The Death of 5 Amish Children

On May 13, 1993, five Amish children were killed by a speeding auto near Fredericksburg, Ohio. The auto was driven by a young man, Eric Bache, who showed no remorse for his action in the days that followed. After the funeral, an elder of the community, Henry Burkholder, said: "We could take it a lot easier if he would feel sorry. It's a little harder to forgive since he doesn't seem upset. But we have to forgive him. And we will."

Source: Henry Burkholder - Elder of the Amish Community in Fredericksburg, Ohio, quoted by the New York Times, 17 May 1993, as reported in Peter Schmiechen's "Christ the Reconciler: A Theology for Opposites, Differences, and Enemies", p. 112

Thesis 10 (Not Martin Luther's)

Thesis 10) Imagination and conversion are the very heart and soul of reconciliation.
Reconciliation is about learning to live by a new imagination … That is why the work of reconciliation is sustained more through storytelling and apprenticeship than by training in techniques and how-tos. Through friendship with God, the stories of scriptures and faithful lives, and learning the virtues and daily practices those stories communicate, reconciliation becomes an ordinary, everyday pattern of life for Christians.

Source: Emmanuel Katongole & Chris Rice - Reconciling All Things, p. 151

Father Martin McGill

“It was during this time that the then-Bishop (Cahal) Daly, now Cardinal Daly, introduced me to a diocesan priest, Father Martin McGill, saying ‘You two should have something in common,’ because of our joint interest in ecumenism. Martin and I immediately clicked – we shared a common vision – and after the synod we continued to meet and pray for peace and reconciliation,” he said.

“I became convinced that God was calling me to work in Northern Ireland, but it took two years to convince everyone else – they say that the test of a true vocation is opposition and patience,” added Father Symonds.

In 1999, Father Symonds moved to Belfast and joined the Columbanus Community of Reconciliation, where three Protestants and three Catholics lived together in an interchurch community.

Source: Catholic Review - "English priest receives awards for work in Northern Ireland", 5 Jan 2008, http://www.catholicreview.org/article/faith/vocations/english-priest-receives-award-for-work-in-northern-ireland

"More Relevant"

Bishop Daly had discerned that a qualification in ecumenism was “more relevant to the situation” that Martin would be facing back as a newly-ordained priest in divided Belfast than the two year licence in Biblical theology that he had set his heart on, partly because he had grown to love Rome and the Irish College.

Source: Martin O'Brien - "A Quiet Peacemaker", The Irish Catholic, 11 Dec 2014, http://www.irishcatholic.ie/article/quiet-peacemaker

Fr. Paul Symonds

As well as enjoying good relations with the Church of Ireland (Anglican), Methodist and Presbyterian ministers in Ballymena, Father Symonds has worked closely with Protestants found guilty of sectarian attacks. ... "If you had told me when I was being ordained that I would be working with former loyalist prisoners, I would have thought that I would have been disastrous," he said.

Source: Fr. Paul Symonds - As quoted by the Catholic Review in "English priest receives awards for work in Northern Ireland", 5 Jan 2008, http://www.catholicreview.org/article/faith/vocations/english-priest-receives-award-for-work-in-northern-ireland

Hanna's Story

My name is Hanna Zack Miley. My father’s name is Markus Zack. My mother, Amalie Zack, was his second wife. For the last 73 years of my life, I have not seen my father. I could not embrace him. The only material object that I could touch, and physically connect with him was the gravestone of his first wife located in the Jewish cemetery in Gemünd. On June 23, 2013, that changed.

When I first laid my fingers on the smooth granite that my father certainly touched decades earlier, it was early in my journey towards forgiveness and reconciliation. Rightly would my father and mother have also had gravestones in the Gemünd cemetery. But they had no gravestones at all. They were Jews in Nazi Germany.

In the winter of 1938, our little family of three moved from Gemünd to Cologne. I am not sure if we left under duress or voluntarily, looking for anonymity in a big city.

In Cologne my parents saved my life by placing me on the Kindertransport, number 8,814 of 10,000 Jewish children allowed to leave Germany. In 1942, they too left Cologne on a train – but not one bound for Great Britain, where mine had taken me. They went to the Jewish ghetto in Lodz, Poland. Unknown to its inhabitants, this ghetto was only a stage in their eventual extermination. Markus and Amalie Zack were gassed to death in nearby Chelmo. There was no gravestone. There was no grave. Their bodies were unloaded into a pit, only to later be dug up and burned. Their ashes scattered in the forest fulfilled the chilling promise that, “The Jews will make good fertilizer.”

Now it is June 23, 2013. I am on the stage of the Kurpark Hall in Gemünd. Four hundred Germans in the hall are celebrating the opening ceremony for the 800th anniversary of the founding of their home town. I am anticipating something special, because they have asked me to stand with my husband George as F. A. Heinen, a local journalist, walks towards us holding in his hands a wrapped, rectangular object.

On this Sunday afternoon, I have already been recognized as the patron of this meaningful celebration. I have already seen the only known photograph of my father projected on to a large screen – the camera capturing a moment of dignity before the Jews were ejected from Gemünd. I have already heard a German high school student read his name aloud, in honor rather than in horror. I have imagined tracing his name carved into his Stolpersteine, a brass paving stone that will be laid in front of his house, our house, on the main street of Gemünd, so that any passerby who stoops or kneels can read, “Died, May 3 1942, Chelmno.”

George and I stand on the stage, the wrapping paper is whisked away from the mysterious object and F. A. Heinen, a big burly man, cannot hold back his beaming smile as he hands me a framed document. What is it? Heinen is the author of numerous books detailing the history of the region under National Socialism, and in his research sifting through the district’s archives, he discovered a document, a rental agreement for one of the many pieces of land my father owned in the area.

My father’s signature jumps towards me as I look down at the copy of the document.

A signature uniquely represents the person. I already possess a poem my mother quoted when her pen touched the page in the autograph book belonging to Ruth, a fellow Jewish survivor from Gemünd. Eight years ago Ruth tore out the page and gave me the poem with my mother’s actual signature. Now it has been joined by this flowing script displaying my father’s identity. His hand is strong, the lines firm and confident. I am lost in wonder as I consider the late-in-life gift of a second material connection to my father.

I think about the courage of the local group, composed of students, teachers, business people, retired citizens, government officials and the Roman Catholic and Lutheran churches. They have researched and planned for months to honor the former Jewish citizens of Gemünd by placing their story at the center of the 800th anniversary. I think about the pain they must have experienced digging down into the evil of their own story, and I marvel at God’s mercy, that He would visit Gemünd with such healing mercy. Just moments before, I had read in German my carefully prepared speech to the citizens of the home town which expelled me as a seven year old girl. Holding my father’s document, the words I had spoken now take on deeper significance:

I am here representing the silenced Jews. For many years, there was a veil of silence, but in the last few years there has been a willingness to learn the truth about the past. I believe that the celebration today and the laying of the eleven Stolpersteine are public acknowledgements of the wrongs done by our ancestors. When such acts of repentance take place, they open the way for God’s healing, forgiveness and redemption. The darkness and evils of the past can be washed away, and we as citizens can stand upright, free from our burdens of the past.

As I consider the approaching anniversary of the Reformation and the commemoration through Wittenberg 2017 I believe there are valuable connections between the laying of the Stolpersteine and healing the wounds of division that have persisted throughout church history as well as other historical “spaltung” (division). Below are a few principles for reconciliation to consider.

The descendants of those bearing the guilt of past wrongs must take the initiative and lead in acts of repentance.
We who are the descendants of those who have been sinned against are uniquely placed to pray for the hearts of those who have wronged us. The love of God melts hard hearts. We must ask God for the miraculous gift of forgiveness.
A significant part of the story is personal relationships. The Lord led us to individuals from Gemünd's past and present and gifted us with deep, healing friendships.
Through 13 years of intercession there were many discouragements and failures but we slowly learned God's way of doing things. Now we stand awed by God's mercy.

Source: Wittenberg 2017 - "Hannas Story", from the Wittenberg 2017 (US) website
http://www.wittenberg2017.us/hannas-story.html

Jimmy Carter

One Sunday when I was traveling, our deacons at our Plains Baptist Church (where I was a member and a deacon) voted not to admit any African American worshipers into the building. I came home for a church conference, and I made a speech about how we should let them come into God's house. My family and one other, six people, voted to integrate the church and let black people come in and worship at least. All the rest of them voted against it. But almost 100 people didn't vote. That was the first time I saw we really had a breakthrough. The majority of the members who were in conference agreed with me, although they wouldn't vote with me.

Source: Jimmy Carter - Christianity Today, October 2016, "Jimmy Carter: Pursuing an Arc of Reconciliation", pp. 66-69

Verena's Story

My name is Verena Lang. I live in Austria. My journey to reconciliation has been long and arduous. How could it not be when you have to confront the history that I have? A history that includes confusing and condemning messages about God and the church. A history where I had to confront the fact that my father was a leading Nazi during World War II. A history where I was led to enter into the pain of my Jewish friends who lost loved ones in the Holocaust. A history that now leads me to be involved in the work of reconciliation between Catholics, Protestants and Free churches.

I was born in Salzburg in 1944. My faith journey began with a confusing, inaccurate, and limited view of God. My father was a Catholic and my mother was a Protestant. Both of my parents left the church before my birth. Therefore I was not baptized as a child. My parents told me that I could choose any denomination that I wanted. From my mother I was told that in the Old Testament you find cruel stories of an angry God. From my father I was told that Jesus was a good man but he is not God and was not a Jew.

When I attended high school I was part of a class with Protestant girls. I often say they put all us heretics together, because Austria, at that time, was 80% Catholic. Due to the Counter Reformation, Protestants were said to be heretics in Austria. To spend time with my Protestant girlfriends helped me to eliminate any fear of contact with Protestants or members of Free churches.

It is interesting that in my schooling I was drawn to study history, culminating in a PHD in the subject. The historical period I was most drawn to was the period between World War I and World War II. This was the period where my father was involved in the politics of Austria. There is a character in James Joyce’s novel, Ulysses, that states: “History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.” These words resonate with me and my story. I had a lot of “awakening” to do, personally and spiritually.

​Following the end of World War II, Austria, like Germany, was divided into four parts (one part each ruled by the Americans, the British, the French, and the Russians). I was brought up in the zone occupied by the Americans. As a child we were told all Nazis were criminals. How do you reconcile this when your father was a Nazi? How do you live with a deep love for your father and at the same time live in a society that tells you he is a criminal? These questions were too painful to confront. So I hid the story of my father being a leading Nazi. Yet, amidst the hiding, I was always searching for the truth. My study of history helped me to further “awakenings” even after the death of my father. We can feel imprisoned by history, but we can also be liberated through studying and engaging with history.

Following my studies, my husband and I moved to Wieselburg, a little town in the east of Austria. At that time I was asked to sing in the masses of the Catholic Church. I did this also in Salzburg in the Protestant Church because I liked to sing. After eight years of singing in the Catholic Church in Wieselburg, a surprising event took place. It happened on a Holy Thursday. I was not in a crisis at the time, nor was I seeking after God. Yet God touched my heart with the words of the liturgy: “Do this in remembrance of me.” These words, along with God touching my heart, were the beginning of a profound conversion where I received deep healing over several years.

When I surrendered my life to God it was as if he took an eraser to eliminate all the negative and condemning thoughts that I had accumulated from my parents as a child -- all the bad thoughts, all the lies about Jews, all the conflicting words about God. I received a lot of love from Jesus and was healed from anxiety about death. Today I am fully awake to all the healing I experienced and know that my healing has been a gift from God to help me endure what was to come.

After some years I fell into a big crisis. Deep feelings, that I had long suppressed, came out as sadness and anger. I felt I had to finally confront all the evil things that took place during Nazi rule and the involvement of my father. This proved to be a time of purification and a time for me to mature in my Christian life.

It took me a decade until I could come to the decision: I will forgive my father. Later, still, I came to forgive my mother (who I had learned had abandoned me for a period as a child). The power of forgiveness freed me from a tremendous amount of pain I had been living with. When I said to God: “I forgive my mother for leaving me because she did not know what she was doing,” I was healed from 45 years of chronic back pain.

God continued to lead me into expanding forgiveness. Years ago, my husband and I attended a big Christian conference in Rome. One day the conference celebrated a mass of reconciliation between European nations. Following the celebration we had lunch. At the lunch I sat next to a lady from Israel, a Jewish woman who had lost all her relatives in the Holocaust. She had originally come from Germany. I listened to her story and experienced a deep sadness about it. I felt led to say to her: “Mrs. Kleinberger, my father was a Nazi and on behalf of my father and my country, I ask you for forgiveness for what the Nazis did to your family.” A long silence followed. Then she did something astounding, something transformative. Mrs. Kleinberger wept and embraced me and said to me: “ In Christ we are one.”

This transforming idea of “in Christ we are one” continues in my life today. Years ago my husband and I were invited to the “Round Table – Way of Reconciliation”. The Round Table is a fellowship of leaders of all denominations and churches in Austria, including Catholics, Protestants, Pentecostals, Free churches, Anglicans, and Orthodox. Fifty years ago it would have been impossible to think that members of all these churches and denominations could sit together around a round table and begin to respect and love one other. Our individual and church histories had all convinced us that we alone were in possession of the truth and the others were wrong. For 400 years Austria was a predominantly Catholic country because our rulers – the Habsburg families – were Catholic. All non-Catholics were said to be heretics. The split in the church created a tragic divide. We have to learn that we have a common history and that God is a God of history.

The Bible tells us to: Remember the days of old; consider the years of many generations (Deuteronomy 32:7). I was forced to do this when I was asked to prepare a paper for a Conference on the common history of the Catholic and Protestant church. Through this experience God was encouraging me and moving me to further “awakenings” and to deeper involvement in the reconciliation between the different parts of the Body of Christ. This has led me to become active in the important work of Wittenberg 2017. I am convinced that the principles of reconciliation that guide Wittenberg 2017 are important to give our attention to and hold the promise of leading us to greater unity among the Body of Christ. Among the Principles, the following stand out to me:

Divisions weaken the Church universal.
The Church universal should feel the pain of her divisions and grieve them.
Grieving requires memory and emotion and we should pray for reconciliation and unity.
Any division can be healed and reconciled with the power of God.

These Principles have proven true in my journey of forgiveness and reconciliation. They have been true in my family’s life. Because of this I am convinced that God can do his work of forgiveness and reconciliation in the divided Church. This is my prayer and my hope.

Source: Wittenberg 2017 - "Verena's Story", from the Wittenberg 2017 (US) website
http://www.wittenberg2017.us/verenas-story.html

Lutheran Friendships

Asked about his personal experience with the Lutheran Church, Pope Francis said the first time he ever entered a Lutheran church was when he was 17 and went to a co-worker’s wedding.

Later, as a Jesuit and professor at the Jesuit school of theology in Argentina, he said he had frequent contact and exchanges with professors at the nearby Lutheran school of theology.

“I invited a professor of spiritual theology from that faculty, a Swede, Anders Ruuth, to hold lectures on spirituality together with me,” the pope said. It was “a truly difficult time” for the pope personally, he said, “but I had a lot of trust in him and opened my heart to him. He helped me a lot in that moment.”

Friendships and formal exchanges with Lutheran pastors and leaders continued while he was archbishop of Buenos Aires and now as pope, he said.

Source: Catholic News Service - "Pope on why he’s going to Sweden: ‘Closeness does all of us good’", 28 Oct 2016, https://cnstopstories.com/2016/10/28/pope-on-why-hes-going-to-sweden-closeness-does-all-of-us-good/

Pope Francis

… he comes with no fear or suspicion of Lutherans but decades of fellowship. In his interview with the Swedish Jesuit journal Signum he spoke of many friendships with Argentine Lutherans -Danish as well as Swedish - with whom he has had sincere exchanges. Traveling with him on the plane today will be one of his oldest non-Catholic friends, the evangelical pastor Marcelo Figueroa.

Source: Austen Ivereigh - Crux, "How a restless reforming pope can help heal Reformation rift", 30 Oct 2016, https://cruxnow.com/analysis/2016/10/30/restless-reforming-pope-can-help-heal-reformation-rift/

Can We Just Pray Together?

Late 1990s. I preached a series of messages on what Evangelicals can learn from Catholics and what Catholics can learn from each other. Perhaps half of the people in my congregation were from a Catholic background. (I never called them “former” Catholics.) Most of their families were divided: Catholic family members were offended and angry their loved ones were no longer attending mass, and Catholic-background folks in my congregation wanted their Catholic family members to be “born-again.”

For my message on what we can learn from Catholics, I invited the local monsignor to do a video for us to answer the question. After the service, my wife said, “I want to go to his church.”

My purpose in this teaching series was to bring down the dividing walls of misunderstanding and hostility. As my dear friend in Phoenix, Auxiliary Bishop E. Nevares loves to say, “Can we just pray together?”

Source: Gary Kinnaman - Presented during Movement Day NYC, representing the John 17 movement and Greater Phoenix and Arizona Catholic/Evangelical Bridges, as posted on the John 17 FB page on 1 November 2016.

Margarita's Story

When my son knocks on the door and I go to open it, I yell from the inside, “Who is it?” He answers back, “its me!” His voice is so familiar. Excitement and joy permeate my entire being, and as I open the door, the expression on my face reveals a welcoming smile, and an accepting embrace tells us both we are home.

We are home! What a feeling!

On June 2012, I was invited to The Lausanne Catholic and Evangelical Dialogue on Christ’s Mission held in Chicago. It was there that I first heard about the Wittenberg 2017 Initiative. As time moved on, I started grasping the purpose of this event. This is to be the 500 years commemoration of Martin Luther’s nailing of the 95 theses to the door of All Saint’s Church; which began a chapter of history that has brought much brokenness, separation and isolation to Catholics and Protestants. So when I heard that the four-fold purpose of Wittenberg 2017 is “to gather Christians together for prayer, repentance, reconciliation and unity,” I felt committed to support.

As I read Psalm 23, the so common, but unique, and beloved Psalm, I experience a journey of reconciliation, healing and restoration. It is a symphony about God’s assurance for those walking close by his side. It is a poem that speaks directly to the joys and fears of us human beings who are committed to raising a prophetic voice. “Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” (v 6) I believe God is calling us back home to that place.

When I was a little girl, growing up as a Latina Catholic in a town where there was little tolerance or acceptance of evangelicals and blacks, I heard conversations and witnessed a rage that existed in the minds of my community -- so I know a little about prejudice and racism. When I asked my grandmother why people were so mean, she would always say; “because of their ignorance. So, let’s pray that one day we can see Christ in those who are different than us.” Then she and I would kneel and begin to pray the rosary. It was then that I recognized a need to develop a different type of conversation; one that appreciated the similarities and accepted the differences. I was determined to see Catholics and non-Catholics become friends in the unity of worship and the symbol of the cross as representing a believer.

When I first entered Fuller Theological Seminary for post-graduate studies, I was looking for a school that would provide me with the opportunity for a multicultural and mission experience. The diversity of an interdenominational approach in ministry that Fuller presented was something that attracted me as part of my desire for higher education. I believed then and now, that my mission and vision were to be dedicated to addressing and eliminating all socially constructed -ism’s, stereotypes, and prejudices that have historically been used to discriminate and segregate groups of people. As a Roman Catholic and a Latina, I wanted to understand why, in many of our traditions, we still were not able to stay in conversation without bringing in our own arguments that separated us instead of finding items that would bring us together. My questions at that time were: How can I bring a transformative and constructive language into my own sharing as I sought to live out 1 Peter 3:8: “Finally, all of you, have unity of spirit, sympathy, love for one another, a tender heart, and a humble mind”? How can I represent my tradition and be willing to learn from others? How can I do and learn my Catholic theology in a different context of reflection? These and other questions were part of my initial curiosity as I entered Fuller Seminary.

Achieving a Masters in Divinity (2007) gave me the ability to seek greater possibilities as a Latina and as a Catholic. As a woman of color in an ever-changing Latino culture in America, I’ve had the opportunity to reach horizons never before opened in the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, where the position of Parish Life Director was first made available in 2006 for lay ecclesial minsters.

As Parish Life Director, I was a lay leader who was entrusted with the leadership of a parish. I am convinced that the opportunity and experience at Fuller equipped me, and from there, doors began to open. It was not just an open door to the position of being appointed as a Parish Life Director, but also to an environment that continues providing me with the affirmation of my call and vocation. I welcome the conversations, discussions and one-on-one’s with colleagues, professors and friends. The possibilities for the future continue to expand.

I am a mother of six children, all grown and nearly finished with their higher education. As I entered into this new generation with its constant changes, my children are now teaching me the power of creating new possibilities. And like my grandmother’s prayers, I pray that with every involvement, every encounter and opportunity, we can grasp throughout our conversations the unique presence of God in our everyday life journey. As for my own journey, I have learned that there is often no place to really call home. But in the larger context, home is where acceptance, reconciliation, and genuine encounters reflect God’s love.

Source: Wittenberg 2017 - "Margarita's Story", from the Wittenberg 2017 (US) website
http://www.wittenberg2017.us/margaritas-story.html

Symbols

Then I caught sight of a Catholic spy in the Protestant camp: a gold cross atop the pole of the church flag. Adoring Christ required using that symbol. The alternative was the froth. My gratitude to the Catholic Church for this one relic, this remnant, of her riches, was immense. For this good Protestant water to flow, there had to be Catholic aqueducts. To change the metaphor, I had been told that reliance on external things was a "crutch!" I now realized that I was a cripple. And I thanked the Catholic "hospital" (that's what the Church is) for responding to my needs.

Source: Peter Kreeft - Hauled aboard the Ark, http://www.peterkreeft.com/topics/hauled-aboard.htm

A Loss In The Reformation

Until these matters could be clarified, Bonhoeffer needed a place of shelter, a haven from the ever-watchful eye of the Gestapo. His “nomadic existence” was becoming less tenable. “[I need] to plant myself somewhere a little more permanently,” he wrote to his parents. Ettal was first suggested by Paula Bonhoeffer, Dietrich’s mother, who was familiar with the area from vacations she and her husband had spent in the nearby village of Oberammergau. In this way, the Protestant theologian found himself living in a Catholic community.
...
Bonhoeffer found spiritual nourishment at Ettal in the daily rhythms of Scripture, prayer, silence, and song. This pattern resembled, in some respects, Bonhoeffer’s organization of community life at Finkenwalde, with its antiphonal reading of the Psalms, stated hours of prayer, hymn singing, and silence. This form of spiritual life was dubbed by some of his critics as “a new kind of monasticism.” Now ensconced in a rather “old” form of monasticism based on the Rule of St. Benedict, Bonhoeffer reflected on the inherent value of monastic life for the entire church: “It would certainly be a loss (and was indeed a loss in the Reformation!) if this form of communal life preserved for 1500 years were destroyed, something those here consider entirely possible.”

Source: Timothy George - "Bonhoeffer at Ettal: Advent", First Things, 12 Dec 2016, https://www.firstthings.com/web-exclusives/2016/12/bonhoeffer-at-ettal-advent-1940

Start With Biography

And that's why it's important for us, again, when we're thinking of ecumenism, when we're thinking of reconciliation, that's why it's so important not to start with theology, but to start with biography. That's why we enter into the story. Because the biography tells how the theology forms.

Source: Daniel Malakowsky - Daniel Malakowsky, The History and Nature of Church Divisions, Lesson 6, http://www.churchdivisions.com

Rod Dreher

Dreher left Catholicism in 2006; after covering the Catholic sex-abuse scandal for the Post and The American Conservative, he found it impossible to go to church without feeling angry. He and his wife converted to Eastern Orthodoxy, and, with a few other families, opened their own Orthodox mission church, near St. Francisville, sending away for a priest. It was Dreher’s Orthodox priest, Father Matthew, who laid down the law. “He said, ‘You have no choice as a Christian: you’ve got to love your dad even if he doesn’t love you back in the way that you want him to,’ ” Dreher recalled. “ ‘You cannot stand on justice: love matters more than justice, because the higher justice is love.’ ” When Dreher struggled to master his feelings, Father Matthew told him to perform a demanding Orthodox ritual called the Optina Rule. He recited the Jesus Prayer—“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner”—hundreds of times a day.

Two life-changing events occurred after Dreher began the regimen of prayer. He was alone at home one evening, lying in bed, when he sensed a presence in the room. “I felt a hand reach inside my heart and put a stone there,” he said. “And I could see, in some interior way, that the stone said, ‘God loves me.’ I’d doubted all my life that God really loved me.” A few months later, Dreher stopped by his dad’s house to organize his medications. Ray was sitting on the porch, reading the newspaper and drinking coffee. When Dreher leaned down to kiss him on the cheek, his father grabbed him by the arm. Tears were in his eyes. “He was stammering,” Dreher recalled. “He said, ‘I—I—I spent a long time talking to the Lord last night about you, and the transgressions I did against you. And I told him I was sorry. And I think he heard me.’ ” Recounting the story in the back seat of the car en route to D.C., Dreher still seemed astonished that this had happened. “I kissed him, and said, ‘I love you.’ ”

Dreher’s father died in 2015. The next summer, the mission lost its priest and one of the founding families moved away. To be near an Orthodox church, Dreher and his family moved to Baton Rouge. Looking back on his time in St. Francisville, Dreher thinks that, if he hadn’t moved there and then forced himself to follow the rules—prayer, proximity, love—he would have stayed an angry child forever.

Source: Joshua Rothman - "Rod Dreher's Monastic Vision", The New Yorker, 1 May 2017, http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/05/01/rod-drehers-monastic-vision

Pope Benedict

Benedict is a realist about loving. He knows love comes only through effort and practice. It is costly. It is fatiguing.

Source: Lonni Collins Pratt & Fr. Daniel Homan, OSB - Radical Hospitality: Benedict's Way of Love, p. 49

My Friend The Bishop

I have a friend standing right here, he's a bishop in Phoenix in my city, and I have a feeling that he's going to remain a Catholic the rest of his life. And I’m going to remain an Evangelical the rest of my life. But last night we had wonderful time just sitting together, just talking about our relationship with God, with Jesus, and how that's ultimately what it means to be a follower of Christ. We belong to him, He's the center. And as I said, all these other things are important. The differences are important. The differences are what make me unique. But it's our relationship to Jesus that actually brings all of our uniqueness together.

Source: Gary Kinnaman - "Unity in Diversity", YouTube video by LightBalloon, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d1HXZlgjSTQ