Uphill idealist

I can't tell you how many times I've thought about the following quote by Dr. M.L. King... "I have a dream that my four little children will oneday live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skinbut by the content of their character." When I was in sixth grade I was chosen to recite this well-known quote in for a musical that we were performing at my school called, "Kids for America". While I was excited about the singing and dancing and having a chance to have a speaking part in the play, this quote rattle around my young mind in a way that no other words had before. I grew up in a tiny town in western Pennsylvania and the community was lily white. There was no racial diversity to see or speak of. The only significant differences I recognized were religious ones, and this only happened because the kids who were Catholic were dismissed early on Fridays so they could attend  Catechism Class. From my perspective I could not un

When one hears about food being thrown around, we often think back to elementary or middle school food fights. You would probably agree that food fights are wasteful, messy and ridiculous. This is not the kind of food throwing that I refer to. Several years ago, I read a story about two communities of Christians that were separated by to very high wall. The wall was too high to see over, but one day a person walked by the wall and heard a familiar hymn being sung. The music lofted over the wall and the person realized that even though there was a wall between the groups that they had something in common - their faith in Jesus Christ. The person was so excited about hearing the people on the other side of the wall singing and worshiping, that he gathered some friends from his church and went to listen for sounds of their worship. As they had hoped, they heard the singing and joined in singing with them. Even with the wall between them, the two groups of Christians were united in s

Chowder, in its Western-New-York unique way, is something simple and wonderful. In the parish I serve, chowder is a part of the monthly community ritual that has come down from generation to generation to do what chowder does best - feed the hungry and connect people. While it may not be surprising for those that know me, but I love to connect with people AND I love food. So earlier tonight, when I was invited to stay for a bowl of chowder at a church member's home - I was delighted and the recipient of a lovely blessing. The chowder was wonderful. The carrots, potatoes, celery and corn danced in a tomato broth with tender pieces of chicken and beef dancing around my spoon. I heard about the origin of the recipe for this "chowder", I met some of the family's extended members, I learned how chowder was and is woven into the humble but persistent culture of feeding people with food and friendship. The space this chowder dinner created allowed all around the table