Dr. Mary Marrocco is an associate secretary for the Canadian Council of Churches. She is also a teacher, writer and lay pastoral worker. Morrocco explores the lives and writings of the saints, spiritual writers and theologians‚ and how they relate to contemporary life.
Jesse is in a tough spot. Having lost his business after personal troubles, he lives on a small pension. His grown-up children visit once in a while, bringing the grandkids, but he has few social contacts and seems unneeded in the world. How has he coped? “Faith in God” is his ready response to this question. Yet he’s angry with God, too, with himself, and with the systems that didn’t rescue him.
A concert I attended last month included George Gershwin’s “Summertime.” Not a favourite of mine, but that evening I felt the song’s appeal. In music and words, it carries a sense of relaxed fullness, an invitation into a lush, protected place where the “livin’ is easy,” the harshness of the world far-off at the edges: “fish are jumpin’ and the cotton is high... there ain’t nothin’ can harm you, with mama and daddy standin’ by.”
One of the most gifted actors I’ve observed is Robert Duvall. From fearless napalm-loving Lt. Col. Kilgore in Apocalypse Now, to shy retired Cuban barber in Wrestling Ernest Hemingway, or mild-mannered consigliere of The Godfather, he gives life to an astonishing array of characters.
Did I really want to spend a long evening sitting alone in a chapel — not getting done any of the things I wanted to get done, not visiting any of the people I wanted to visit, not having any of the adventures I wanted on a Friday night? Instead, a seven to midnight Lenten prayer vigil.
In one of my favourite stories, four children travel to a secret country. On their second trip, they discover the ruins of a castle. Together they descend a dark, cold staircase into a vast underground chamber. Shining flashlights all round, they discover it’s filled with gems, jewels and treasures, all covered over with thick layers of dust.
Sharon sat on one side of it, James on the other. It was too tall to climb, too thick to break, too endless to go around. They couldn’t hear each other through its mass. The morning sun coming through the window shone on them both, but they were looking at the floor. Each felt alone, abandoned, angry and a little afraid, sitting some distance away from that wall, unmoving. Her arms were folded on her chest. He was sunk into his chair like a reprimanded six-year-old. Given its immense size and the innumerable ways it affected their lives, it’s surprising they could get so used to the invisible wall. And it ran right down the middle of their marriage.
VATICAN CITY - Pope Francis, in mourning for the deaths of his…Read more...
Although evangelical moviemakers have been in the spotlight lately with features such…Read more...