Pilgrims' Home

From the Sons of Korah God is our refuge and strength,    a very present help in trouble.  Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,    though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;  though its waters roar and foam,    though the mountains tremble with its tumult.            Selah   There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,    the holy habitation of the Highest.  God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved;    God will help it when the morning dawns. The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter;    he utters his voice, the earth melts.  The  Lord  of hosts is with us;    the God of Jacob is our refuge.            Selah   Come, behold the works of the  Lord ;    see what desolations he has brought on the earth.  He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;    he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear;    he burns the shields with fire.  ‘Be still, and know that I am God!    I

One year ago today I was sitting in Taize, alone. Taize worships at least three times each day. If you are over 35, the activities between worship are few. The schedule was slow and between worship services I would go for long walks alone, often walking in circles because I was afraid of getting lost. One day I overcame my fear and walked to Cluny, an old city centered around a convent. Funny things happened on the way to Cluny, including needing to use the bathroom but having no bathroom in site. I also calculated that it was a four-mile walk but 6.5 miles later, I arrived in the town. What was most fascinating was the verbal activity in my brain among the many steps I trod. I was alone but still “talking” or what I more often call “spinning.” I am sure no one can relate to this. The walking to Cluny and back gave too much time for spinning in my head. Sometimes interesting thoughts and questions would come to mind, but more often than not people and relationships, conflicts

The opening words of Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy: When I had journeyed half of our life’s way, I found myself within a shadowed forest, for I had lost the path that does not stray. Ah, it is hard to speak of what it was, that savage forest, dense and difficult, which even in recall renews my fear: so bitter—death is hardly more severe! But to retell the good discovered there, I’ll also tell the other things I saw. I cannot clearly say how I had entered the wood; I was so full of sleep just at the point where I abandoned the true path. I imagine Dante wrote these opening words at the end of planning and writing the Divine C omedie . I write on the front side of what I hope is a comedic pilgrimage. Pain, loneliness, and suffering will surely find its home in me during the Camino, but might joy, laughter, and love also manifest in me? How will life become alive through memories, thoughts, and new connections along the way? This phrase of Da