It was an other-worldly experience, getting through Security at a client’s corporate campus yesterday.
Monthly Archives: April 2013
Have you ever met a real, live prophet? I did, just a little over a decade ago.
A friend once remarked, ‘When you go to Mass every day, you see things you don’t see every day.’
A spring storm scattered hundreds of immature seed pods across my driveway today–an untidy intrusion, courtesy of a neighbor’s tree down the street.
It was as mad as I can ever remember getting at God.
Sometimes I wonder what the heck’s the matter with me.
Yesterday was ‘food day’ at golf league – one of several times during the season that we finish off our matches with a simple meal and some fellowship. It turned into something of a salvific event for me – a chance to take the edge off an otherwise horrific round.
By the time I first encountered Pierre Teilhard de Chardin in the late 1970s, he was relatively famous—at least in spirituality circles.
He’s been something of a hero to me since I’ve been old enough to think – and wonder – for myself. Long before I’d ever heard of quantum physics or the Theory of Everything, Teilhard’s words had a way of opening my mind to cosmic possibilities. ‘Here’s a guy,’ I thought, ‘who can see deep into things.’
Most years, the church celebrates the solemnity of the Annunciation – the feast commemorating Mary’s ‘yes!’ – on March 25. This year, because that date fell during Holy Week – the celebration was moved to today, April 8.
And isn’t it perfect that it falls on a Monday.
It was the oddest thing yesterday afternoon, listening as my eldest son cheered Carlos Beltran’s RBI single in the fifth versus the Giants. We were watching the televised game ‘together’ on the phone* – me, in suburban St. Louis…Chris, half-a-continent away in Berkeley, just across the bay from San Francisco.
Suddenly, Chris interrupted an unrelated thought to yelp in delight at the run-scoring hit. Meanwhile, I’m sitting in front of my flat-screen, mystified…because in the picture I’m seeing at that moment, the hurler hadn’t even begun his wind-up.