Lord, teach me. . . .

God is the offering. God is the offered, poured out by God. God is attained by all those who see God in action. –Bhagavad Gita This week has been “history in the making” in the United States. Pope Francis arrived, not so much in his own glory, but seeking to shine the light of God into a nation sometimes mired in its own darkness (like every nation). It’s been an interesting week, as lines have been drawn at times—but also blurred. As the pope arrived on the eve of Yom Kippur, Jews gathered at the Lincoln Memorial for a service of repentance and forgiveness. In another city, Christians and Muslims, in a rare moment of interfaith courage, came together and prayed for one another. A saint was canonized. His Holiness addressed Congress. For a few days, all eyes seemed turned in one direction, pointing towards reconciliation. But then the grumbling began. He’s the pope , not a politician! He needs to stick to God-talk. Where does he get off talking about climate change .

I love you when you bow in your mosque, kneel in your temple, pray in your church. For you and I are [children] of one religion, and it is the spirit. –Khalil Gibran There are a whole lot of other things happening on Sunday morning besides church. If your place of worship offers services on other days and times—well, there are certainly plenty of other options then, as well. So why do this? What is it about this time together that keeps us (you) coming back, week after week? Stop for a minute and really think about this. Is it the music? Whether it’s Switchfoot or Chopin, Haydn or Hillsong, music is a vital part of worship for many. But let’s face it: Sirius ® can offer all this music and more —plus news, sports. . . . There must be another reason. Maybe you’re drawn by the dynamic message of the spoken word, inspiring and potentially life-changing. Again—so many other places to get a “Jesus fix” (including “90-second Sermons” when you’re short on time). From the ou

Each one of them is Jesus in disguise. –Mother Teresa We have this man who lives on our street, a gentle soul. I can never remember his name, and I think maybe he likes it that way. Last February, Old Man Winter came on like gangbusters, with falling snow and falling temperatures. The wind picked up that snow, danced a few bars and plopped it unceremoniously back on the driveway. I looked out the window and sighed, wishing my strong, willing husband wasn’t in Montana. But then I heard it, the low, steady hum of a snow blower making its way slowly, slowly up the street—and up my driveway! My unnamed neighbor, dressed in Carhartt from head to toe, made light work of my driveway and moved on to the next one. . . . About a month ago, when the young couple across the street (new to the neighborhood) let the grass get a little too tall and a little too shaggy, there he was one morning, this time with his power mower. He came, he mowed—and he moseyed off in anonymity. Carin

It’s not enough to attend church every Sunday; you have to act. –Abbe Pierre Summer is drawing to a close. The tinkly music of the ice cream truck is giving way to the growl and groan of school buses. Children (of all ages) trade in flip flops and tube tops for “real” clothes. It never fails: Nature sends off one last blast of summer heat before the crisp chill of autumn creeps in. Our routine at Church in the Circle changes, as well. Our casual worship in the air-conditioned comfort of the Great Hall draws to a close as we prepare to return to the Sanctuary upstairs, where some might say “real” church happens. And in between, that connecting Sunday lovingly known as Rally Day: casual worship outside on the lawn, and hot dogs after. We dare to storm the walls— out —where the world will see us and hear us in all our celebration and imperfection. Letting people see us and hear us makes them wonder, perhaps, if there is a place for them. If they might belong in this communi