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Enhanced interrogation

Enhanced interrogation is yet another euphemism that belies it’s real purpose and effect. War and especially modern warfare as practised in the United States and Western Europe is full of these poppycock descriptions for degrading human life. Let’s call a spade a spade and say that in our country it became okay to torture people whom we viewed as a threat to our national existence. The apologists for enhanced interrogation were policy makers at the highest levels of our government, including the President of the United States. When the images of this torture began to flood the media our then president described the situation as a few bad apples at the bottom. It’s now become apparent from recently released documents that the bad apples were at the top. The bad apples have now become hot potatoes because no one wants to cut to the quick and prosecute those who advocated and authorized the torture. On one side of the aisle allegations are raised that we threaten to further weaken the country and our ability to conduct intelligence operations which in effect are coveting our neighbor’s goods.  Intelligence is yet another euphemism for spying and we spy along with the rest of the world because we are afraid of the other guys or gals.

I don’t want to tear the country apart with a witch hunt, but as a former member of the U.S. Navy Hospital Corps and a person who at one time fell under the Geneva Conventions, I’d like to see U.S. soldiers, sailors and marines be afforded a measure of humanitarian protection in war zones.  It’s more than ironic that most of the defenders of these practices never served our country. Once again its the chickenhawks who are squawking the loudest.  How about a little enhanced common sense for a change? Why not a return to the Golden Rule? The phony Christians are often invoking our Judeo- Christian roots, then why not start acting like Judeo-Christians and loving our enemy and treating others as we’d like to be treated.

Turn the bad apples over to the International Criminal Court and let them deal with them and exonerate American and Judeo-Christian principles and protect soldiers, sailors and marines everywhere. That would be really supporting the troops.

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Without words

My heart has been without words lately. I’ve not felt up to writing about anything and I think there’s a good reason for all of that. Silence is more and more apart of my days and night even though I live in a world that will never be completely silent. The more silent I am the more I can appreciate the voices of others.  Friday was May Day, a special day of memory. In 1982, when we were early in our relationship as a couple my wife made me a May basket and gave it to me. I remember how deeply moved I was by her gesture. It was apparent to me then that this lady really loved me and it came at a time when I didn’t really love myself. I’ve reflected lately about what a pivotal moment that was in my relationship with not only Diane, but with God and life in general. Metanoias come about in life not from bolts of lightning that would scare us,  but more from changes in degrees of intensity of the light in our lives. The May basket in 1982 was one of those changes of intensity when I realized that not only did Diane love me but that I was loveable and that I needed to love myself too.

One of the scribes, when he came forward and heard them disputing and saw how well he had answered them, asked him, “Which is the first of all the commandments?” Jesus replied, “The first is this: ‘Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”–Mark 12:28-31

One of the paradoxes of life is that we can’t really love others until we love ourselves. I missed that for much of my life up until then. I miss it from time to time even now. When my relationships are suffering its often because I’m judging myself too harshly and when I’m tough on myself, I’m tough on those around me.  Diane taught me the lesson of my life on the first day of May in 1982. We celebrated that event Friday night with dinner at the lovely Glen Iris Inn overlooking the Middle Falls at nearby Letchworth State Park.

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Well pleased

Tonight our daughter called to inform us that she has been awarded an Excellence in Student Teaching from the State University at Fredonia where she will graduate in nineteen days. Dara has excelled in her four years at college. Beginning with three semesters at Nazareth College and then the last five semesters at State University of New York College at Fredonia. Dara is our daughter in whom we are well pleased. Many young people dream of 4.0 semesters and some even attain those marks.  My best undergraduate semester was a 3.2 and I was quite proud of that. Dara’s overall GPA is 3.97 and a 4.0 in her major. Add to that she’s a charming and attractive young lady who is very sensitive and highly regarded by her peers and her teachers.  In other words she’s not a square. She’s athletic and continues to run eight to ten miles a week.  There is a quote from the Gospel of Matthew 3:17, “You are my beloved son in whom I am well pleased.” Tonight let me paraphrase that for our daughter and say, you are our beloved daughter in whom we are well pleased.  Deo Gratias!

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Beside the still waters


I spent the past weekend at Stella Maris Retreat Center which is located on Skaneateles Lake in Skaneateles, New York. I was attending the annual Kateri Tekakwitha Secular Franciscan Order regional meeting. I’ve been at the meeting three years now and each time it has been refreshing and relaxing to gather with other members fo the Third Order Secular. The Secular Franciscan Order has been around since the beginning of Franciscan charism which is celebrating its 800th anniversary this year.

Unlike other weekends I’ve spent at Stella Maris though this particular weekend was very restful. My accommodations at the Passover House were quite lovely. I was not prepared for such lovely surroundings. I loved taking walks on the grounds and especially along the lake shore which borders the property. Sunday morning was especially peaceful and mystical as wisps of early morning fog floated just above the lake and the surface of the water was like glass. The lake was so clear that it was possible to see the bottom.

All three days were lovely and sunny, though Sunday began with a bit of overcast. I took my time driving home along Route 20 and through the communities of Seneca Falls, Waterloo, Geneva and Candandaigua. Everywhere I looked there was ample evidence of spring with blossoms bursting forth. All creation is shouting for joy.

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Spring Break

I’ve been on the road this week. I work in public education and one of the frills is these nice breaks we get every spring. I’ve spent mine traveling all over hell’s half acre. I left home early Monday morning headed for Clemson, SC. I got there in fourteen hours, spent the night at a Sleep Inn there. I drove eight-hundred miles only to awake to rain and gray skies. There’s a bit of humor in that for a guy who lives in one of the grayer spots on earth. I did make lemonade with the lemons that day and spent part of the morning and early afternoon trying to visit the campus of Clemson University and the South Carolina Botanical Gardens. They are beautiful and though I had to dodge quite a bit of rain I did get to see some of them.

I  left Clemson Tuesday afternoon and drove toward Charleston and the South Carolina low country. Among other things I wanted to visit Mepkin Abbey at Moncks Corner, SC. I spent the overnight in Summerville, SC at another Sleep Inn and had lunch with some old friends who live in Summerville. It was a treat to meet our friend Michelle and her husband Mac. After lunch at Panera Bread in North Charleston, I made the trip to Mepkin. Having never been to the Abbey I didn’t exactly know what to expect, but I was left without words to describe the beauty and the peace of the surroundings there.  I left Mepkin after spending most of the afternoon there and headed north toward Virginia but exactly where I wasn’t sure. A call to my wife convinced me that I should stop along the way in North Carolina and so I spent the night at a Microtel Inn at Wilson, NC.  Yesterday morning I rose early had breakfast and headed north on Interstate 95. I hadn’t driven but ten miles when I saw a sign for Cape Hatteras National Seashore. I had heard of Hatteras, Nags Head and Kitty Hawk but never been there. I’m glad I made the trip. It’s beautiful there, but yesterday it was extremely windy. Maybe it alway is. I visited Kitty Hawk and the Wright Brothers Memorial and took the tour and then headed north on US 158 and later NC 168 toward the Virginia border. I connected with Interstate 64 and drove to Williamsburg, VA where I am now. Williamsburg is one of the constants in my life. I started coming here in 1961 with my parents and though I’m here alone this time it is a family favorite yet. My wife couldn’t make the trip and I miss her and the children. Coming here at 56 years young and alone is different, but I still love the flowers and the smells that make Williamsburg a special place in my heart.

I got up early this morning and attended a prayer and meditation meeting at the Parish House of Bruton Parish. I walked from the hotel where I am staying the nearly mile and a half to Bruton. It was a lovely morning for a walk as the sun rose and the birds were flying and singing. It was great to be alive this morning in the quiet peace of early morning in Williamsburg, VA.

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Happy Easter

Last night I drove over to Mt. Irenaeus in the gathering twilight. Just as I got there and opened the door of my car I could see the most beautiful array of stars.  Last night was truly beautiful.  After stopping in the House of Peace and visiting with many dear friends whom I’ve met in years gone by I made my way to the chaapel area.  There were perhaps thirty of us assembled in the crisp night air around a pile of sticks that would soon be ablaze with the fire symbolic of the risen Christ.  As the liturgy began, Fr. Dan Riley, OFM invited us to look up and behold the firmament above us and to contemplate the darkness that the light of Christ pierces. Though darkness sometimes frightens me, I felt reassured and blessed last night looking up in the middle of this assembly. It’s not really the darkness that frightens me, it is the uncertainty.  Last night surrounded by the presence of so many friends and especially the familiar Franciscan friars of this friary I felt welcomed and reassured.

As the fire was lit and the liturgy began, Fr. Dan said, “This is the Passover of the Lord,” and then as now a reassuring presence gripped me.  This is a presence that transcends doctrine and theology but picks me up and reassures me that all is well with the universe. Easter is a celebration of life.  The Easter vigil at Mt. Irenaeus has been for me a reaffirmation of that celebration and as I sat and listened to the readings in the chapel with my own little candle and heard the creation story from Genesis I was reminded how important it is to hear those stories of how we came to be, not only the stories of Genesis but the stories of each of our families and how we fit. Our lives are celebration of life and to the precise extent that we don’t celebrate our lives we miss out on the resurrection. All around me this morning I see the resurrection in the robins on our lawn, the warm sun on my back, the blue sky in the distance, the awakened earth beneath my feet. The earth is alive, it is risen, we are risen. Lets go forth and celebrate that. Let’s live that.

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Palm Sunday

I began today at the Mountain and it was a lovely day for Palm Sunday indeed. Though we were surrounded by yesterday’s snow it was approaching the mid 40’s in the sun at 11 am as Fr. Dan Riley, OFM pictured in the stoll here invited us to sing “Hosanna.” I thought of the passage from Luke 19:39-40, “Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, tell your disciples to be quiet.” He replied, “I tell you, if they were quiet, the stones would cry out!”

Today as we processed toward Holy Peace Chapel and walked over the gravel ground I thought of those words again and how even the stones were crying out. Today begins Holy Week and for me it is my favorite time of the church year. Hosanna in the highest, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, Hosanna in the highest!

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We shall remain

This morning I got a preview of an epic televised special which will be airing on PBS next month. It is a topic near to my heart, not because I am a Native American, but because my life is so closely woven with those who are.  One of the people I have been privileged to call a friend in my life was a Seneca. He and his wife drove my wife and I away from the church on our wedding day. My father worked with the Seminole and Micosukee natives of South Florida and the Yurok and Karoks of Northern California too.  Nearly everywhere I look and all of the land I own was once theirs. In fact it all really belongs to the Creator as they call him.

Thanks to Public Broadcasting System for bringing us this special television event. We who have been quick to condemn others in the world for ethnic cleansing have our own past for which to atone. Lent is a time of rebirth and renewal. I hope this special can awaken one for us too.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jxf5w6e5tvQ]

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Death of the news

Has anyone noticed that news is dying?  I don’t mean that there aren’t any stories to be covered. There are more stories now than there ever have been but those stories are being covered more and more by people like you and me. We’re blogging, tweeting, texting and in the process we’ve made the talking heads on cable news and the pundits at newspapers increasingly irrelevant. Newspapers are literally dying in front of our eyes and I believe more and more net generation people get their news from Drudge, Huffington and elsewhere.  What do you think?

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Inspiration


I took a drive this afternoon over to lovely Letchworth State Park. This photo of the Letchworth gorge at Inspiration Point attempted to capture the grandeur of the Genesee River gorge there. Standing there in the sun this afternoon I was filled with a profound sense of gratitude at having made it to another spring. Like my grandmother before me, spring is my favorite season of the year. It is a resurrection of all that is beautiful. Today I watched hawks gliding gracefully through the crisp spring air and there was a hint of new growth on the forest floor at the edge of the gorge.

As I stood there I thought of the thousands of years it took to form this lovely canyon called by many the “Grand Canyon of the East.” I thought too of the Native Americans who first enjoyed this vista, the early American settlers to the region and the thousands of us who come each year to witness once again the grandeur of this place.