Alice this a outstanding prose, it show that this text was well worked and re-worked, what a wonderful and profound reflection on the base of your father’s faith and yours. Congratulations a thousand times. ❤️
Thank you for this well-written piece. Enough "story" to keep the interest in what might happen, enough personal sharing to make me think about my relationship with spirituality, faith and religion. I was raised with a protestant, religious mother (without the trappings of the catholic church, just singing and a sermon on Sunday) and an atheist father who listened to talks by an ecumenical society on Sunday morning. The choice was and is mine. After a spiritual experience in my youth in India, and a life long study of Buddhism, I now frequent a Hindu temple, where the motto is Love, Serve, Remember. I can live with that.
A good read, Alice. Your father and my mother are the same with their steadfast devotion to the Catholic faith. I too am a lapsed Catholic and more a practitioner of spirituality. I learn from other teachings particularly Buddhism. I still pray to God, ask for help and guidance, spill my woes. I’ve had to re-learn about God—someone more loving and accepting rather than the one of fear and punishment the way it was taught to me in Catholic school.
Alice, wonderful to read how your Dad found solace in his religion. Wherever we find our inner peace and faith is so individual and comforting. Keep the stories coming!
Love this one. Stirs memories of my own Spanish mother who also dipped her fingers in the holy water in the birdbath receptacle each week. Really beautiful.
You bet he would have reached out, held your hand and smiled! Here is what I love: how you weave in your father's voice - his voice is the golden thread that holds these stories together - I just love that. Also I love the inclusion of the story of his refusing to hit the button - I just love that.
I miss sitting at temple. I used to do so when I lived in Miami Beach, almost every Friday night. It never failed to give me a lift, and I was always welcomed. It was running joke in my family while my mother (for years) hoped I'd marry a nice Jewish man... I didn't dare tell her I'd likely never be chosen. But I always loved hearing her say it anyway. I'm really enjoying this new publication a lot. Thank you.
Differences between religious traditions aside, I also find that it's often easier to experience spirit in the unfamiliar setting of someone else's religion where the past isn't lurking.
Thank you for your lovely column about your father. To have such an understanding about his motivations and ideals is remarkable to me.
I also appreciated how much you “get” Judaism ( questions and values vs. dogma). Being a Jewish woman myself, I am comforted that I’ve always been able to question the tenets of my religion. For example, my beloved sister was buried in an Orthodox Jewish cemetery. When the rabbi asked who would say the memorial prayers (Kaddish) for her, my two sisters and I piped up “We would.” The rabbi of course said “No, I need a man.” After the ceremony, I went up to him and told him how hurt I was, that in my deep anguish over the death of my sister, I was not even allowed to mourn for her, according to the laws of that segment of Judaism. And I also told him how I hoped that things would change.
We’re, thankfully, allowed to question. Unfortunately, things have not changed in the Orthodox segment of Judaism.
I liked this brief depiction immensely. Your story touched me, flittered around the edges of some of my own life core beliefs, and for me, began to bridge the personal with the spiritual and universal. I too dwell in those three worlds.
Alice this a outstanding prose, it show that this text was well worked and re-worked, what a wonderful and profound reflection on the base of your father’s faith and yours. Congratulations a thousand times. ❤️
Thank you for this well-written piece. Enough "story" to keep the interest in what might happen, enough personal sharing to make me think about my relationship with spirituality, faith and religion. I was raised with a protestant, religious mother (without the trappings of the catholic church, just singing and a sermon on Sunday) and an atheist father who listened to talks by an ecumenical society on Sunday morning. The choice was and is mine. After a spiritual experience in my youth in India, and a life long study of Buddhism, I now frequent a Hindu temple, where the motto is Love, Serve, Remember. I can live with that.
A good read, Alice. Your father and my mother are the same with their steadfast devotion to the Catholic faith. I too am a lapsed Catholic and more a practitioner of spirituality. I learn from other teachings particularly Buddhism. I still pray to God, ask for help and guidance, spill my woes. I’ve had to re-learn about God—someone more loving and accepting rather than the one of fear and punishment the way it was taught to me in Catholic school.
Alice, wonderful to read how your Dad found solace in his religion. Wherever we find our inner peace and faith is so individual and comforting. Keep the stories coming!
Faith not only moves mountains. It is a mountain, too steep for some to climb, for others a trek worth attempting.
Love this one. Stirs memories of my own Spanish mother who also dipped her fingers in the holy water in the birdbath receptacle each week. Really beautiful.
You bet he would have reached out, held your hand and smiled! Here is what I love: how you weave in your father's voice - his voice is the golden thread that holds these stories together - I just love that. Also I love the inclusion of the story of his refusing to hit the button - I just love that.
I miss sitting at temple. I used to do so when I lived in Miami Beach, almost every Friday night. It never failed to give me a lift, and I was always welcomed. It was running joke in my family while my mother (for years) hoped I'd marry a nice Jewish man... I didn't dare tell her I'd likely never be chosen. But I always loved hearing her say it anyway. I'm really enjoying this new publication a lot. Thank you.
Dear Alice,
I am so enjoying the weekly instalments of your book.
I think this one should be forwarded to the Rabbi of whom you spoke so beautifully of.
Thank you for keeping me on your list.
xoxo
Rho
Differences between religious traditions aside, I also find that it's often easier to experience spirit in the unfamiliar setting of someone else's religion where the past isn't lurking.
Alice,
Thank you for your lovely column about your father. To have such an understanding about his motivations and ideals is remarkable to me.
I also appreciated how much you “get” Judaism ( questions and values vs. dogma). Being a Jewish woman myself, I am comforted that I’ve always been able to question the tenets of my religion. For example, my beloved sister was buried in an Orthodox Jewish cemetery. When the rabbi asked who would say the memorial prayers (Kaddish) for her, my two sisters and I piped up “We would.” The rabbi of course said “No, I need a man.” After the ceremony, I went up to him and told him how hurt I was, that in my deep anguish over the death of my sister, I was not even allowed to mourn for her, according to the laws of that segment of Judaism. And I also told him how I hoped that things would change.
We’re, thankfully, allowed to question. Unfortunately, things have not changed in the Orthodox segment of Judaism.
Jeri Greenberg
I love discovering more about your dad. Devotion. Wisdom. Stamps. Prayer. And to seeing the parallels and contrasts with your own life.
Alice,
I liked this brief depiction immensely. Your story touched me, flittered around the edges of some of my own life core beliefs, and for me, began to bridge the personal with the spiritual and universal. I too dwell in those three worlds.
With appreciation,
Dorree