Skeptical Faith

Google Image I recall as a youth being saddened by the song, Auld Lang Syne. I’ve read that the title is taken from a phrase in a 1788 poem by the famous Scotsman, Robert Burns. It’s typically sung on New Year’s Eve around the world.” Among the title’s translations is “Times Gone By.”   The only lyrics I knew were barely understandable: Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind? Should old acquaintance be forgot, and old lang syne? B ut combined with its melancholy melody, they were enough to put me in a minor funk. More than anything, I think, it reminded me of the death of my grandmother, Julia Carney, whom I loved dearly, and that one day, I, too, will die.   “Ok,” you might think, “this is getting morbid.” Not really. This blog is actually about happiness, and “happy” and “death” can coexist. But the specter of death, I believe, hangs over the heads of many people like an anvil on a string, and is a major obstacle to happiness. And, contrary to popular belief, it

Google Image Sometimes these blogs come together easily. They flow from my brain onto the screen. Other times, I write and re-write, and every word is a problem. That’s the case with this one. The reason is that I wanted to write about Christmas, but for many years I’ve been ambivalent about this important feast/holiday. The / illustrates the point. I like traditional Christmas music, especially those with a religious meaning, and I like short-term decorations, the thrill for children, the family gatherings and the good wishes. But I can’t shake the idea that a major, meaningful religious feast day has been shanghaied by commercialism and sentimentality. Stuff We Don't Need I grumble about the too-early lights and decorations at the malls and in neighborhoods, about the insipid Christmas music that will have to be endured for more than a month, about the incessant sales that urge us to buy stuff we and the recipients of our gifts don't need. If I were the pope, I would

Google Image During Mass at a parish in Denver that my wife, Amparo, and I attend when visiting family members, children bring gifts to a Nativity display at the foot of the altar. Dressed in their Christmas best, they are – to coin a phrase – “cute as a bug’s ear.” But watching them last year, I remember wondering how many would grow up continuing to practice the faith of their parents. I thought about this when I read about a Harvard University study showing that “p articipating in spiritual practices during childhood and adolescence may be a protective factor for a range of health and well-being outcomes in early adulthood.” Makes sense to me, but I know a lot of people disagree. Many, in fact, say that including young children in the religious practices of their parents is a form of brainwashing. They believe children should be raised without any religious beliefs, allowing them to reach intellectual maturity completely on their own. Mind Control? I really don’t think it’s

Google Image I can’t remember a day in my life when I haven’t prayed, and that includes times when my faith was weak-to-none and when I was facing personal crises. But seldom has prayer been easy. And though I believe I’ve made progress in my prayer life, it’s still not always easy. I do most of my praying, morning and evening, in an easy chair near the front window of our house, but not facing the window. That would invite distractions. I try to relax, and beforehand focus on placing myself in God’s presence. (Of course, you can pray any time, any place, by just having a talk with God.) When I pray, I try to minimize distractions, but they seem as inevitable as sneezing when an irritant gets in your nose. What’s that noise outside? What time is it? What do I want to do today? What are my children doing? And then there’s that itch on my forehead or that bit of lint on my left sleeve that need urgent attention. Any Effect? And those are only the minor distractions. The major ones

Google Image Scientists, according to a recent article on the National Public Radio web site, have discovered that what formerly appeared to be empty space at the edges of the known universe emit unexplained light. This apparently means that we’re far from really knowing where those “edges” are. “In fact,” says the article, “the amount of light coming from mysterious sources was about equal to all the light coming in from the known galaxies….” One of these scientists says that “for 400 years, astronomers have been studying visible light and the sky in a serious way and yet somehow apparently missed half the light in the universe." “So what?” some may ask. “How does that affect my life?” Observant and Thoughtful Ok, it doesn’t affect us like the price of gasoline or the weather or the risks of getting COVD-19, but it affect us, nonetheless, if we’re observant and thoughtful. In my view, the universe was already inconceivable in its enormity, making you feel like the size of