Appeared in print February 18, 2012

by Michael Smith

     I looked up at the mountains in the distance.  They were white now.

Not long ago, they were brown.

     In the time I've lived in Idaho, I've had the opportunity to watch the

cycle of seasons make their change on those mountains I never tire of

seeing.

     My first sight of them came in September of 2008.  The sides of the

mountains were painted green with the leaves of sagebrush.  Near the top

were pines.  The days moved on.  The weather cooled and the rain didn't

fall.  The leaves browned.  The mountain changed.

     Fall gave way to winter.  I stood in the rain and watched the top of

the mountains turn a blinding white.  Each week the snow crept further down

the slopes and long before the first snows fell in the valley, the

mountains were covered with fresh powder.  The sun set, the lights on the

ski slopes lit the side of the mountains a dazzling white.  I'm not a

skier, but I imagined the excitement of speeding down the side of those

mountains — free, fast, and thrilled.

     Winter turned to spring.  The snow in the valley disappeared and made

its retreat up the slopes until it was gone once again.  The weeks passed,

the green in the valley flowed steadily up the slopes like a reversed

waterfall.  The mountains were as I first saw them, green and lush.

     On New Years Eve, the mountains were white again.  On New Years Day

they were peppered with the dark dots of the distance skiers as they

daringly fall down their slopes.

     I saw so many changes, but were they really changes?  The mountains are

never changing.  Like people, they only changed coats to fit the weather.  They

didn't allow outside influences to alter what lie beneath their coats of

changing colors.  They were always the same.  You can have faith in them.

     I'm in my third season of life.  A little snow has gathered at my

peak.  Some of the sagebrush is gone all together.  My clothing has

changed to fit my seasons.  Next year, and during all my years to follow, I want to

be as constant as a mountain.  Beneath all the changing colors, I want at my core

an integrity that defines the real me.  Who I truly am will never change. 

     Although my looks change, I want to be reliable.  My body will change

coats many times, but when my day is done, I want people to say, "No matter

what the seasons of life brought, he never changed inside.  He never

allowed the pressures of the seasons or the weathers of life to change what

he was underneath.  He was a mountain you could rely on to watch over those

who looked up to him."

     For this New Year and all the New Years that I have left, whether it

is at my job, at home, or with friends and family, I want to be a mountain

– reliable.

Michael T. Smith lives in Caldwell, Idaho with his wonderful wife Ginny. He writes in his spare time and is completing a collection of his stories to be called, From My Heart to Yours.

Appeared in print  Feb. 11, 2012

by Dr. C. Forrest McDowell

Comedian Bob Hope once quipped: If you lack charity of the heart you have the worst form of heart disease. The present societal and environmental inequities demonstrate that the world is in need of a new-found balance between heartfelt giving and conscientious getting. Somehow, we all must re-OCCUPY the beneficent qualities of the heart.

At the core of a charitable heart is unconditional generosity and compassion. This heart hears and feels the ills and woes of the world and works hard to give grace and be of service. Consequently, the sincerity of the act of giving becomes more important than money, identity, pride, or rewards.

Giving should never feel like being left with less. We are each born with gifts worthy of sharing and freely giving away. It is never a matter of the glass being half full or half empty. In truth, the glass is always full of potential; and that is the feeling of a generous spirit. St. Augustine's words remind us:

Determine what God has given you, and take from it what you need; the remainder is needed by others.

As a youth I quickly became aware of certain abilities, especially writing and music. These, and a deep love of nature, have always served me well in both good and hard times. I don't take such “God-given” gifts for granted — I need to share their fruits with others, continuing to find unique ways to be charitable.

Our family business incorporates an ethic of philanthropy. For example, since 1998, we have donated over a million dollars worth of our self-published gardening guides to needy individuals and families throughout North America. By choosing to “live simply so that others may simply live”, we daily experience the joy of generosity.

For over 30 years, the chalice of my charitable heart has been refilled daily by two passions: devotion to deep meditation and prayer, and living by a Cortesian philosophy of reverence for life. Meditation and prayer brings me to the still well of a Great Spirit or God that perhaps lies at the core of life, inspiration and creation. Reverence allows me to celebrate and ennoble life — to offer personal gifts of compassion, wisdom, intelligence, joy, awe and wonder, beauty, peace and love fully and freely without conditions.

What are those gifts life has given you? Always remember that you are a gift to life, too. In that sense you can always find something special about yourself to generously share with another.

Eugene's great distant runner, Steve Prefontaine once said: To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift. Have you created space in your life that enriches others with your gifts? It is never too late to let your charitable heart reach out and give its best.

Otherwise, as Bob Hope cautions, you may suffer from the worst form of heart disease.

Dr. C. Forrest McDowell is co-steward of the beautiful 22-acre Cortesia Sanctuary in Eugene, Oregon.  This column is coordinated by the Lane Interfaith Alliance to offer inspiration, share personal spiritual experiences and bring a deeper understanding of individual faith perspectives. For information about submitting an article, visit www.laneinterfaithalliance.org or call 541-747-3887.

Appeared in print on February 4, 2012

by Mary Sharon Moore

“I wish I could have baked more loaves,” I said to my classmate Mike as I delivered sixteen loaves of fresh baked bread to the van.

“This is perfect,” he said. “We just happen to have sixteen food boxes.”

Once a quarter several of my theology grad school classmates would load up the old VW van with food, clothing, medicines, and first aid and other supplies, and lumber down I-5 to the garbage dumps of Tijuana, where young children scavenged each day for food. I never went along. I lacked the courage to expose myself to the shock of such raw human suffering.

So I contributed what I could. In the tiny kitchen of my studio apartment I’d mix and knead and raise and roll out bread dough as fast as I could. Sometimes I produced eight loaves, sometimes twelve. My little oven heaved and hissed with all the activity. I knew well that no matter how many loaves I baked, it could never be enough. Still, I recalled the young boy who offered up his five barley loaves and two fish for Jesus’ feeding of the five thousand. Miraculously, the story goes, everyone ate as much as they wanted, with twelve wicker baskets filled with leftovers.

Known throughout the school as “the bread maker,” late each afternoon I would carry from my oven to the school chapel a fresh warm round of whole-wheat eucharist bread, dense and dark and chewy, thick enough to remind each of us gathered around the Table of the Lord that we were eating real food, real spiritual food, the bread which is no longer merely bread but our world’s living Peace.

The word “eucharist” comes from the Greek eucharistia, meaning gratitude—specifically, gratitude for God’s generosity in the life, death, and resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and for the outpouring of his Holy Spirit upon the Christian community. Eucharist is the ritual, liturgical expression of true communio—the divine-human indwelling, the lifelong peace-meal experience which feeds and strengthens the Christian community to be the living presence of the risen Christ in today’s world. Eucharist is the celebration of the peace of the risen Lord Jesus, a peace that the world cannot give.

With that dense, dark, warm and fragrant eucharist bread we had to mindfully chew a good long while on what we were eating, remembering too the words of St. Augustine: “Become what you eat: the Body of Christ.”

Today, as I approach the Table of the Lord, I imagine that I am carrying a large wicker basket ready to be filled with small fragrant loaves. And, I imagine, if any small loaf should remain from the previous week, the Lord Jesus himself would hold up that lonely loaf, look me in the eye, and say with a saddened heart, “Oh, look, someone wasn’t fed.”

In my own life I clearly understand: If I am to bring peace to my world, it all starts at this holy meal, the Eucharist of the Lord.

Mary Sharon Moore, author of Touching the Reign of God: Bringing theological reflection to daily life and director of Awakening Vocations, is a member of St. Thomas More University Parish in Eugene. 

By the Lane Interfaith Alliance

Appeared in print January 28, 2012

For the past five years, the Lane Interfaith Alliance has helped to promote the Season for Nonviolence, which is a worldwide celebration of alternatives to confrontation and conflict.  Beginning January 30 and lasting through April 4, the Season is bracketed by the anniversaries of the assassinations of Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr.

We believe that the principles of nonviolence express values shared by all faiths; namely, the intrinsic value of every human life, and the ultimate interconnectedness of all life. We see in the practice of nonviolence a means by which different spiritual traditions can find common ground on which to stand in communion with each other.

Nonviolence is often defined more in terms of what’s missing than of what’s happening. Some see nonviolence as only a lack of conflict or a temporary suspension of hostility. Peace from this perspective may be an exception to the rule of violence, but violence still defines the parameters of peace.

Other languages than English suggest a more comprehensive understanding of peace. Both the Arabic salaam and the Hebrew shalom and derive from root words meaning wholeness, completeness, a harmony of opposites. Peace so defined means not the mere absence of violence, but the presence of a sense of connection even with those with whom we disagree.  It suggests that no one of us can be truly whole unless we recognize the wholeness, and holiness, of each other.

Non-violence is also rooted in the recognition that those who seek to hurt us are themselves often hurting. It’s easy to project our pain onto those who oppose us; what non-violence can teach us is that which we truly fear often lies not outside the barred window but inside the mirror.  Nonviolent behavior begins with the recognition that we can control not what happens to us but only how we choose to respond to what happens.

 A fundamental principle of nonviolence states that all parties to a conflict possess a share of the truth, and that the goal is not to have one truth triumph over another, but rather that each truth help illuminate another. Non-violence looks for safe ways to express anger and other emotions, and works at solving problems peacefully by encouraging communication and cooperation in all endeavors.

Nonviolent living begins at home and is best expressed where and with whom we live. For this reason, the Season hopes to highlight those activities and events that focus on personal compassion and social responsibility toward one another. The programs espoused this Season seek to create an awareness of nonviolent principles and practice as a powerful way to heal, transform and empower people’s lives and communities.

The opening event for this year’s season takes place this Monday, January 30, 7 PM at Temple Beth Israel, 29^th & University in Eugene. Rev. Dan Bryant will speak, and Dr. Veena Howard will discuss the principles of nonviolence as practiced by Mahatma Gandhi. Small group discussions will help us learn how to translate these principles into guidelines for our daily lives.

This column is coordinated by the Lane InterfaithAlliance to offer inspiration, share personal spiritual experiences and bring a deeper understanding of individual faith perspectives. For information about submitting an article, visit www.laneinterfaithalliance.org or call 541-747-3887.

Appeared in print on January 21, 2012

By Shirley Collins

Artistic growth, for me, is the willingness to be open to all creative possibilities. I continually challenge myself by not letting old perceptions get in the way of new ways of being. Capturing the Spirit, the essence, the heart of a moment in time, provides the images and words for me to share myself with my fellow human beings. The core of my creative belief is that Spirit guides the result.

As an artist specializing in photography, I have always felt that the best photographic images were those that were able to in some way communicate the Spirit of which each of us is a unique, individual expression. In my photographs I seek to awaken that sense of communion with the All. It is my joy to strike an inner chord of remembrance, in each person who views my photography and reads my prose, that all of nature is One.  

    There is a difference, I think, between a simple picture and a true photograph. A picture is a mere reflection of the surface of something. A true photograph is an image with soul; an expression of the essence of the image, which also involves the viewer in making that essence come alive. That’s why I seek as subjects of my photographs those images that speak to something essential in all of us.

Recently I have had exhibitions of my photographs of water in its many different forms; as waves, waterfalls, pools, rivers, and raindrops. Water inspires us, revives our energy and renews our spirit with a passion for life. Then too, water seems the perfect expression of Spirit – it is fluid, conforming to the contours of whatever holds it, and it is everywhere, in a wide variety of expressions, including much of the human body.

Once on a trip to Yosemite with a close friend, I paused by the Merced River and was captivated by the reflection of Half-Dome in the water. The contrast of solid granite within a fluid medium was such a striking harmony of opposites that excitedly I pointed it out to my friend, who herself was an accomplished photographer. She, however, saw only the water and not the reflection. I realized that that particular expression of Spirit was meant for me only, for it was my perception of this beauty that brought it to life. I remembered then a retreat where my teacher urged us to “walk around very slowly until you are ‘told’ to stop. Something will be there that only you were intended to see.”

I know that Spirit is moving in me when I look at a waterfall and see faces forming within the misty turbulence. These faces are not simply mental projections but arise from the flow of the water into the flow of my sight and together we express the Spirit that is the essence of us both. These are the magic moments, when capturing these soul images, that I know I have become a vehicle for the Divine that is forever flowing through us all.

Shirley Collins is an artist and writer living in the Eugene area. She is a member of the Lane Arts Council, Maude Kerns Art Center, and a charter member of the National Museum of Women in the Arts in Washington, D.C. This column is coordinated by the Lane Interfaith Alliance to offer inspiration, share personal spiritual experiences and bring a deeper understanding of individual faith perspectives. For information about submitting an article, visit www.laneinterfaithalliance.org or call 541-747-3887.

By Rick Durka

My name is Rick and my family and I are currently homeless. We live in a van, but we wouldn't have it if it weren't for blessings from total strangers.

You see, I sell paper subscriptions outside some of the stores in Lane County and while at work on different occasions before Christmas, total strangers have blessed me and my family.

One day while I was having a bad sale day at work, someone asked what was wrong and, being who I am, I told the truth. I said, “Me and the family have a chance to get a conversion van to live in, but my wife just lost her unemployment and my income isn't much, so we can’t get the van now." This guy said, “No problem. I'll give you the money so you guys can get the van to live in.” We still owe monthly payments of 100 bucks for nine months, but it’s such a blessing.

Then my cousin who I haven't seen in 23 years said we could put the van at his house and plug it in. Another blessing!

On a couple of occasions I’ve had no money to get to work and people I didn’t know gave me the money.

Last month someone broke into our little truck and stole our winter clothes. It hurt a lot. We were cold and used up our free vouchers at the thrift stores. People I didn't know brought us sleeping bags, long johns and a jacket. A lady in Creswell offered me an electric blanket and my wife and I use this nightly. What a great day it was to be warm again.

Being homeless is tough. Being clean and sober is hard too. I’ve strived to do the right things for the right reasons and I'm the type of man who counts his blessings daily. I love the Lord and share that with others. So when an angel dressed in real clothes gives me and my family our daily need, my heart gets warmed up and I smile inside and out.

I was going to start school to cut hair so I can have a career instead of this commission job, but again no money to pay the enrollment fees. And can you imagine what happened today? Someone who doesn't owe me a dime said, “Come by and I’ll give you the hundred bucks so you can start school and better yourself.”

I wish the van were paid for and I had a house and a truck that's not breaking down weekly, but the truth of the matter is I’ve learned to appreciate everything I have, including this life. There are lots of people who have helped me and if this testimony sounds familiar, then you might have been drawn to help me and the family. We really want to thank all the angels who helped us out this year. God puts his helpers all over and I want to say thanks to all those who really do help those in need.

Rick Dutra and family live in the Eugene area. This column is coordinated by the Lane Interfaith Alliance to offer inspiration, share personal spiritual experiences and bring a deeper understanding of individual faith perspectives. For information about submitting an article, visit www.laneinterfaithalliance.org or call 541-747-3887.

Appeared in print: January 7, 2012

Appeared in print Saturday, December 31, 2011