Last night, I saw this photo. My heart broke again. The day was already strange enough, love and death juxtaposed and mixed. And then the shooting started. Our acknowledgement of the inevitable future of our collective and individual demise was met by the catastrophic present of another school transformed into an abattoir. We did not […]
I discovered, yesterday, that a friend from my college years passed away unexpectedly. I learned through that stuttering flutter that is Facebook updates. A few cryptic posts of loss and praise. And then a chorus of strangers clamber for more information, joining in some confused and networked online howl. This is our digital sorrow. For more […]
While I can remember that my father died on the same day Hiroshima suffered the first atomic weapon, the year it happened, however, tends to blur. It always feels like it was only a few months ago and that I’ve only now recently come out of the hazy shock of losing one’s parent. The anniversary […]
Feist, Metals, “Graveyard.” I would sing this song at Bushwick Abbey.
This sermon was offered at St. Lydia’s in Brooklyn, New York on the first Sunday of Lent, February 17, 2013. Worry. Luke 12.13-34 I was an anxious child. I worried about being left alone. I worried about doing the right thing, whatever that was. I worried that other kids would pick on me. I worried. And as I […]
Today we remember that we are dust – just like last year and the year before and for as far back as we can remember caring about this day, Ash Wednesday. But we must be told we are dust. We tell each other we are dust. It’s not enough to tell ourselves that we are […]
Last night, I spent two hours standing in Brooklyn’s Atlantic Avenue-Pacific Street subway station reminding complete strangers of their mortality. Each Ash Wednesday, a small band of St. Lydia’s community offers ashes to the people passing by. Last year, it was in Union Square (when I first saw them, but did not know who they […]