Wanderings

The Failure of Independence in the Sacramental Movement; A Journey

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Getting There… I consider it a blessing that every morning, I can walk downstairs (into the far below) to check my email, update my websites, and commune with the Blessed Creator through prayer or the celebration of the most Holy Eucharist. I have a dedicated chapel in the rectory immediately next to my office; the view from my office chair is the tabernacle in which our blessed Savior is reserved for those mornings I have only a few minutes to collect myself, my thoughts, and my spiritual center. For me, there is no greater joy than the mystery that is …

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Optimism as a Way of Life

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Relentless Optimism The original article was published August, 2016 in Convergent Streams – this is the heavily edited version for personal publication. Take a moment to sit back, sip on whatever beverage is beside you, and reflect on the major changes in your life – specifically how you reacted to those events. The events themselves are important, but for this moment I want you to focus on your reaction to the event. You see, most of us will react in extremes. We either knee-jerk react to what we hear without bothering to stop and think, or we do not react …

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Shake the Dust: A Renewed Understanding

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This month is the one year anniversary of being released from one organization to find God in another. That isn’t to say God didn’t exist in the former. Many of the parishioners I met, and perhaps even one or two priests, were filled with a Great Spirit – one that enabled them to be happy and free. They, too, have moved on to bigger and brighter tomorrows. The following is my own writing and does not reflect the views or opinions of any other person, group, or entity. Some was written in 2014 – another time of great change where …

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Photo by Nolan Kent on Unsplash

I Still Cry at the Eucharist: Descending Into the Sacred

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“The thorn in my side deepenswith every breathand has become a knife; deftly wielded by an invisible hand,it prods me on to continue my journey;it is my lover and my most hated friend.My mind is full of awe and wonder for things I can never understand.My soul cannot separate from mysteries better left to those who understand such matters whileI wander in anticipation of my beloved I am a fool returning to every celebration.Through the invisible pain, I celebrate;the pain deepens and I am satisfied,again my soul is filledwith awe and wonder for things I can never hope to understand.”~Fr. …

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Photo by KEEM IBARRA on Unsplash

…And the Greatest is Love

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The following is my own reflection – it is not endorsed by any institution and is presented as fodder for critical thought. I am no stranger to stretching the boundaries of sound theological teaching. In fact, I rather relish the idea of expanding my own thoughts well beyond their limits. It is, after all, how we grow and learn. Sometimes I fall flat on my face, get up off the ground, brush myself off, and start again. Other times I soar through the sky with the birds where no one else dares fly. Many wanderings come from someplace, some territory …

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Creator and Created; Fine Silvery Threads Dance…

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Creator and Created, Fine silvery threads dance confidentlyOn open waters, drawing upthe life that floats along rapidcurrents. Behind the mirror, existence shines backfrom ages past and teams of creationyet unseen wait for their moment. Through dry mists, glowing embers explodecasting their presence across unwatchedempty highways – waiting. And there, in stillness, the presencechants a longing for companionship inan ever-silent crowd. Bless me, Creatorfor hearing the deafeningly silent callsspilling across both time and space,happenstance and accomplishment;all calling out to you. Through the great emptinessI shall move my soul seeking a paththrough the turbulent and fragmented shardsupon which the… Fine silvery threads …

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Senses, Be Stilled; Good Night

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Upon the blue stillness lies the immensity of all seen and unseen, all wished and non-wished, all glorified and all condemned. Somewhere in the distance, a wind chime softens the silence, calling upon a new soliloquy of transcendence. The sheet torn in the temple has settled on dirt floors – created and creating still; pondering its future and its own mortality. Crushed under the weight of a thousand triumphant proclamations sits the lonesome cooing which expresses only gratitude and love. Fire settles on the mountain, all are beckoned to the wonders pierced in both eye and soul. Not shall they …

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