Picher R.I.P.

Some of you may be wondering -- Picher, OK is about an hour east of us, in Bartlesville. We drive through there every time we would go to Springfield/Ozark Mo to visit my mom and aunt. It was a raggedy old place, neglected and badly polluted (superfund site) from the lead mining there.

Based on my Louisiana and other experiences, I've been working, working, working to get churches better prepared for disaster response work. Mostly my audiences just stare at me with all the comprehension and excitement of Holsteins. Right now I want to grab somebody by the tie and shout, "Didn't I tell you!?"

Hurricanes, cyclones, tornadoes, earthquakes, floods aren't preventable. The damage and loss of life that they do often is. Please plan ahead.

'Easy, Warren. Just go back to your room and we'll order some medicine...'

Holy Moments

She stood at the curb of the busiest 4-lane street in Bartlesville, with her baby in a stroller in front of her. The nearest traffic signal was at least a block away. I was turning into the street from a not-too-distant driveway. I have no idea how long she'd been standing there. A driver stopped his pickup in the curb lane in front of her. No one behind him got on their horn. They honored his action. Before long, another car stopped in the right center lane. The young mother dashed across the two lanes, to the narrow space in the middle.

A space opened in the traffic and I entered the traffic and went my way. I was unable to see behind me whether traffic stopped behind me to allow her to continue across.

I was also unable to jump out of my car to ask the religious or ethnic affiliation of the courteous drivers -- but I did note that the pickup driver who started it had black, straight hair, dark eyes and olive skin. In the eyes of many living here, such an act of kindness and consideration would be labeled "Christian," with the incredible blindness that says, Native Americans, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, secular humanists or pagans would never engage in such, as though kindness were exclusive to Christians.

Whoever -- the radiance of Christ shows through such acts, they are indeed tiny holy moments -- in America, anywhere, by anyone....

For those drivers, and for the universal love and kindness that prompted them, we bless them. O Lord....

...And for the safety of the young mother and her child, we pray, O Lord...

...and for us who are blind to the presence of Diving Compassion in all humanity, O Lord....

Peace, w

we are the leaders we've been waiting for...

When they hear that I am clergy, people often ask of me my religious affiliation. I often tell them, "Bapholic." No one denomination meets my various needs (where is the Baptist contemplative/monastic tradition?), and I'm certainly not about to affiliate with a church by, for and about feeble-minded old men soaked in patriarchy. So I give myself (and you, if you need it) the freedom to pick and choose.

I'd mentioned a couple of blogs ago that I'd write from time to time about how I nurture my faith. One of the emails to which I subscribe comes to me through "National Catholic Reporter" online. The title is "El Rio Debajo El Rio" -- The River Beneath the River -- and the author is Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes, PhD. Ms. Estes is a teller of stories, a keeper of the wisdom, a healer.

Her stories weave together the earthy with the mysterious, the prophetic ethical with the comic and the hysteric.

Find her work; you may be glad you did.... She has a quote (I believe) from her most recent blog: "We are the leaders we've been waiting for." See what I mean about "Bapholic?"

Pax, warren