Hearing the Call and
Learning about the Wider Environment
Springtime is a time of exuberance, freshness, freedom and new life.
It
is the time when trees leaf and birds return from deeper south or just pass
through. The springtime of life is filled with great possibilities some of
which are fulfilled in time and some of which will remain as distant dreams.
Springtime also contains uncertainties and stress, disappointments and first
failures. Spring comes but once as a time of life; so often this fact goes
unappreciated.
This period of my life was a time of
preparation. My formal education,
ironically, did not include a single class or portion of a class devoted to
environmental studies as such. However, each area of study and time period
served as a valuable remote preparation: my acquired construction skills for
appropriate technology; youthful political activity for generating citizen
concern; basic science and especially chemistry for planning and discipline;
and the automotive age for needed mobility and associated perils.
My educational process continued with my entry into the
Jesuits. Each
experience added to my knowledge and prepared for my future life: allowing
time to stop and affording me the opportunity to listen to the ongoing call
of God; developing a closer relationship to God through prayer and
meditation; pursuing a formal humanistic education; accepting the invitation
to enter the expansive world of books; understanding the importance of daily
exercise for physical health; recognizing a philosophical underpinning which
includes reflections on science and faith; discovering the thrill of nature
as part of a down-to-earth spirituality; exploring the contrast between
urban and rural environments; experiencing the election of Kennedy;
connecting the secular and the sacred in our lives; integrating theological
and scientific insights; and witnessing the clash of theological stances in
time of political turmoil.
HARBINGER OF SPRING
The
dove's call is the first song about
For just
a little winter time it's clear.
Soon
street cacophony and migrant bird drown out
its solo sound for another year.
Today in late winter
slow moving course
I heard
the first sound of the mourning dove
To others perhaps
lament, no, a spirit rushing force,
Spring's
morning, a name better thought of.
Through
the year it has a sorrowful moan
Time to get up it seems to say;
Nest-making, eating, spring seeds are sown,
"Get going, let's start a new day."
Doves
are the bearers of peace.
An olive sprig back to Noah's ark,
It bears
to us a similar word at least
This growing year now has its animated spark.
The stone rejected by the builders has proved to be the keystone.
(I Peter 2:7)
The Germs of Suburban Problems. We
hardly knew the word suburb in 1951,
and yet our efforts were creating the first suburbs, as were other builders
who were inviting residents to escape by auto to the compact towns of
another
era. My dad had built more than our home. In fact, he loved to build and
thought ahead to providing for the education of his growing brood. Home
building was one logical post-World War II possibility. A mix of farming
and
construction skills had the advantage of improving practical arts and also
allowed a diversity in income which augments family economics. For him,
constructed buildings, either as rentals or for sale, became the spare
capital on which academic expenses were met and family investment grew. We
were some of the first mixed occupation farmers who realized that small
farming was not sufficient income in itself. Now many follow this practice.
Sprawl and Dreams of Progress. The first group of
five of our houses
were on the far extreme of our farm, on a small unimproved road near a state
highway. They were nearer a neighbor who came over and objected to our
building program so near his home. We experienced rural resistance to
suburban sprawl and yet were not aware of it. Development has gray areas as
we would come to see later in life. We bought land nearer Maysville and
built a second batch of houses. One person came and said he heard we were
going to allow "colored" people to reside there. When he saw I had a hammer
in my hand he changed the subject -- though we had taken no steps to include
or exclude others in housing. Again, the elementary problems of housing
development were surfacing very quickly.
Home Construction has a Sacred Character.
It provides the structure and
opportunity for future creative homemaking. There is a sense of doing
something that will have benefits in the future provided the building lasts
-
- which is the fervent expectation of the builders. The ones who build
individual structures see the results of their work before their own eyes,
and there is a certain pride to this which enhances self-esteem. We watch
something take shape and marvel in the growing structure, and how it begins
with very humble and down-to-earth operations and then springs up like a
growing plant. Yet this emerging building has the mark of our creativity
imprinted on the form and parts as well as its enhancement of the location.
Construction on the small-scale gives one the sense of being able to do
things and do them with satisfaction. This is not as evident in larger
construction projects, where individual workers get lost in the complexity
of
immediate tasks, and only managers and architects are involved in perfecting
the anticipated product.
Blueprints from Memory. My dad had a way of
getting a plan for anything
in his head and put very little of it down on paper. He visualized the
entire house with no other person knowing precisely what was or would be the
grand plan. We were left guessing, though he was quite flexible when we
suggested different innovations for the house or grounds. We were allowed
to
be building partners in the small-time operations. Only gradually did the
creative work of art emerge and this gave the process a certain
participative
thrill.
No Electric Devices. The fear was that with so
many inexperienced
workers someone could get hurt using power tools. And so the electricity
was
not connected until the exterior was completed -- and thus no power tools
were present. We mixed cement by hand, sawed every piece of framing,
hammered every nail, augured every hole by hand drill and screwed every
screw
without the benefit of power tools. I chuckle when builders say they can
not
work because the electricity is off. We kept saws sharp and the tools in
prime condition, but the hands and arms were meant to be muscular at least
through the building months of summer.
Framing Timbers. We strived to use only local
native wood. We were
located near the sawmills of Rowan County with its oaks and poplar, for
which
the foothills of the Appalachians are so famous. The profit on construction
consisted of getting this framing material at the lowest possible cost
during
the off-season. We would store the framing timbers in our large airy barn
so
it would cure well and be ready for the summer house construction season.
Other materials such as roofing, shingle siding, and flooring were purchased
with this lower off-season cost in mind as well.
Specializing. Certain tasks were done better by
one or another person.
I did not like framing as much as concrete block laying, flooring, siding,
roofing, chimney-building and painting. Others had their specialties as
well. Theoretically, one could do all tasks, but electric work was done
(for
inspections' sake, though my brothers Charlie and Eddie were helpers) by
licensed electricians. The general plan was to build the house from
foundation to closed windows and doors (the exterior) during the summer
months, when we boys were home for vacation. The concentrated period of
construction was that hot muggy period of time while the crops were growing
from about the end of June after hay harvest to the first part of August and
silo-filling time. At that time we locked the doors and my Dad and a hired
fellow would return in winter when we were in school, build a fire and
complete the wallboard, interior doors, and trim. Sometimes we would help
with finishing touches while on short school vacations.
Asbestos Shingles. Many of the houses we built
after World War II had
asbestos siding. Fortunately most of the work was done out-of-doors where
the dust did not accumulate. We often had to shave the individual shingles
with a hand tool, a rasp, either because the shingle cutter left a jagged
edge or because the individual shingle needed a tighter fit. The powdery
asbestos dust would settle on the tools and on our hands -- and face.
Looking back, it was an unknown environmental threat, but not nearly so bad
as for those who would smoke cigarettes while shingling.
Work Breaks and Additions. The hot weather in
construction requires that
people take some form of mid-afternoon break. We would go to the
neighboring
service station and buy 12-ounce bottles of soft drinks, each choosing the
brand before we went. The bottles, which collected on the truck cab floor,
were exchanged for filled one, a practice which is done today in some
communities with strong recycling programs.
Other Family Construction Projects.
Besides houses, we built fences,
which was an art because of the rocky terrain, often blasting each post hole
with a third of a stick of dynamite. We used black locust posts that simply
wouldn't rot after years of use. We also built farm sheds and refurbished
several barns, built roadways and water gates, livestock pens and stalls,
loading chutes and small ponds, cisterns and rock walls. The earliest
construction I assisted on (when about five) was the building of the Silo
which consisted of holding the socket while my dad fastened about 4,500
small
bolts in the metal sections.
Construction Benefits. People who have had a
variety of construction
experiences stand out. They know how to use tools, size up a situation, and
respect the sizeable time it takes for the early portions of the job. Such
people know that floor joists have to be well built, certain portions of the
work done quickly so that the weather will not bother the structure
(roofing), the need to plan ahead for ordering and assembling supplies, and
an awareness of upcoming weather conditions. Builders are practical with
construction materials, similar to nurses with sick people. The experience
of building things stays for a lifetime, encouraging self-sufficiency, and
enhances an awareness of what constitutes basic needs and good craftmanship.
Overall Philosophy. Being able to make things and
see the end result
gives builders a can-do feeling which is lacking often among people who have
no work opportunities or who have been overly specialized within their
respective professions. I consider these folks to be "institutionalized" or
allowing themselves to be considered fit for only certain compartments. In
some ways participating in practical skills is a better preparation for life
than college. Both courses of learning were occurring at the same time for
us in our farm/building family. True, builders could become cocky and think
they could do about anything.
Reflection: In creating houses, builders initiate a
rudimentary form of
homemaking. What is constructed becomes the environs in which people will
live and thrive in security and relative comfort. The motivation is strong
to do the best job possible and to transmit improvements which will become
the elements in which a community will flourish -- for good homes are the
foundation of good community. Home-making becomes part of an Earth-healing
process; it transforms a neighborhood and becomes the root of authentic
human
development. It re-enforces confidence in each of us builders. We became
tanned; we used our muscles and brain; we worked as a team; we witnessed
others respecting what we did; and we had a product which was visible and
something to be proud of. We felt that we were making the world a better
place and adding decent, affordable homes in the process.
Prayers on the Dignity of work. Master Builder,
show us, who earn our
bread by the sweat of our brow, the way to extend kindness to co-workers and
express enthusiasm and responsibility in what we try to achieve. Keep
blessings rather than curses on our lips, smiles rather than frowns on our
faces, and place in our hearts the will to say thanks to bits of kindness
that others perform. Help us to be satisfied at being sowers who expect
others to reap the benefits after we are gone.
Always consider the other person to be better than yourself, so that
nobody thinks of his own interests first but everyone thinks of other
people's interest instead. (Philippians 2:3b-4)
During my college years at Xavier University in Cincinnati I was in
a
minority of 18-year olds allowed to vote (Kentucky permitted this before
much
of the nation). I had been interested in politics, especially during the
week at Boys State while in high school. During that week at the Fort Knox
military base, I was on the ticket of (later Kentucky's real Governor)
Julian
Carroll's party -- and became the majority party leader in the Boy's State
legislative body. Kentucky's real majority leader in the House was one of
the facilitators and even congratulated me on successfully exempting farm
produce from a state sales tax. So much for playing politician. In recent
years upon taking an unpopular stand, someone remarked that I was not a
politician. I said to him that I prefer the politics of Charles De Gaulle
rather than that of a American ward boss, that is, to stand for principle at
whatever the political cost and not worry about winning. However, I've come
to realize that politics is needed for political change whether on the
local,
state or national level. However, some of us are not adept at being
professional politicians, even though we toy with the art on occasion.
Conservative Tide. The election of 1952
pitted Adlai Stevenson, the
Democratic governor of Illinois, against the popular Dwight David
Eisenhower,
World War II hero. The results are well known today, but at that time I was
sorely disappointed. I can recall the "commiseration" by the many
Republicans going to Xavier University at the time of my sophomore year. In
one math course, I sat across from Jim Bunning who would later become a
Republican senator from Kentucky. On the whole I was immersed in a sea of
Cincinnati conservatism from one end of the school year to the next. During
the McCarthy-era I confess to defacing a petition in support of the
Wisconsin
Senator's inquisition -- which had been posted on an official bulletin
board.
Our logic teacher raised issues about McCarthy's
guilty-until-proven-innocent
tactics towards left-leaning celebrities. Actually, my emerging liberalism
was nothing more than a speck in a sea of Cincinnati conservatism.
Churches not for Political Expression. Homilies
should not descend to
partisan politics. It is not meant to be in the Church's Liturgy and really
is the space for concerned laity rather than the clergy -- who too often in
history have failed to conform to such a simple rule. The story goes that
our previous St. Patrick's Church pastor and church builder, Fr. Jones, an
Irishman from the ole' sod, said in his sermon at the start of World War I
"The d--- English are the worst b------s that God has put on the face of the
Earth." His detours from sacred subjects led to a federal investigation to
see whether he should be interned, during the War. A parish delegation of
notables, including the highly respected Attorney Joe Collins, went and
explained that in order for the parish to have a pastor he must not mix
politics with spiritual subjects. The advice was heeded reluctantly for the
rest of the war.
My only Partisan Venture. I never let
my own partisanship get the
better of me in my homilies except once. Performing Masses at St. Peter's
in
Washington, DC on Capitol Hill's House side, allowed us to be graced with
Catholic representatives in the congregation, especially on Holy Days. It
was Ascension Thursday and I looked into the audience and saw Peter Rodino,
a powerful committee chairperson, and Majority Leader Tip O'Neill. The
day's
Gospel asked "Why are you looking into the heavens?" The discussions of the
day involved the possible impeachment of President Nixon. I hit the point
with special emphasis "Why are we looking around. Everyone here has
something important to do -- and we must get on with the task whether it is
spiritual or political. Now is the time. Bite the bullet." Both of these
two key congressmen were in the forefront of a House which was
procrastinating on what needed to be done. The Ascension readings
encouraged
us to complete the tasks before us.
Debating. For three of my undergraduate years at
Xavier University I was
on the debate team. I liked to argue, but did not like political science
and
I found that my heavy load as a chemistry major, plus earning extra income
in
the laboratory, demanded a more careful allotment of time. Debating could
be
a major extracurricular "sport" and the Heidelberg (German) Club for
drinking
beer, the Alchemist Club (chemistry) and the Sodality for spiritual
activities were about all I could handle. In my sophomore year we were
hosts
of the National Catholic Debate Tournament, though the burden of my tasks
frayed my nerves then, as have conferences ever since. We had enough
youthful energy to travel by auto at night (often without a coach) to
Midwestern and Eastern colleges. In those days debate topics had
a
political flavor and appealed to pre-law and political science students --
who most of the rest of our team happened to be. Four of us went to the
Grand National at Fredericksburg, Virginia, where we were involved in a
complex, self-grading process for an exhausting eleven debates.
The art of
debating meant taking either side, but I preferred the side I believed in.
However, debating skills acquired during this period proved useful when
preaching or talking on a foreign topic at short notice.
Political Reflections. The American
democratic process is now being
threatened by big money and the resulting lethargy on the part of people,
who
feel they have little contribution to make. In fact, big money has soured
me
on the major political parties. As a priest, I try to avoid partisan
politics even though I attended Barry Commoner's nomination for president by
the Citizen's Party in 1980, and helped get Ralph Nader on the Kentucky
ballot for President in 1996 and 2000. Citizens must be engaged -- by
studying issues, lobbying, writing letters to Congress people, testifying at
public hearings and by voting. Anyone who has concern about saving the
Earth
and our system of government cannot remain aloof to some political action.
It is part of our national and global citizenship.
Prayer to the Holy Spirit. Holy
Spirit, make us aware of the need to
follow only your prompting and to assist and encourage others to do the
same.
Allow us to have the courage to confront others and to make difficult
decisions. Allow us the chance to listen and hear your voice as it gently
directs us on the path of life.
Faith is seeing the brilliant countenance of Christ looking up at us
from
every creature. (Ordination Card, 1967)
We budding scientists were challenged at Xavier
University to assist in
the unraveling of mystery both through study and through laboratory
research.
Chemistry opened our eyes to natural mysteries as did biology, physics,
geology and other sciences. Perhaps had geology been offered as a major I
would have gone into that field -- but chemistry had a very short line at
freshman registration, and it proved exciting but challenging from the first
class day. Organic chemistry was a double challenge because it demanded a
combination of theoretical knowledge, a vast memory of similar chemical
reactions and methods, and it is the link between biology (extractive
resources from the living world) and physics with its molecular orbital
theory and more fundamental mechanistic explanations. My junior year of
college year in 1953 was my first taste of organic chemistry with its
enormous array of chemicals in the form of plastic and polymer, medicinal
and
food additive, synthetic fiber and fire retardant, petroleum and pesticide.
Organic chemistry was changing the world and we were at ground level and
that
seemed to me to be quite challenging.
Stockroom Assistant. The chemistry stockroom is
where I gained some
extra money for my tuition and expenses. Fr. Miller, the Chairman, was a
special mentor. He would indulge one, even while "working," in conversation
on a wide range of topics. It was always entertaining to listen to his many
tales. He hardly ever slept, was an avid reader, had a desk that was piled
three-foot high with papers, from which he could pull with utter dexterity
and accuracy specific information. He was never without his Roman collar
and
white lab coat. He could keep a class in hysterics but then expected a
massive amount of chemistry textbook data to be given back in an
examination.
It was all part of preparing his many students for medical and dental
schools
and for advanced chemistry. He made a deep impression on countless
students.
Logan Hall. In 1953, Xavier's new chemistry
building was just being
completed and in that September, pre-med Jim Mulloy (from Louisville) and I
were selected to move in as residents, for our mere occupation helped keep
insurance rates lower. We got along quite well, but Jim, being very bright
and intense, had a way of letting off steam by producing a spontaneous
piercing scream. He did that only once inside but after that the screams
were done outdoors. Jim and I developed a modus vivendi with each having
his
proper territory and time for study. At that time, I started to smoke
cigarettes due to peer and studies pressure and the pervasive cigarette
advertisements of that time. When Jim went to medical school at the end of
that junior year, Dick Doepker became my roommate and co-resident through
my
next two years and beyond. Dick was a brilliant chemist and had a good
background in math. He was not as interested in the liberal arts courses
and
spent his quality time on his chemistry, which he continued through teaching
and research at the University of Miami (Florida) and at Gonzaga University
in Spokane, Washington.
Center of Campus. Living at the place one worked had
advantages and
disadvantages -- no commuting time, no dorm noises and distractions, no
lodging costs, no crossing campus on rainy days and no dorm distractions.
Chemical smells became more pronounced with the aging of the building. The
room was ample and there was a bath facility. There were large windows that
looked to the west and could be easily opened from the outside, allowing me
to climb through -- many times -- when keys were left inside. However it
was
somewhat disconcerting living away from the other dorm students. This was
especially true at the beginning when the building was being completed and
had no sewer covers. For a few weeks rats would run up and down the
corridors, but these couldn't acquire traction on the new polished terrazzo
floors and would skid fifty feet down the hall. They were soon gone but
other intruders and alarms made life quite interesting among the academic
buildings.
Studies Uneventful. Writing about one's study days
is difficult because
so little else happens. You put in your time, go to eat and to bed at
regular times, plan and bone up for examinations and spend hours in a
laboratory hoping the experiments work out. The extra time is punctuated by
other courses, by some social activities and by ball games and extra events.
Learning comes at different speeds for students. Some are able to acquire
knowledge very rapidly and move to loftier academia areas. Others must
labor
to learn and cram for exams. The quick learners can get into bad habits of
thinking life is an easy street that can be quickly satisfied by work in
between periods of free time. Many of my acquaintances suffered from under-
achievement and being awarded for it at both the best and the worst schools.
Others of us of moderate intelligence compensate by planning every moment
and
putting in extra time on studies in order to excel. It took me superior
master planning to keep my relatively high grades. One course that was very
difficult was that of analytical chemistry. At that time, it consisted of
obtaining unknown chemical samples and discovering their inorganic chemical
qualitative content or the more sophisticated quantitative content by
routines that were standard, skillful and lacking electronic
instrumentation.
The skills I acquired were similar to the ones our family gained building
houses without electric power tools and an Outward Bound Program demanding
that individuals excel on their own.
Interest versus Challenges. Science
took extra effort for me, whereas
history and later theology did not. Those came naturally and Fr. Shields,
the head of the History Department, told my friend and history major, Tom
Mitchell, he wondered why I didn't shift to history with such good grades.
In honesty, I probably would have but I did not regard history as a
challenge, only an area of special interest. Science certainly was a
thorough challenge, but that was partly due to my limited advanced math
background. I do think, in retrospect, that one should follow the areas of
interest first and then take the challenging fields in order to strengthen
discipline. In other words, I should have done the inverse, majoring in
history and minoring in chemistry -- though the latter was a superb
discipline. And my inability to quickly conquer it enhanced its mysterious
captivation.
Graduate School. When we completed the
undergraduate chemistry course in
1955, our small group that took classes and lab work together had become
good
friends. Seven of the group of eight decided to stick together and
continued
into the Xavier University Graduate Program. I acquired graduate credits
while in my senior year and thus could complete the course in one year and
two summers, while others took two years. Besides overseeing two sections
of
organic chemistry laboratory, I worked on my masters thesis under the very
knowledgeable, witty, and kind Professor Richard Garascia. The work was on
organic reagents for analytic work. The graduate students participated in
extra scientific meetings, such as a trip to Chicago and another to Yellow
Springs to hear Linus Pauling talk about Vitamin C as a cure for colds.
Also, several of us delivered papers at a meeting at Bowling Green
University in Ohio.
Reflection. Organic chemistry was a
rapidly exploding science during
the 1950s. Its techniques were in a pioneer stage and many of the synthetic
and analytic techniques eventually found their way into industry and
medicine, such as MRI imaging. Chemicals isolated or synthesized added to
the vastly growing treasure of knowledge. However, there were differences
between scientific accomplishments and commercial applications and popular
understanding of these discoveries. Organic as used in organic chemistry is
not the same as organic in "organic" gardening, which means using no
synthetic organic chemical pesticides or other agents. In the origins of
organic or carbon chemistry one finds the extraction of materials from
living
plants and animals. Many of these more interesting active substances were
isolated as compounds and later synthesized in the laboratories. Thus arises
countless pesticides and herbicides which would be the bane of later healthy
gardening. Organic gardening means being free of commercial organic -- and
inorganic -- chemicals. Ironically, one can both be a proponent of organic
chemistry in the scientific sense and organic gardening in the popular
sense.
Unfortunately, industry co-opted the academic field of chemistry for profit-
making enterprises. Thus, the environment and human beings were helped and
harmed by an overloaded commercial chemical environment. While my chemist
friends could have parted company, most supported my public interest
endeavors which has had to be quite critical of some of the presuppositions
within our scientific culture.
A Prayer to the God of Mystery. O God, some
would embrace different
scientific fields and become estranged from the realms of the Spirit. The
dichotomy for them is rigid and they part company from a spiritual journey
in
life. You know all things and created the world with its scientific
mysteries; these show your immense power and creativity. By delving into
the inner mysteries of the atom and chemical molecules -- the microcosm --
we
experience the greatness of your power and glory in ways not seen by
studying
the heavens. Draw us ever closer to the mysterious Earth beneath our feet.
Meanwhile, let us move forward on the road that has brought us to
where
we are. (Philippians 3:16)
Young people in the post-World War II era sought
independence through
the private automobile. For youngsters growing up on a farm the basic urge
to drive was alleviated through having a farm truck and tractor. These
allowed us to tool around our country roads without anyone ever asking for
licenses. Automobiles were different and were not driven by underage youth
without proper license. The next big step after driver's license was owning
a vehicle, which occurred for me in my college years. My first and only
personally owned vehicle was a green 1950 Oldsmobile, a single owner
vehicle,
which had been kept in excellent condition and which I used the last few
years of my undergraduate and graduate work. By the time of my entrance
into
the Society of Jesus, or more popularly known as Jesuits, this had become an
idol. The only worse trauma for drivers than losing ownership is being
forced to stop driving in later life.
The Highway adventures. I have driven
on all the Interstate highways in
America with about three exceptions and many of the U.S. highway routes.
Total driving distance approaches one million miles (as of this writing)
since my public interest science ministry began in 1970, and except for when
that Olds' brakes failed in 1956, there has been nothing beyond a few fender
benders, which were not unreported. I have pictured myself dying with my
boots on and perhaps at the gas pedal. With safer and higher speed
highways,
the travel time is cut and the private means of transportation is quite
appealing. Every time a heavy duty truck tail-gates me at 70 miles an hour,
I reflect on how fragile life is -- in a small economy car. Travel time
today is far shorter than in the 1950s, when we would drive over U.S.
highways, which went through main streets. The trip from North Carolina to
Maysville after taking Bob McDonald's girlfriend, Joan, back to her home in
Winston Salem, was a bone-crushing all day venture. It takes less than six
hours travel time now for what took twelve hours in 1955.
The Car: An Extension of Self. The auto culture
is deeply ingrained in
us. Touch someone's car and it is like a blow to the person. Remark about
the car in a disparaging manner and it is a major personal insult. This
auto
"person" must be fed precious resources, washed, cleaned, polished,
maintained and cared for with great attention. In turn, it pollutes and is
the reason for the decline and absence of available public transportation --
especially in rural Kentucky. Throughout my more conservation-conscious
driving career, I have abandoned the larger gas guzzlers, even when donated,
for the smaller -- but less safe -- fuel efficient ones.
Travel Too Far. Being a day's auto
travel time from half of America's
population makes Kentuckians biased to automotive travel. I have travelled
from Kentucky to New York, Central Florida, Milwaukee, Buffalo, Kansas City
and even Oklahoma City in a single day's travel, though these usually were
made starting very early in the morning -- the best time to travel.
However,
travel wear-and-tear has to be considered in any travel equation. Having
companions is better and safer unless a person becomes grumpy. The most
dangerous conditions involve individual driving and fooling oneself into
pressing on a little farther. With age and experience, I have found the
ten-
minute rest stops surpass caffeine, popcorn, radio music and open windows.
People today are more likely to confess excessive driving and road rage, but
-- on the other hand -- some people can get quite angry when a plane flight
has been canceled or a bus or train runs late.
Travel too Fast. Not only has there been
that incentive to travel far
but at speeds in excess of recommendation. I have been somewhat remiss when
it comes to limits, which can easily be exceeded without hardly noticing.
About once every three years a friendly policeman has pulled me over (in
Tennessee, Virginia, Washington, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, and Kentucky
(5 times), but in most of the instances I have been able to talk myself out
of the difficulties through extreme courtesy and utter simplicity. In some
cases the fines were levied and were paid when unforgiving computer systems
in other states notified Kentucky of the fines.
Travel too Often. I like to think of
myself as environmental, but the
amount of travel by private car must be explained. Quite a few times
advanced planning has permitted combining two or more trips into one and
saving considerably on total mileage. This has been the case of about half
the trips of over a hundred miles through my form of triangulation --
namely,
going from home base to point A and then to point B and then back home, thus
saving about a third of highway travel. Lately, trips have been saved
through conference calling and interactive work by letter or e-mail. I
persuaded conference organizers of the Ohio-based Rural Action, a group
promoting alternative agricultural techniques, to be changed into an
interactive Internet operation, saving about four thousand miles of driving
by a dozen participants.
Travel too Close. Within the travel
culture is the impulse to become
competitive and not follow, but get ahead of the driver up in front. But
jockeying for position can be risky in order to gain a mere hundred feet in
heavy traffic. Truck drivers, while generally courteous, still can pull
close behind and blow their loud horns. If we tapped the brakes even for
the
least reason we would be dead, as the monster truck rolls over the top of
us.
Hilly terrain adds to the danger for trucks wanting to speed on the decline
to have the momentum to carry them up the next incline. Added dangers occur
on rainy nights when trucks seem to negotiate the bad weather better than
many of us car drivers.
Travel too Stressful. One of my most
stressful trips was traveling
alone on a rainy night on the Pennsylvania Turnpike with speeding trucks in
front and behind. I felt like I was caught in a moving vise. Another
stressed-filled trip was in a non-air-conditioned car in mid-August during
rush hour on the Kennedy Expressway in Chicago. With time and proper
planning, one can normally avoid urban rush hours, but summer highways with
inevitable repair sections can prove daunting enough even in rural areas and
milder weather. Just anticipation of when and how one will arrive and
getting to the final destination has its own internal stress. Where will
one
park? Will the road be under repair or blocked by an accident? How much
traffic is out there? Rural patterns of driving make us ill-prepared for
the
attention demanded for rapid, congested urban traffic.
Travel too Real. The striving of people
to fill the window of vacation
opportunity with more and more travel may be a blessing or curse. Shouldn't
refraining from wanting to see the whole world with one's own eyes and
acceptance of virtual travel narrated by professions fill the bill? One may
watch travel films, read travel literature, or enter travel experiences by
videotapes or on the Internet. It is far less resource intensive, can be
reviewed again and again, and yet includes some of travel benefits without
the worry of luggage, passports and schedules. The Kingdom of Lions by
Jonathan Scott is a vivid narrative of the wild animals of central Africa.
It is astounding how these wild animals are intruded upon by crowds of
visitors with their tour buses and clicking cameras. Why not document these
places and experiences through professionals and then close areas to
tourists? This would have a far lower environmental impact.
Reflection: Insisting on personal travel by car
tells us something about
ourselves. But is this travel for personal pleasure or as a service for
others, for which we must be refreshed and on time? Likewise, how we credit
the fuel use (to the driver or the one served) makes an automotive energy
expenditure more complex but more realistic. If the answer is that we
travel
for others, then there is good reason that will allow for additional
driving.
But vehicle use consumes precious resources, takes time, is risky to self
and
others, and requires extra effort to earn the money needed for the travel.
Good ecology means that a variety of alternative modes could be explored
besides private auto travel, namely, conference calling, e-mailing, car-
pooling, walking, biking, and public transportation. Or should
we be
championing the solar electric car? The automotive culture has both good
and
bad points, and part of our on-going reflection is how much is too much and
when do we move about or communicate in a more resourceful manner.
Prayer for Proper Travel. O, Prime Mover of the
Universe, You move
mountains, tear down idols, and break the false attachments of our hearts.
We can't take vehicles to heaven or other places beyond. We are too much a
part of the culture which is in love with its vehicles. Forgive us for
adoring idols which remain hidden in the crevices, or parked on the carports
of our lives. Few idols fill the biblical and classical definitions better
than our autos. Break the grip that these have on our hearts, and bring us
closer to You.
The season of glad songs has come, the cooing of the
turtledove is heard
in our land. (Song of Songs 2:12)
The vocation to religious life is for many a springtime call, much
like
that of the Apostles who were out fishing and were called by Jesus who was
walking on the shore. It is a precious moment in a person's life. It
reminds me of the historic marker at Williams College in western
Massachusetts, which says that in the very early 1800s on that knoll, which
was at that time a hayfield, five young students took shelter in a haystack
during a very violent thunder storm. They vowed to start what was to become
the American Missionary Society. That storm made a definitive mark on those
youth, which they remembered and retold for the rest of their lives. The
apostles on the lake shore and the Williams students had calls which were
events. No definite event occurred in my life, as when St. Paul was thrown
from his horse, yet one can speak of vocations which emerge over time and
not
through definitive happenings. My springtime calling to the Society of
Jesus
was a pronounced process but not eventful. However, during a retreat at
Milford in the spring of 1956 I clearly was moved by the Spirit to sense its
authenticity.
Six Aspects of the Call. A number of factors were
converging in the post
World War II world of vast confidence in the power of industrial chemicals.
I considered myself a scientist but not a company one, and never ever
contemplated working in a laboratory for a commercial operation. In fact, I
always harbored deep suspicions of the profit-driven capitalistic system
from
youth. Besides this stance that drove me away from the world of industrial
chemistry, I think there were positive forces that confirmed my Jesuit
vocation.
1) Obeying the Divine Call -- The retreat I made at
Milford, Ohio during
my graduate year was solidifying my intent to follow the path to the Jesuits
and to be of service to others according to God's will. It would seem, if
that would be the case, I would prefer to work with the poor and in the
missions, which was something that was later fulfilled in my work in
Appalachia. Being of service to Christ did allow for a certain indifference
as to place and condition of future service, things that are far easier to
say are possible in springtime than to actually effect in summer.
2) Applying Learning to the Needs of Others
-- I gave a talk in the
Xavier Graduate School seminar in the spring of 1956 on recent applications
of chemistry to the needs of others. I listed the fertilizers and new
techniques of the then occurring Green Revolution, as well as plastics, new
medicines and other chemical marvels which all could be applied in the near
future to substantiate the Dupont Company's motto of that period -- Better
things for better living through chemistry. I think I inserted some
controversial subjects because we continued to discuss matters after the
seminar. In some ways this was my very first venture in public interest
science. About that time, I gave a talk, which included some of these
themes, to a Prayer Breakfast in my home town of Maysville. Some portions
of
this Lawrence Sauer, the fire chief, quoted back to me about forty years
later. I regarded this as a compliment.
3) Having Wholesome Associates-- I believe that
part of the success in
negotiating the different hurdles (psychological exams, references, etc.)
for
the Jesuits was the fact that at this time in life I did have a rather full
social life. We had a good group of Cincinnati friends who were quite
wholesome people and we enjoyed each other's company. In many ways their
solidity and support were in part what carried me through. Had they been
promiscuous or selfish or greedy in any fashion I would have had a far
harder
time. We golfed (the only time in my life), had parties, drank at the local
pubs, went to socials, took trips, and did what college students do with
wheels and our first real spending money.
4) Teaching High School and College Students
-- During my senior year
at Xavier (1954-55), I teamed with Paul Weinle, a fellow senior student/
friend, and we taught chemistry at St. Ursuline Academy while the regular
teacher was sick. I recall being challenged but not overly fond of my first
teaching experience. During the graduate year (1955-6) while working on my
Masters in Chemistry, I had two lab sections of the organic classes and
enjoyed this much more. The students were chemistry majors or pre-med and
pre-dent students, and all were very diligent. All in all, there was a call
to a life of service to others, and this was confirmed in the satisfaction
received through these courses.
5) The Challenge of Latin -- The Church in the
1950s was Latinized to the
full, both liturgically and within the training program. Without being
steeped in Latin it would have been impossible to proceed. I had three
years
in high school, but I was no Latin scholar in any sense of the word -- and
knew nothing of Greek. So Father John Wenzel, the Sodality moderator, gave
me a few books but I hardly opened them during that period of life.
6) Being Humorous -- It was always good to be
laughing, and the Cincinnati
people may be conservative, but they were also full of humor. We did have
habits of pulling practical jokes on others, sometimes doing things that
some
didn't appreciate. Once we placed someone's very light weight car behind
the
bushes at a house party and then watched when he wanted to go home and
couldn't find his car. It was only funny for us, not him. Another time
Paul
Weinle and I took all the glassware of the stockroom and on Xavier Family
Day
assembled a display of how to make artificial milk. Grass was placed at one
end and after many bubbling and colored solutions (by using the forced air
system) we had a container of milk at the far end. We asked folks to sample
and say whether it was better, equal to, or worse tasting than real cow's
milk. After dozens of taste tests we had to slip up to the window outside
the lab with another gallon of milk to replenish the depleted supply.
We
thoroughly enjoyed the way the military ROTC commanders would take the
sampling so seriously. That evening the University's publicity director was
hurrying down the drive and told me he was taking pictures of us with the
President to the press. I broke the news to him that it was a hoax and he
did not think it was funny.
Other Qualities. I think my ability to study and do
research for long
lengths of time and to finish assignments were all contributing to
fortifying
my future life's commitment. My prayer life was spotty, but I did frequent
the Sacraments on almost a daily basis while at college and had a strong
regard for the Society of Jesus. This was enough for one to enter religious
life in the 1950s, but I wonder if that applies a half century later. We
lived in simpler times in the 1950s -- but they were giving way to more
difficult times in the next decade. All of what was to come was mercifully
hidden from my eyes.
Reflections: Vocational
calls are throughout life. The pushes and
pulls of people and events mixed with the prayers of very devoted souls all
contribute to our choice of certain paths in life. How many of my good
relatives' prayers went heavenward, we will only know at a later time. We
simply don't know all the influences which make one go in a certain
direction, whether that be for good or bad. God works in mysterious ways.
That I can testify to and would like to leave it that way when it comes to
the mystery of my own calling.
A Prayer for Vocations -- O Great
Caller, help me to listen when called,
to recognize the source of the call, to respond quickly, and to follow
through as need be. Also help me to be another Eli to the Samuel's of the
world, to recognize that You are calling people to serve You, that You fill
the fields that are white for the harvest, and that You want us to be
sensitive to others, especially the spiritually tone deaf in our midst who
cannot distinguish their call from background noise. Help us to be gentle
with others, and be ready to recognize that the generosity of their hearts
exceeds the perceived unworthiness of their current actions.
Speak Yahweh, your servant is listening. (I Samuel 3:10b)
In the autumn of 1956 when the leaves were changing, and
the baseball
World Series was being followed by the construction workers on the chapel
right out our window, we were meditating on the Flight into Egypt. The
child
Jesus was riding with his mother over the sands of the Sinai amid bases
loaded and fly balls from the construction crew's radio. Though I was never
again interested in the World Series, I found the intrusive voice box a
major
distraction. The thirty-day retreat given by our Master of Novices, Bernard
Wernert, was a most heroic effort on his part to give attention to fifty
plus
novices. This 30-day retreat did allow break days between each of the four
weeks to converse, take hikes, get a short distance away, and relax.
Long Thirty-Day Retreat. I rode the roller-coaster
of emotions from the
higher levels of God's grandeur and glory in the First Week down through the
pits of my own missing the mark of seeing that glory, and back up again in
the Second Week to the captivating Mysteries in the life of Christ. As we
ascend to the Mount of Olives we prepare for the major plunge into the
depths
of compassionate sorrow on the way to the liturgical desolation of Calvary.
We end the mercifully short Third Week at the tomb and prepare for the final
week of rising with Jesus at Easter and the final upper of the Contemplation
for Attaining Divine Love. The four-week journey is an opportunity to purge
self of detachments which form road blocks in our service and it allows us
to
see the straight way to Jesus as companion on our journey in life. It is a
confirmation of important decisions.
A Composition of Place. One
of the first parts of a meditation as
evidenced in an Ignatian Retreat is the placing of one's mind on the
upcoming
scene. For those with better imaginations, who had traveled to or dreamed
of
traveling to the Holy Land, or who have seen such scenes in movies or art,
the setting may stand out more vividly. Such composition of place is
helpful
when we immerse ourselves in a life story or when we seek to enter into a
relationship with a person with whom we want to become more familiar. The
retreat is our introduction through biblical passages to the life of Jesus.
Ignatius was the pilgrim saint, traveling penniless on the road that took
him
to the Holy Land, starting late to become educated in the best schools of
Europe, and growing in the depths of mystical prayer. Ignatius understood
the practical purpose of formal prayer within the lives of Christians in
many
different circumstances. Down through the centuries millions have followed
this journey and method. More than a method of prayer, his is a method of
preparing oneself for coming to and being in the presence of God. A freedom
which depends on the unique calling of each person allows a wide variety of
approaches in divine conversation, which has vast promises of growth through
inspiration of others and conversation with a spiritual director.
The Life of Christ. Such a
lengthy retreat was my introduction to the
life of Jesus. This retreat was meant for the greater part to occur during
times of sustained silence and concentration. In such a general atmosphere
the Gospel words come alive. During that long retreat, I became familiar
with Jesus' life as revealed in Scriptures. For instance, in the ninth
chapter of St. John's Gospel on the blind man's cure one discovers the power
in Jesus' words. We see the response of a person who sacrifices
all to
follow Jesus, and the reluctance of parents and others to support him in his
own journey of faith. Through meditation, the individual characters in both
the Old and New Testament come to life, and we visualize the places and
cultural aspects of Jesus' life. A profound sense of peace is generally
experienced, which allows for ever greater resolution and desire to fully
serve Christ in the grand style of Ignatius and the nobles of the late
Middle
Ages. If I had not been such an anti-monarchist with little regard for
kings, queens, knights or pawns, these leadership qualities might have been
even more appealing.
Jesus, the Activist. With
time I saw Jesus in a different perspective
than in those days in 1956. Jesus emerged over time as an activist who
drove
the moneychangers from the Temple and yet was so perfectly balanced in his
own life -- showing mercy for those in need and going out to the poor and
the
sick. In due time, I took the cleansing of the Temple to be the prime
example of the Jesus that I was led to follow. Here was one who acted alone
(as we would have to in the public interest), through an authority of the
Spirit within (and we from the graces of our Baptism/Confirmation), in a
prophetic manner that was the focal place of power (public interest folks
have to be at the right place at the right time), and originating from a
justifiable anger about the special interests taking over the temple worship
commons, that was meant for all the people (a perfect comparison with the
over-commercialism of our age). The immediate result of this event in all
four gospels is the plotting to kill Jesus and cut short his powerful but
threatening ministry. We, too, run the risk of seeing our ministry defamed
or belittled as a result of being true to the inspiration of the Good
Spirit.
We, too, are called to be counter-cultural in every aspect of our lives.
Jesus, the Ecologist. I was once asked
for examples of Jesus and the
environment. Of course there were instances of birds of the air, flowers of
the field, good shepherds tending sheep and goats, light of the world, the
vine and caring for vineyards, fig trees, rocks, seashore, catching fish,
sowing seeds, calming of the waves, being with wild beasts in the desert,
concern about basic needs of the sick, donkeys and stables, and on and on.
But these minute glimpses into the life of Christ only showed his living
environment and manner of dealing with life's circumstances. A sound
ecology
is concerned about balances -- and Jesus balanced justifiable anger with the
tender mercy and the concern about people not being cared for and healed
(Matthew 21:12-16). To be able to have a sense of anger at wrongdoing and
what wrongdoers do and all the while to be compassionate and merciful
towards
those who are wronged requires divine balance. Jesus is the perfect model
for ecology without using the term in his discourses or in the Scriptures.
Group Discernment: Application of the fruits of
retreat come in our
outgoing service to others, in continuing to be faithful in our ministry and
in helping others come to some meaningful and prayerful discernment in their
own individual or collective lives. The discerning process on the part of
individuals has been a well-known focus of attention for many years. More
recently group discernment processes may include the practice of engaging a
facilitator or group spiritual director, who is somewhat neutral as to the
outcome of the goal of the process. The listing of all pros for a given
position (and with no critical discussion) is followed a second period of
prayer and the listing of all cons (likewise with no critical discussion).
The group returns to compare the two and this usually allows a consensus to
emerge, but like most human activities that is not automatic. It may be
helpful to narrow down the choices and then return to the same process a
second time or to at least allow the dissenting members to voice their
reasons, for guidance to the final decision-makers.
Reflection: Applications of the fruits of the
Spiritual Exercises go
beyond individual and group decision-making and actually centers on the
familiarity of the retreat participant with Jesus. The creating of
conditions for meditation includes overcoming those recurring distractions,
precious silence, and prayerful reflection. Listening to the God who speaks
to us is what is so needed today along with answering in the form of
discursive prayer. For us there is no ecumenism of spirits (good and evil)
as there is in ecumenism among religions. Today, people of different
spiritualities desire an equal place for evil spirits with good spirits --
and that is fraught with danger. In such a circumstance, evil spirits have
the chance to enter into the hearts and minds of wishy-washy people.
Instead
of such congregating of spiritualities, a clear journey through prayer and a
proper spiritual psychology, and through the assistance of one gifted in
spiritual direction leads to peace of soul and community.
Prayer: Dearest God, teach me to be generous;
teach me to serve you as you deserve;
to give and not to count the cost,
to fight and not to heed the wounds,
to toil and not to seek for rest,
to labor and not to ask for reward,
except to know that I am doing your will.
St. Ignatius of Loyola
Do all you can to preserve the unity of the Spirit by the peace that
binds you together. (Ephesians 4:3)
Around 1957, I was immersed in spiritual formation and
the traditional
Jesuit studies of the classics at Milford, Ohio. We were required to
communicate in our daily activities in Latin. This -- not rising at 5:00
a.m. or doing a variety of tasks throughout the day -- was the number one
hurdle in my novitiate experience. However, Dick O'Brien, a noted
enthusiast
of and later professor of linguistics at Georgetown University, had
perfected
a method of conversational interaction using Latin which was to make it
easier for us to become fluent. Some were far better adapted to using this
ancient and once worldwide language for ordinary daily commands and for
discussing weather, food and general affairs than I. Some of us would slip
off and lapse quickly into English.
American Latin. Our Latin words were
pronounced in pure American style
and the word order often followed English except among the most classically-
minded persons. Spoken Latin was a major undertaking, for we knew at that
time that we had to master it for learning philosophy and theology and for
oral examinations in that dreadful -- but for some, beautiful -- tongue. In
fact, I did get through two years of philosophy in Latin and the final exam
as well. After my oral exam the ethicist Fr. Kennedy said my Latin
suffered,
but I did have a few good German words and phrases. From my college days of
relishing philosophy I must vouch that the subject would have been far
easier
if basic courses were in English -- as they did become by the time I reached
theology. Rapid-speaking foreign students could swamp all but the most
gifted American teachers through their vernacularized Latin.
Classics. In my Juniorate year (1958-9), we
studied Greek epics and the
writings of Plato and Homer in English, and really enjoyed the ideas
discussed by persons of two to three millennia ago. Father Ed Hartmann
brought these ideas alive for us non-Greek scholars, and he was highly
successful -- for we looked forward to the discussions and even went beyond
the allotted evening periods. Plato's Republic is a valid springboard for
those of us who promote democratic principles and the need to involve a
concerned public in running our system of government. The classics allow us
to reason on our feet and encourage us to full citizen participation,
becoming keen observers and critics of the system and culture in which we
are
immersed. Far from tolerating classics I realize they are essential for a
liberal education. We must value the origins of thought and the long
history
of its development. Classics teach us to be true conservationists, that is
to conserve, respect and promote the treasures of the past as having meaning
into the future.
French and Other Languages. In the final months of
my novitiate in 1958,
we had a great summer learning French taught by a long-time friend, chain-
smoking enthusiast, Ed Miller. He came with immense energy, bundles of up-
to-date French reading matter, which I devoured for need of something beyond
a limited daily fare. While my ear was not attuned to my grandparents
proper
language, still I learned to read French with ease. A future scientific
French test proved a piece of cake. After dabbling in languages such as
German, French, Latin and Greek and some Spanish (on my own), it has become
apparent that we need a new universal language in much the same fashion that
Greek and Latin were languages of commerce and trade as well as culture for
centuries. Well into this century, the Hungarian Parliament still used
Latin, perhaps a holdover from the Austro-Hungarian Empire and the position
of Latin in the Holy Roman Empire. Latin remained the Church's language
until after Vatican II, and even had its last breath by a spirited letter
from John XXIII just before the vernacular shift.
Greek and Hebrew. We had a class in
biblical Greek, learning the
alphabet and using the Gospel of Mark for reading. From that course with Ed
Cincoski I have been able to draw on the expanded meaning of the words and
phrases to this day. Had we had time to cover the entire New Testament in
Greek it would have had immense pastoral implications. The older Jesuit
"long course" or a fuller curriculum of theology required Hebrew, whereas
our
modern long course allowed us to be subjected to some Hebrew words, phrases
and the Hebrew alphabet. The demands were going down by the time I came to
language studies. Modern seminarians are not required to have Greek or
Hebrew and only a passing knowledge, at best, of Latin. Many of the clergy
today have little knowledge of the three languages in which the sign above
Jesus' cross was written. It's all "Greek" to them now -- and in many ways
that is a loss for us all.
Reflections. After a series of experiments
in the novitiate which
included work at the Barrington Retreat House in Illinois, the inner city of
Cincinnati, the local Infirmary, and other such locations, we took our
religious vows at the Milford Chapel in early September, 1958. It was a day
when each made a commitment to Christ and prayed for grace and fidelity. On
that day we also received the biretta which was worn on rare occasions, but
was really a sign of the start of a scholar's life -- not that of clergyman
as such. The shift for most of us was from one part of the building to
another where the classics were taught. We could now call fellow Jesuits by
their first name, a practice that was extended even to novices at that
point.
The language studies were a prelude to more formal communication with others
who are eager to hear the word of God in their own lives. Our spirits
extended to those nameless people who we would serve in the future, even
though it would take much study time to prepare to minister to them. Yes,
full ministry was a decade away but the first streaks of dawn were
appearing.
Prayer to the All-Knowing God: O God, help us to
speak in a simple
manner to others in language that they can readily understand.
You visit the earth and water it, you load it with riches.
(Psalm 65:9)
Television was not part of my early years. Home
entertainment consisted
of games and reading -- activities now going out of fashion. In fact, we
have moved our information outlets more in the direction of the Internet and
television and, as a consequence, people do not read brochures, reports and
books as much as in the past. Add to this the conservative estimates of
illiteracy on the part of a million adults who live in central Appalachia.
Educated people seek to justify their intellectual life through watching a
Public Broadcasting System (PBS) television series or the history or
wildlife
channels. Reading is taking a back seat. Presently, I do not have access
to
television, but I observe that each time it is readily available my reading
time decreases.
Current Events. The juniorate was my
first bout with serious reading.
There I learned that the evening is a good time for catching up on general
reading. Newspapers and some periodicals can be perused in the crevices of
time that are made when breaks occur, while waiting in a doctor's office or
for events to start. Public transportation is a great place for still more
reading. My own scheduling calls for reading a book a week or so. I also
read a few periodicals carefully: one or other news weekly, Christian
Century, National Geographic, and the monthly HortIdeas (a compendium of
the
latest in horticulture research).
Speed Reading. Speed reading has its benefits.
While in the Novitiate
where novices were not allowed newspapers or secular periodicals I did get
news during the troublesome times of 1956-1958 (Hungarian uprising, Suez
Canal crisis, and the Presidential Election of 1956) by my own task while
taking care of Father Joe Kieffer in the infirmary. He was paralyzed on one
side and needed assisted care. I had the task of getting him up in the
morning, dressing him and assisting him to the bathroom for an intermission
of six minutes. In that time I was to make his bed, get hot water running,
straighten his room and arrange the newspaper. The latter was the key for
me
to proof what he'd read that day. Well read in between nursing tasks, I was
somewhat judicious in confiding the news to less well-read fellow novices,
for fear of losing my only outlet to the outside world.
Juniorate Reading. Those who entered later, after
graduate work, had an
abbreviated one-half to one-year classics course. My span was from
September, 1958 to August, 1959. This time for the classics proved an
opportunity for me. In some ways this was the most creative and refreshing
year of my life, for I was not on a degree course and so the theses and term
papers were not pressing, while still we could do some creative writing and
much reading. Here I tried to resolve to read a book a day -- but that
proved impossible over a length of time. Even one book a week proved quite
a task at various times. However, it was here that the resolution came to
devote free times in the mornings to writing and in the evenings to reading.
Reading Widely. Abe Lincoln said he never
read a novel. I have the
same dislike, but have read a few for assignments at various times in my
education. Fiction accounts for a very small fraction of my total books. I
can't stand science fiction, mainly because the real stuff is so much more
interesting when told creatively and in a language that lay folks can
understand. Living Earth: The Story of the Marvelous Abundance and
Complexity of Life within the Soil Beneath Us by Peter Farb (Harper &
Brothers, 1959) tells about termites in such a manner that any fiction
writer
would be hard-pressed to create an equal. While I have liked history, it
dawned on me that we only hear of the notable kings and queens and not of
lesser subjects who often lived far more interesting lives. More recent
historic research has tried to bring the lives of the obscure to the fore,
though it is hard work on the part of historians. Poetry is truly tonic for
the soul. Wildlife and nature writing are of utmost interest, such as
Peterson's Guides to natural phenomena. I also like books on food, health,
crafts, design, renewable energy, recreation, touring, and architecture.
Good theological and spiritual writings are a spice needed to keep us alive
and growing spiritually. I also like encyclopedias and books on facts and
statistics. Finally, biographies and testimonials tell so much about people
and why they are who they are.
Religious Reading. Sometimes
people ask if I have ever read the Bible
through from cover to cover. No, and that is mainly because I regard this
as
a sacred source book in which some portions should be read at given times
and
over and over; other passages perhaps read once during a lifetime. While I
have read through it all, I've never made this a goal or a record achieved.
As for religious writers we novices were required to read for a half hour on
most days a three-tome set by Rodriquez. This early Jesuit writer had a
three-tome work which was more monastic than what meets current Jesuit
tastes. Rodriquez as a book was not my cup of tea. After rereading twice
novices were allowed to move to other spiritual writings. Though I spent
more time reading from this author than any other, except perhaps David,
provided he was author or of the Psalms which are a substantial part of our
morning and evening prayers. Also, I have become acquainted with the
writings of the early church fathers, scholastics, popes and a variety of
spiritual writers.
Civil War History. For a
period of about two decades, I read every
book I could get my hands on about the Civil War, until I could at least
write a paragraph about every one of the fifty months of that war, or from
its start in 1861 to mid-1865. I know the great battle sites and have
visited about half of them from the two Bull Runs to Antietam to as far west
as the Arkansas battlefields. Some may ask why I had a sympathy for the
south being from a divided state and with a strong pro-civil rights stance.
The justification was certainly not philosophy (I have always hated
slavery),
but I did think it was possible to have abolished the "peculiar institution"
without such a drastic and costly war. Also, I always like underdogs, and
the South was in that category. Sympathy changed with time because I knew
in
my heart I could never have been a Confederate. I considered Fort Sumter in
April,1861 to Fredericksburg in December,1862 as an even fight, but then
things worsened to the horrors of the Gettysburg aftermath, the Wilderness,
the March to the Sea, and the final surrenders. After battle history I
moved
to the life of Abraham Lincoln and read a dozen books on his life. My hope
was to write something on his Kentucky years but found too much myth and
hearsay. I dreamed of writing a supposed diary of Lincoln following him
daily through the war years -- but that was only a dream.
Browsing. This is wonderful recreation
when time permits, especially
and in the vicinity of a library or a bookstore. Who knows what one will
find? The Internet has the great advantage of being able to be browsed, but
not in the hands-on manner of a book store or library. Half or more of the
good stuff that I have found and retained was initiated through bookshelf
browsing -- and was unexpected. The book, Silicon Snake Oil makes this a
major point as well in discussing the disadvantages of commuter-obtained
information.
E-mail. I leave this for last because this rapid
form of communication
has been a bane to me. I hate this supposed communication except for
reaching
foreign friends. "Chatting" is a tedious occupation except when driving a
car or killing time -- but even that can be better spent reading, thinking,
praying or listening to records. Besides, I find chatting folks a pain. I
calculated the time it took for our salaried staff to scan, select, print
and
return meaningful e-mail. I found that the cost for a year was $2,500 and
we
only had about five communications that phoning and letters had not covered
and were regarded as essential. The venture is costly.
Reflections: When eyesight allows for reading,
browsing, and note
taking, we have a certain blessing. What could be done without beloved
books, even for those of us who do not regard ourselves as bookworms? I
don't read something because it makes a conversation piece or to impress a
well-read person. While I find such socializing goals as foreign, I enjoy
telling serious readers about a recently read book -- and hear about their
readings as well -- provided they are not novels. Appalachian stories are
far better than novels and more incredible -- if one risks putting them into
print. All the more, the use of these stories have been made with profit
when there is also an environmental message to tell about our region.
Prayer to the Word. O Word of life,
You were there before the making
of the heavens and Earth. Sacred words are a testimonial to your loving
presence, your striving to break into our cluttered world. The procession
of
written word from experience of a writer, to understanding as a reader, and
then into action by a doer is a faint glimmer of the Trinitarian pattern at
work in our world.
