In my youth, I never used the word “spirituality.” It would have seemed a poor substitute for “religion,” the familiar word that gave meaning to my life.
I probably would not have understood anyone saying “I’m not religious, I’m spiritual.” But nowadays more and more people have become fond of speaking this way. The expression has become something of a mantra.
When you have an appointment with a doctor, do you bring an advocate with you?
Too many people would have to say “no” to this question.
For lack of an advocate many of us will leave the visit without remembering clearly what the doctor told us. Especially in situations in which we feel anxious about what may be wrong with us, it can be hard to concentrate on the medical response.
James Carroll’s new book, Practicing Catholic, is a brilliant and far-reaching study that holds great importance for Catholics, and, I believe, for others concerned about religion and its role (or lack of same) in their lives.
This book’s overarching theme is set forth by the author in his introduction. He describes it as “the positive transformation of religious thought that has defined much of Christianity, including Catholicism, during my life.”
“Journalism is valuable work, wonderful work, dedicated in a profound way to the public interest.” – Anthony Lewis
Jane Marie Thibault likes to tell this real-life story. Recently, she shared it with a group of professionals who serve older people or do research on aging. She has allowed me to repeat the story.
She told us about a woman who was a patient, years ago, at Detroit’s Mercy Hospital, suffering from a painful life-threatening cancer. During her stay there, she showed herself “really nasty,” especially to the nurses who served her. As a result, no one on the hospital staff wanted to come near her unless they had to.
At the Harvard Epworth Church, during a memorial service for member Geneva Malenfant, the former pastor, Ed Mark, got off the best lines. He recalled one Sunday when, as a candidate for pastor, he preached.
After the service that day, he stood at the door greeting departing parishioners. Geneva came by, shook his hand, and said to him: “That was the worst sermon I have ever heard.”
Ed's second line also drew laughs: “That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
At a gathering after an actors’ reading of the Waste Land and other poems of T.S. Eliot, I chatted with Dame Eileen Atkins, a star of both stage and screen.
She spoke of staying in touch with Eliot’s widow, now quite old. When I told her of enjoying her 2002 Broadway performance in The Retreat from Moscow with John Lithgow and Ben Chaplin, she said that she had stayed in contact with John.