Christmas Stories

Posted on December 19, 2025 by richp45198

I am a big believer in story-telling. I was told once that in the El Paso community I was known as a psychologist who told stories. And indeed stories are a great way to communicate therapeutic notions. But some stories are just good stories. I hope you have a few good stories about Christmas. If you’ve heard mine before, please forgive me. But some good stories are worth repeating.

When I was young, I often served Mass at a local center for retired nuns. One Christmas while we served Mass and then enjoyed some cocoa and cookies served by the nuns, it had been snowing. As my friend Butch Mellody and I started home we began to cross the hockey field at the local girls’ college. The field was covered with snow and was untouched. That moment at about one in the morning, standing before great beauty, seemed sacred to me. It still does.

Another Christmas season I worked as a mailman. One day I entered an apartment house to deliver mail. I was cold and miserable. A man was standing there waiting for his mail and I expected the same complaint I had been receiving: “Why are you so late?” This man whispered something and I thought “Here it comes!” I said “I beg your pardon?” and in a moment frozen in time, he put a microphone to his throat and said in a staticky voice “Merry Christmas”. I realized he had throat cancer and yet he added “And a Happy New Year.” How trivial my complaints about the cold and the customers felt as I left him thumbing through his mail.

There is the story of my mother on her last Christmas. I had received word of her cancer and the decision against chemotherapy. So I went back East to visit with her one last time. It was a beautiful time. But on the day before I was leaving, one week before Christmas, I walked into her room and she said “What are you doing here?” A little off-guard, i said “Mom, I’m not leaving until tomorrow.” She said “Isn’t today Christmas?” And I said no. But then I realized what she was up to. “Mom, are you trying to stay alive through Christmas?” She said “Of course I am! I don’t want to spoil everyone’s Christmas!” Ad that’s exactly what she did She slipped into a coma Christmas evening and died three days later.

Unlike Ralphie from a Christmas story, I don’t have a Christmas gift story about something like a Red Ryder rifle. But I do have a story about a silly little Christmas tree with trinkets on it, the kind of trinkets that might come in a box on Cracker Jacks. There’s a whistle, a light bulb, a key, a frying egg, and a harmonica that works. When I was 3 or 4, I saw that tree in a store I guess. I really liked it but was told it was too expensive. And yet Christmas morning there it was! I still have it. I suppose it reminds me of the simple joy found in a gift worth very little money-wise but with great meaning to a little boy.

I also have been blessed with listening to many Christmas stories. Some were not always happy ones yet needed to be told. Soldiers away from family at Christmas. Anniversary dates of losses. Memories of troubled families. Yet these stories too were in the minds and hearts of those telling them and I was and am always grateful they could share them with me.

So I hope you have a Christmas story or two and hope you share them.

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The Long Thanksgiving Dinner 2025

Posted on December 1, 2025 by richp45198

Thanksgiving has come and gone but it is never too late to celebrate this greatest of holidays! It is a time to celebrate family. It is a time to remind ourselves of the need for ongoing gratitude, especially during these days when fear and anger seem prevalent.

In the past, I have written about Thornton Wilder’s beautiful one act play “The Long Christmas Dinner” in which the life cycle of a family is portrayed over an imagined dinner in which persons come in through a white birth curtain and leave through a black curtain.

For me, that table is set at Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday. I can see generations gathered about that table. Many have gone through the Black Curtain, some quite suddenly, some way too young.

One of my sisters never even makes it to the table. She comes to the table and leaves immediately through the Black Curtain. My other sister sits for only a moment, then also leaves.

But I also see many loved ones who sat at that table many times. My parents and my brother are there. Although she is aged, my Mom leaves the table quickly while my father takes a long slow walk to the Black Curtain.

I see old Aunt Margaret, she who was in Paris when Lindbergh landed. She who saw Babe Ruth play baseball (“Clumsiest man I ever saw!”). She who, in her 90s, gave me the finest anti-war sentiment I ever heard as she shook her head and said “So many young men.”

There are my Uncle Gaddy and Aunt Peg, my surrogate grandparents. I never sat at the table with my grandmothers. They had walked through the Black Curtain before I walked through the white one.. My grandfathers were also gone by the time I was 7. So these two wonderful people filled a great void — Gaddy with his burly Irish accent, the smell of cigars about him and Peg, maker of the World’s Greatest Peanut Butter cookies.

Aunt Mary is there, she who was schizophrenic, carrying on a constant patter of self-talk or reading romance novels.

I see too my Uncle Joe and Aunt Kathleen. She was sophisticated and helped John F. Kennedy carry the vote in Rhode Island. He was a veteran of the South Pacific, down-to-earth, smoking a cigarette as he was dying of lung cancer. Among many things, he helped me love the Redsox.

I see my Aunt Dorothy, my father’s only sibling. She who never married and the day after she retired, quit drinking, packed up and moved to California to be closer to my brother, leaving behind a stunning example of courage.

And I see my wife and family. For they — my wife, my children, my grandchildren and my son- and daughters-in-law– are at the center of my gratitude.

And yet, as I gather with my family, I will pause to be grateful for the many wonderful people, friends and family alike, who have gathered at my Thanksgiving table in person or in spirit. As always, others who were present in the past have slowly or quickly left the table for the black curtain. Yet all who grace and have graced that table will be present. We will join hands in gratitude and in hope, remembering especially this year the words from Shawshank Redemption: “Hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies.”

Happy Thanksgiving!

Here is the great Perry Como. Even as he aged, his voice still was a blessing!

Perry Como Live – Bless This House

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Senses as a Gateway to God

Posted on November 12, 2025 by richp45198

The Catholicism of my youth was at odds with our bodies. We were usually reminded that our bodies are “temples of the Holy Spirit”, implying that our human desires had no place in that temple. Further, discussions of sin tended to emphasize sexual sins, putting us further odds with our bodies, especially as puberty arrived.

I remember feeling some joy and relief when I first saw the film Chariots of Fire. At one point, Eric Liddel is trying to explain his love of running to his sister. He says: “God made me for a purpose…..But He also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure.”

God in the midst of pleasure? What a revolutionary moment for me!

As time passed, I began to recognize that some profound spiritual experiences did not happen in churches but rather in the midst of sensory experience. The notion “live in the now” became popular and, to some extent, trivialized. But I did see that “living in the now” required me to be in touch with my senses.

Some of my greatest spiritual experiences have been sensual. Seeing Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Hearing Andrea Bocelli in concert singing Nessum Dorma. The coolness and emptiness of a pristine beach near the Skelligs in Ireland as I ran.

But suppose that I can connect with the God of my understanding on a regular basis just by paying attention to my senses? What might that look like?

I first realized that, to experience my God through my senses, I have to pay attention. I remember once I was walking home on my Good Friday walk. I was trying to figure out the whole notion of living in the now. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted several bird cages hanging from a house roof. The birds were singing! I stopped and listened to their concert. God was in that moment and, for a change, I paid attention. All I had to do was to stop, watch, and listen.

To be open to my senses, however, means that I have to accept unpleasant sensations. The pain from a 20-stitch gash in my leg (which, by the way, resulted from not paying attention!) The smell of burning dumps back in my hometown. (My mother, always finding God throughout her day, used to comment that the Sulphur in the air caused beautiful sunsets). The taste of sour milk. The sight of an immigrant detention center. The sound of my loved ones crying. I can’t be open to the good experiences while avoiding the unpleasant ones. It’s a package deal. Light has no meaning without darkness.

And, yes, God is there in the midst of sexual union in a profound way.

In the play The Fantastiks the narrator says “Celebrate sensation!” Indeed we should celebrate sensation. It can become a beautiful form of prayer.

When I look back on the notion of our bodies as temples of the Holy Spirit, I recognize that I did desecrate the temple of my body when I smoked three packages of cigarettes or a six-pack of beer each day with more on weekends. I desecrated this temple when I did not take medication for asthma in a proper way. But through prayer and meditation of the body, I have learned to honor that temple.

Here then are some of the recent entries in my prayerbook of the senses:

The desert and sky on a recent hike in the Franklin Mountains

Hearing my daughter practice her French horn

Tasting my wife’s homemade cookies

Hugs on Becky and Ben’s recent visits home

The fresh smell after the rare rainstorm in El Paso

For me to connect with God through my senses, I must pay attention. Jacob’s words stand as a reminder: “God was in this place and I did not know it!” (Genesis 28:16)

Reflection: How do you experience the God of your understanding through your senses?

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Favorite Bible Passages

Posted on October 31, 2025 by richp45198

Last Sunday I was assigned to do the reading at Mass. It was from 2 Timothy and was a favorite passage of mine; however, the translation watered it down and so, when I read it, I did so with the phrasing I like. The passage has great meaning to me and I didn’t appreciate some translator watering it down.

That experience in turn got me to reflect on favorite Bible passages. I am about to finish reading the Bible again and continue to have all kinds of mixed reactions. Some parts make my heart soar. Other parts sadden me. Others get me thinking. And, yes, some parts are still crushingly boring. And, yes, the Bible isn’t the only book of wisdom that I read. For me, each time I read it I relate to the humanness of David and to the anger of Job. My heart soars with some of Isaiah’s poetry. I get a lump in my throat when I read of Jesus and Dismas.

Here is the passage I read last Sunday “I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race. I have kept the faith.” (2Timothy 4:7) As a runner who has run a few marathons, I understand that faith at times requires endurance and that, as I ran the streets of New York City or Falmouth or DC, I fought with myself, being tempted to give up. This passage too calls to mind the faith of people like my mother and mother-in-law, women who maintained a deep faith in the face of deep tragedies.

“Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10) This passage is the cornerstone of my efforts to meditate. As 12_steppers say, prayer is talking to God and meditation is listening. To listen, I have to quiet my mind, something I find quite challenging. Repeating this passage in rhythm with my breathing helps.

“They that wait upon the Lord will renew their strength. They will mount up with wings as eagles. They will run and not go weary. They will walk and not grow feint”. (Isaiah 40:31) Another running image! Inspired by the film Chariots of Fire this passage helps me negotiate the tricky calling to “let go and let God.” A stained glass plaque with this passage given to me by my son Ben is on my wall where I see it every day.

“I believe, Lord. Help me in my unbelief.” (Mark 9:24) A man seeking Jesus’ help with a dying son makes this honest admission and Jesus helps him. As a man who struggles with doubts, this gives me hope.

“When I was a child, I spoke as a child. I thought as a child. I reasoned as a child. When I became a man, I put away childish things.” (Mark 9:24) On two different occasions, I was advised that perhaps my faith needed to grow up. The nerve of that priest and that therapist! They were, of course, right. For my faith to grow up, I have had to face doubts. I have had to face the anger I sometimes hold toward God. I have had to base my religious journey on something other than guilt and fear.

“Teach us to number our days that we may have wisdom of heart” (Psalms 90:12) This passage reminds me not to take life for granted and to live with a heart of gratitude. The great temptation is to take our lives for granted and to assume we’ll be around a long time. This Psalm call us to challenge that assumption, not out of fear but out of appreciation.

“Today you will be with me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:43) These words of Jesus to Dismas as they both were dying on crosses continues to be a source of great hope to me. This story of Dismas, also known as the Good Thief, appears only in the Gospel of Luke. Dismas was at rock bottom yet reached out to Jesus with hope. Jesus did not turn him away. As a person in recovery, Dismas is my patron saint.

Other better known passages such as Psalm 23 and Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount (I sure wish the politicians would at least read this!) have also helped me and challenged me. I am sure there are more passages waiting for me when I will need them.

I’ll close with this great scene from Chariots of Fire.

Reflections: Do you have any favorite Bible passages?

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Disputed Passages

Posted on October 21, 2025 by richp45198

Recently my son Ben posted this quote by Walt Whitman on his Linkdin page and invited readers to reflect on what they have learned on their “disputed passage”

“Have you learned lessons only of those who admired you, and were tender with you, and stood aside for you? Have you not learned the great lessons of those who rejected you, and braced themselves against you? or who treated you with contempt, or disputed the passage with you?” — Walt Whitman

This is a topic many of us expend energy avoiding and indeed I don’t like thinking about people who have hurt and angered me, much less the messes I created myself. I also don’t like thinking about events in my life I regret. Zen Buddhists as well as Stoics would challenge us to recognize the potential lesson present in any negative event.

When someone hurts or offends you, you have a choice. You can try to minimize it (“Who cares what N. thinks about me?”) I tried this on many occasions such as when I heard another psychologist had been referring to me as “eccentric” or when a church official labelled me “an enemy of the Church.”.

We can also allow the hurt to fester into a resentment. Sometimes we are not even aware of how much resentment we carry. Once a friend sensed my issues with resentment and recommended this exercise:

“Imagine you are sitting on a dock watching a ship approaching. As the ship nears you realize you know people on the ship. As the ship docks and people disembark, you realize they are all people toward whom you hold a resentment.”

When he suggested this I thought “OK. I’ll do that. Probably there will be 3 or 4 people.” I decided to write down names of those getting off the boat. I quit writing after filling two columns on a legal pad. And there were still people getting off the boat!

We can do other things like retaliate, perhaps with harsh words or actions. Perhaps even with violence. We can also wallow in self-pity. As one man once told me “I am the opposite of King Midas. Everything I touch turns into shit!”

What Whitman’s words suggest, however, is that we also have the option of turning the hurt into a learning. We can approach these “disputed passages” as opportunities for growth. I may not have had control over the hurtful events but I do have control over my response.

This does not mean that we allow ourselves to be someone’s emotional punching bag so that we might learn something. For some hurts, the learning may be that I need stronger boundaries or even that I learn to walk away.

Sometimes, though, a disputed passage invites me to look at myself with a critical eye. As the 12 Step program says, when we point a finger at someone, the other fingers point at us. Thus we may need to ask ourselves “What role did I play in this event?” A word of caution, however. When it comes to matters of physical, sexual, and emotional abuse, too often the victim will blame themselves. The challenge of those disputed passages is for the victim to accept that he/she did nothing to bring on the attack.

In most of the disputed passages on my own list, I brought them on myself. The disputed passage (e.g., almost flunking out of graduate school), challenged me to take responsibility for my own behavior instead of blaming others.

Finally, some disputed passages just happen. They are not brought on by anyone. They just happen. Illness is an example. Some people, when faced with a diagnosis, become bitter, resentful, even angry with God. Others become depressed and withdrawn. But even then we are faced with the option of choosing how we will respond. I have been fortunate to have sat with persons facing life-threatening illnesses who taught me much about facing the ultimate disputed passage.

There is a Zen story about a man who injured his leg with an axe. As he tried to treat the wound, he became angry, blaming the maker of the axe, the quality of the wood he was chopping, berating himself for being stupid and so on. A Zen master came by and saw the wounded man and assisted him in binding the wound. The man began to vent his anger and blame. The Zen master told him that life had shot him with an arrow when he injured his leg. “But now you are shooting yourself with another arrow” by which he meant the bitterness and anger the man was feeling. The man may have had no control over being shot by the first arrow but had control over hot shooting the second one.

Whitman would agree with the Zen tale. Life being what it is, we are shot with arrows, disputed passages. But we take each arrow, each disputed passage, as an opportunity to grow.

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Fr. Mychal Judge: A 9/11 Remembrance

Posted on September 11, 2025 by richp45198

In recognition of the 24th anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy, I repost this tribute to Fr. Mychal Judge, a man who deserves to be recognized as a saint. At this point in my journey, I have a need to surround myself with people of solid faith. Some I such as my wife I know personally. Others i have encountered in writings or film. I remember hearing Fr. Judge’s name mentioned in a newscast on the night of 9/11 as having died that day. May his memory be a blessing to us all!

On Martyrs: Fr. Mychal Judge

Posted on July 16, 2012 by richp45198

Fr. Mychal Judge is best known to most of us for his courageous actions as a New York City Fire Department Chaplain. On 9/11, he sacrificed his life as he administered the Last Rites.

There is a famous picture of Father Mychal being carried away from the site of his death. But I selected the above picture because, as significant as was his death, his life was more than that last act of heroism. Much more.

Fr. Mychal was a Wounded Healer. He drew upon his own struggles to reach out to many long before 9/11.

First of all, he was a recovering alcoholic some 23 years clean and sober at the time of his death. He remained active in Alcoholics Anonymous and, through his own recovery, helped others find their way to sobriety.

Fr. Mychal was also gay, a Franciscan priest in a religious organization not known for its welcoming attitude toward gays. While he did not advertise his sexual identity, he worked tirelessly on behalf of gay rights. When gays were turned away by the Catholic Church, he continued to minister to members of Dignity, a support program for Catholic gays and lesbians. Even moreso, he tended to the spiritual needs of many New Yorkers suffering and dying from AIDS. He reached out to them in the days when people still believed AIDS was contagious.

For me Fr. Mychal has come to represent several themes. First of all, he is a brother in recovery, one more person whose example has helped me find my own way. Second, he stands as an example of what is best about the Catholic Church. He has helped me see that there are really two Catholic Churches out here. One is authoritarian and repressive. But there is a second Church that welcomes all gays and lesbians, immigrants, persons of all race and color, veterans. That Church often comes under attack such that these times for that Church are especially hard in these days when gays and lesbians are still not welcome and persons are censured for speaking out. This second Church is invisible but I belong to it and am proud of that membership.

Fr. Mychal was rightly loved and revered by the New York City Fire Department. His heroism, however, was present long before in he died amidst the ashes.

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Chaplain (CPT) Emil J. Kapaun: A Saint for Our Time

Posted on August 22, 2025 by richp45198

I had never heard of Fr. Emil Kapaun until I saw the documentary “Fighting Spirit: A Combat Chaplain’s Journey”. The film focuses on the healing journey of former Chaplain Justin Roberts trying to recover from combat PTSD. He learned of the return of the remains of Chaplain Kapaun to his home in Kansas and journeyed there to be a part of the funeral. The film includes stories of military chaplains past and present.

Some of these stories I knew. I had written a previous blog on the Four Immortal Chaplains (https://psycheandspirit.net/2022/04/01/heroes-the-four-immortal-chaplains/) When I was young I read I Was Chaplain on the Franklin, by and about Fr. Joseph Callahan. The film includes stories from and about chaplains current and past. But the film focuses on Father Kapaun and the return of his remains to Kansas.

Emil Kapaun was a Catholic priest from Kansas who served as an Army chaplain during WWII. As the Korean situation began to heat up, he reenlisted and was assigned to a unit headed to Japan then Korea. I was delighted to learn that he joined this unit at Ft. Bliss in El Paso TX. I too served at Ft. Bliss some years later but it is a connection with him that means a lot to me.

Fr. Kapaun served amidst fierce combat and consistently put himself in the line of fire to rescue a wounded soldier or to administer the Last Rites. The picture above shows him reading Mass from the hood of an Army jeep. He was fired at many times and this picture below shows him proudly displaying his pipe which was shot and broken.

As his unit was being ordered to retreat, Fr. Kapaun stayed behind to minister to the wounded and thus became a prisoner of war.

Fellow prisoners who survived these times of horror, torture, and stravation all attributed the enduring faith of Fr. Kapaun as main factor in their survival. Several owed their lives to him including SFC Herbert Miller. Fr. Kapaun’s rescue of SFC Miller earned him the posthumous Congressional Medal of Honor. His actions were described by President Obama: ” Chaplain Kapaun, with complete disregard for his personal safety, bravely pushed aside an enemy soldier preparing to execute Sergeant First Class Herbert A. Miller”

If one reads a book such as No Bullet Got Me Yet: The Relentless Faith of Father Kapaun it is replete with stories of his tireless ministry. One of my favorite stories about him told of how he would sneak out at night to try to steal some extra grain to feed the starving soldiers. Just before going on his mission of theft, he would pray to St. Dismas for help. Dismas is better known as the Good Thief. Dismas is my favorite saint.

When Fr. Kapaun died in the POW camp, his remains were to be dumped into a mass grave. They were not. A group of soldiers buried him in a small single grave. That led the way, some years later, to his remains being identified and returned to Kansas.

Last year Pope Francis named Father Kapaun Venerable which is the second of four steps to naming him a saint.

In my own twisted spiritual journey, I now see that I need to be surrounded by people of deep faith. I have been blessed with such people, some through personal relationships others through reading their work. Thus, to the group of angels of faith in my life, I am grateful to add Father Emil Kapaun.

Here is a preview of Fighting Spirit. It is worth your time

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August 3 Six Years Later

Posted on August 3, 2025 by richp45198

I wanted to repost this in honor of loved ones lost on 8/3/19 as well as in tribute to those families that suffered those losses.

Sadly, what I wrote 6 years ago has come to pass. No progress has been made with gun control and in fact it is easier than ever to purchase a weapon. Beyond that. we live in a time of morally questionable leaders who claim to be Christian.

But we have been here before. Politicians capitalizing on fear is not new. Television personalities being attacked by political leaders is not new. Presidents of questionable moral integrity is not new. I have to believe that there are still honorable leaders out there and that their voices will carry the day as happened during the very similar time known as McCarthyism. Heroes of that time included Senators such as Stuart Symington, lawyers such as Joseph Welch, and television personalities such as Edward R. Murrow. History has honored them for their courage.

So, yes, I continue to hope that such heroes are with us now and will continue to stand up and be counted. I hope, too, that the violence of a Walmart shooting will lead us all to examine our violence within and to embrace a true message of non-violence.

Since 2019 I came to know some people who were directly affected on that terrible day. Their own courage will inspire me the rest of my days.

So take a moment today and say a prayer for the victims of the Walmart mass shooting of 8/3/19 as well as their families. May their memories be a blessing.

El Paso

Posted on August 12, 2019 by richp45198

It has been a week since a young man entered a local Walmart and opened fire. El Paso is grieving. El Paso is angry. El Paso is struggling to answer the “Why?” question, not just psychologically but spiritually.

Racism, like war, has been with us always. From my perspective racism goes beyond skin color and reflects the attitude of hostility and persecution of anyone whom I consider “different”, whether that difference is due to skin color, sexual identity, disability, or the many other ways we are unique.

Yes, there has been much racist rhetoric of late. And yes it is unconscionable for a 19 year-old young man to be able to buy a semi-automatic weapon. But the problems go beyond politics and gun control. I remain convinced that, for there to be an end to any form of violence, I must first heal the violence and racism within my own heart and mind. I must be willing to confront within myself the ways in which I judge others not only as different than but as less than. Do I look down on the street corner beggar, the “unenlightened” person of another political party, the prostitute working his or her street corner, the red-haired child on the playground? If we are honest, we all can find some form of such racism within, motivating us to judge someone as “less than”. None of us are immune from such thinking although too many of us like to think we are above it. It is never easy to face that “enemy within”.

El Paso is my home and my home is hurting. But my immediate concern is that time will pass and so will the attention paid to this tragedy. And nothing will change. We do indeed need to find a way to hold our leaders accountable for inflammatory rhetoric. We do indeed need to acknowledge that little has been done after such tragedies so that guns are not so easy to obtain. That is my fear. A year from now people will gather outside Walmart and remember those who were murdered. But the lawmakers will have done little to ensure it won’t happen again.

I have little control over politicians. But I do have the power to face my own inner racism, to bring it to the light of day, and to heal it. In many ways, if more of us, whatever our ethnicity, sexual orientation, position in life, if we try to heal the violence and ugliness within, then perhaps, in a small but significant way, there won’t be another El Paso.

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On Spiritual Experience

Posted on July 24, 2025 by richp45198

I recently had a spiritual experience. Our family was gathered on the coast of Oregon and one evening the area was enveloped in fog. I felt drawn to the fog and so I walked through the fog down to the ocean. I stood by the ocean and recited aloud Carl Sandburg’s poem “Fog” and then recited “Sea Fever” by John Masefield. In that moment, I felt deeply connected to the ocean and to the fog. I wish I could hold onto that experience.

Over the years in my work as a psychotherapist who affirms the importance of the spiritual, many folks shared spiritual experiences with me. Some I could relate to. Others not. Some like my own experiences had to do with God. Others not.

I found an interesting article in Psychology Today from 2014 by Larry Culliford in which he identifies 8 types of spiritual experience. You might find the list helpful in laying claim to your own spiritual experiences:

Awareness of a patterning of events or what Jung called synchronicity, i.e., meaningful coincidence. I recall one such experience. I was preparing to go back East to spend some time with my dying mother. On my last day of work, a young woman came in to seek help dealing with her dying mother! At first I thought that was too close to home and perhaps I should refer her. But I chose to sit and listen. As I listened to myself, I realized the thoughts I shared were most helpful as I prepared for my own time with my mother. I met with that woman one more time a month later. By then, both her mother and mine had passed and the conversation had proved helpful. We both were at peace.

Awareness of a presence of God or a presence not named. The strongest sense I have had of the presence of God was on the morning of June 2 1983. That was the morning I woke up and felt the time had come for me to face my addiction to alcohol. But that energy did not come from me. It was and is the strongest experience I’ve had of grace.

Prayer being answered. For me, prayer is a slippery slope. I pray for my family every day and thankfully they are safe and well. But I have also dealt with unanswered prayer as have most of us.

Sacred presence in nature and a sense that all things are one. This was my experience on the coast of Oregon. There have been others. I recall my wife and I hiking in Santa Elena Canyon in Big Bend National Park. the setting was profoundly beautiful such that my wife said “I feel like singing.” We stood together and sang “Amazing Grace”. My wife the point up and we saw some hawks circling as if in response to our song. In that moment, I felt deeply connected to the birds, the canyon, and to my wife.

Awareness of the presence of the dead. Recently I had been diagnosed with melanoma. As I sat trying to address my fears, I felt some peace come over me. In sharing this with my wife in trying to understand it, my wife said “Today is your Mom’s birthday” and I did feel her calming presence.

Awareness of an evil presence. When I worked at the state hospital in South Carolina, I saw a video of a man who believed he was possessed by demons. Most of his narrative sounded more like mental illness but at one point his teeth chattered like when one is very cold, the kind of chattering you can’t do consciously. When he stopped, he said “That was Satan.” I never liked getting into looking for Satan in people’s issues. But when I think of that man, I wonder.

You might notice that the experiences I shared did not happen in Church. Spiritual experiences may happen for some within the context of religion. By and large, for me they have not. However, I do believe any spiritual experiences I have had (with the exception of that man in South Carolina) have been gifts from God. They have been there all along. Sometimes, like Jacob, I missed them such that I resonate to his words: “God was in this place and I, i did not know it.” So I must continue to work on paying attention.

Reflection: Feel free to share any spiritual experiences and/or your understanding of spiritual experience.

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Excerpt from”Turn to the Beatitudes”

Posted on July 5, 2025 by richp45198

Here is an excerpt from my latest article “Turn to the Beatitudes” published in St. Anthony Messenger, A link to the full article is provided at the end.

Christianity is in the news on a regular basis these days. Where I live, in Texas, there is increasing pressure to legislate teaching the Bible in public schools. Elsewhere we hear more about book banning. Our president once marketed a version of the Bible from which he made money. Not long into his presidency, he publicly attacked a minister who urged him to deal with such issues as immigration from a position of compassion. 

I find myself wondering what Jesus would think of the modern version of the religion and teachings named after him. I wonder if he would even recognize it. In my own distress over the current state of Christianity, I return to the core of Jesus’ teachings—the beatitudes—to see what light they would offer me. 

In Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, he outlines the essence of a Christian lifestyle. It is more than a guide for how to treat others; it is a reference point for all of us in assessing ourselves as Christians. As with many things Jesus said, it can also be twisted to serve one’s own purpose. 

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Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Clearly, Jesus looked with compassion on the poor as well as the marginalized and called us to do the same. In these divisive times and as we search for solutions to difficult issues such as immigration, it is important to note that Jesus called us all to reach out with compassion to those whom society might judge. He was on the side of AIDS patients when they were being judged. He is also on the side of the oppressed immigrant seeking safety for his or her family. 

Jesus is calling us to also address our attachments. Fortune. Fame. Power. Unhealthy attachments such as drugs, alcohol, self-centered sex. Jesus calls us to free ourselves from such attachments. 

It’s apparent to me that many Christians today exhibit considerable attachments to wealth and power, attachments that are at odds with being poor in spirit. 

Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted. Jesus, being human, mourned. When confronted with the death of his friend Lazarus, Jesus wept. At times, we are faced with dying to some part of ourselves. Perhaps we are faced with limitations through failure. Perhaps our health is challenged. Perhaps we are addicted. You might think it odd, but in many recovery programs, the recovering addict has to grieve the “death” of the addict. Often we must grieve before moving on to a new chapter in our lives. 

Jesus also suggests here that the loss I mourn will not be magically undone. In times of loss, none of us can fix the loss. What we can offer to one another is presence and comfort. We cannot minimize loss with thoughts about God’s will. What we can do is listen. 

When my mother died unexpectedly some years ago, I do not recall what different people said to me at her funeral. But I remember who was there. I remember the comfort I found, not in what they said, but simply in their presence. 

The full article is available at https://www.franciscanmedia.org/st-anthony-messenger/turn-to-the-beatitudes/

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