Seeking Authentic Voice

In June 1941 the United States shut down all visa applications for anyone entering the US who had close relatives in Germany. It was during this same time that Otto Frank was applying for visas for his family to come to the US. Otto Frank was the father of the Anne Frank, whose well read diaries depict the atrocities of Auschwitz and the holocaust. Think of how very different her story might have been if the US had granted her and her family visas. Clara Williams was born in 1885. In 1928 she enrolled at New Mexico State University, taking only summer courses in order to teach black kids in the public school system during the school year. Because she was a black woman her professors at New Mexico State University would not allow her in the classroom, so she took notes from the hallway. She graduated nine years later with a Bachelor’s Degree in English at the age of 51. This fall a couple of women started an online campaign called “Together Rising” to raise funds for Syrian ref...

Nearly thirty years ago, when Dan and I were new to church, if we skipped church for a couple of Sundays in a row we’d get a phone call from Masie. Those phone calls made me feel a little guilty, but that was my problem. Masie just called to see how we were and tell us he had missed us. It was a sweet gesture, one I came to appreciate. Masie was a retired eye doctor, a Japanese American.  When he was a young man the US government uprooted Masie and his family and sent them to a Japanese relocation camp in Arkansas.  After the war he ended up in Illinois. He was a lifelong faithful Episcopalian. Divorced and remarried, he and his second wife were, for many years, denied communion in the Episcopal Church. Masie faced many challenges in his life, and shared these stories with some sadness. Nonetheless he chose to be gentle, welcoming, kind, and faithful. He was an active, vital member of that small church in Chicago until the day of his death. Ten years later that church...

 A reflection on the readings for Advent 3C: Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:7-18 When I was in the fifth grade, and living in Wisconsin, we ended the school year with an over-night camping trip.   I remember a long bus ride through the country to reach the camp site. Over the next two days we sang songs and participated in sports and activities. Back then we didn’t have high ropes courses or team-building activities or rock climbing. Instead I learned how to shoot a bow and arrow and how to load and shoot a rifle.  On the bus ride home I sat near a girl who caught my attention for she was drawn into herself, not engaging in the playful banter of the rest of us. She was pensive and sat staring out the window. Someone told me that her baby brother had died the summer before. He was a toddler who wandered out of the house and drowned in the swimming pool. I said something in response, I don’t remember what. Something that I thought would be astute but came out as so...