café-grocery store that sits on the edge of the Guilford Town Green, which is renowned as the largest town green in New England (almost eight acres) and was designed by Frederick Law Olmstead, who also designed Central...
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As Christmastide comes to a close, I come offering a collection of thoughts and words that have found their way to me over the past couple of weeks, mostly through my reading. John begins his gospel saying, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” This year, his words have called me to try...
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I didn’t write yesterday because I didn’t sleep well the night before. On purpose. As one who lives with sleep apnea, from time to time I have to take a sleep test, which means trying to sleep without my CPAP, affectionately known at our house as my Snuffleupagus Machine because it requires of me...
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