Skeptical Faith

Google Image During my time as a priest in rural Bolivia, where fundamentalist Protestants were making inroads into a traditionally Catholic population, I often thought about how complicated Catholicism is, making it difficult to grow a native church. To produce a priest, for example, requires four years of college and four years of theology, once a young man graduates from high school. In the parish where I worked, few people were able to complete elementary school. What’s more, priests are required to be celibate, a major obstacle among the indigenous population where a male wasn’t considered a man until he married and had a family.   Catholic theology has been evolving over 2,000 years, making it complex and baggage-ridden. By contrast, the sects represented by the non-Catholic missionaries there were simple. They produced ministers within weeks. Their theology was elementary and uncomplicated. Adapting Without Compromising It brought home to me the necessity, and difficult

Google Image An acquaintance of mine has always been a caregiver, in her profession and in her life. Recently, however, she has drastically reduced her contact with family and friends, telling one of them that she has focused too much attention on others and it’s time to focus on herself. Who can argue with that or judge her? Since it’s unlike her, however, you could presume she’s going through a temporary crisis or a bout of depression. Whatever, patience and understanding are called for. But her situation calls to mind the importance of perseverance in the search for God because it’s easy to become weary, to get burned out, to get the feeling that others are indifferent and not doing their part in making for a better world. Love Your Enemies? Fact is, the search for God is hard and we need grit to be the best people possible. But we may balk at doing what we need to do, like following  Jesus’ words in the Gospel of Luke that says, “…Love your enemies, and do good, and lend, exp

Google Image I’m a faithful reader of obituaries in the daily newspaper. If you weren’t sure that I’m a member of the “geezer” generation, my reading of obits confirms it. Obits provide stories about ordinary people- surprisingly, of various ages - rich and poor (although the cost of obits has become a barrier for many people), whites and people of color, professionals, execs, laborers, office workers, members of the clergy. There’s nothing like death to expose our equality as human beings! Some obits are funny, such as one published a year or so ago that gave the deceased’s name followed by only two words: “He died.” Some are a bit boring and follow a predictable pattern, but most have something interesting to say. Recently, I was struck by how many list the deceased person’s qualities, reasons that person was admired by family and friends. “She spent a lifetime caring for her family, friends and others.” His Smile and Compassionate Spirit “(He) touched the lives of many of us

Google Image I have the habit of singing to myself, humming or whistling as I go about my daily routine. Sometimes, a song gets “stuck” in my brain and is hard to get out. T his appears to be fairly common. I’ve learned from the Internet that there’s even a name for it. Such a song or tune is called an “earworm.” My earworms are musical pieces from a wide variety of musical types, including classical, music from the 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s and post-millennium, Gregorian chant and other churchy music and Hispanic music, especially from Colombia and Mexico. I know some people think singing, humming and whistling is weird, but it beats having negative or violent thoughts and it contributes to my happiness. And yes, mindless whistling, especially, can be irritating but I try not to do it around others, except for my wife, Amparo. And bless her, she tolerates it. Stayed in my Brain Recently, for some unknown reason, a song popular from my childhood popped into, and stayed, in my brain. I n