Thomas Moore starts with ‘The Eloquence of Silence’ to help clarify a crystalline glimpse of hope

Early on a calm morning on Lake St. Clair in Michigan.

Surprising Wisdom in Tales of Emptiness

Click the cover to visit the book’s Amazon page.

By DAVID CRUMM
Editor of ReadTheSpirit magazine

“It’s good to talk with you again after 30 years,” I told the bestselling author Thomas Moore as he appeared on my Zoom screen for an interview about his new book, The Eloquence of Silence—Surprising Wisdom in Tales of Emptiness“Should we make an appointment now to talk in another 30 years?”

Moore laughed. Although he is known for serious spiritual writing, longtime readers enjoy his occasional mischievous wit as well—and it’s certainly evident in his new book, which is full of unexpected twists and turns.

“Let me think,” Moore said. “I’ll be 112 then. I think I’ll have some free time. Sure, let’s set the date.”

The humor we were sharing actually relates to a milestone in Moore’s life that he describes in the opening pages of this new book. Back in 1992, his fifth book had just been published and he traveled all the way from his New England home to some West Coast book events. On his first night out there promoting his book, he showed up for a launch event at a Portland, Oregon, bookstore—where he waited.

And waited.

And no one showed up.

Not one soul.

At that time, Moore shrugged his shoulders and chalked it up to the tough life of a would-be author. So far in his career as a writer, not many people had bought his books, so his expectations were not high for this new book.

Then, on the second night of that 1992 West Coast swing, at a different bookstore this time, hundreds of people showed up. That book—Care of the Soul—soon was on national bestseller lists and, to date, has sold more than 2 million copies. Today, after that classic and more than a dozen other books, we all know that Moore is a major figure in American publishing—period. In the specific circle of spiritual authors, he’s truly a Giant.

But what Moore focuses on in his opening pages of this new book is not the later success. No, instead, he wants us to consider what it felt like on that first night in his lonely vigil, waiting for readers who never arrived. Moore learned far more the first night than he did on the second night of his book tour. Among the lessons he learned that first night was: “That evening of emptiness in Portland taught me not to be attached to obvious and literal success but to remain indifferent to how my work is received, to cherish my creations whether or not anyone shows up to express their approval.”

And, please, read that line again because it’s a truth I’ve learned myself after 50 years as a journalist and editor. As Moore explains, it’s a Buddhist truth that is essential to a balanced life. I have often described that inner balance in the face of the world’s turbulence with a playful metaphor: “having the hide of a rhino.” In his new book, Moore names this more clearly as sunyata, which he describes as reflecting “the great Heart Sutra and the many pages of theoretical writing by the sage Nagarjuna.”

Whatever you prefer to call this timeless spiritual truth, here’s another thought: Sunyata most often is translated as “emptiness”—and Moore and I both know that’s a hard concept to sell to readers. In fact, Moore and his publishing team intentionally moved that word to the subtitle.

Why Emptiness Is Prized

“We had trouble with the title for this book,” Moore told me. “The publisher and my agent and my family all were talking about the title. Sometimes titles just snap into place, but this one was a struggle. The book really is about emptiness but it’s hard to put that word into a book title. Who would buy a book that says it’s about emptiness? That sounds like a blank book.”

Moore paused, then smiled and said, “But I wanted that word somewhere in the title, because this is a book about emptiness. And, in religious tradition, emptiness is prized. And that’s why I’m very happy to see some prominent Zen Buddhists endorsing this book.”

That has been one of Moore’s great talents as a writer and teacher. His story now is well known: Born into an Irish Catholic family in Detroit, he was part of the Order of Servants of Mary (Servites or OSM) for 13 years. He eventually left the order, earned a doctorate in religious studies at Syracuse and worked for many years as a psychotherapist. In his 50s, then, he became world famous for weaving together all the strands from his life, including spirituality and psychology from many traditions.

“In India, there is a tradition of writing long, abstract treatises about emptiness—a treasured tradition that still is studied,” Moore said. “My work in general over all these years is to take these traditions that I think are very rich—and I want to present them in a way that a modern person can understand and apply. I want to use good English to describe these ideas accurately, without all the starchy academic wording, to show how these teachings are relevant today. There are so many ways to approach emptiness. Emptiness is something that can be very spiritually advanced in your spiritual life—or you can start with emptiness as simple as cleaning up your desk, emptying your schedule or cleaning out a closet.”

Wisdom that unfolds over many years

Like many great Christian and Buddhist mystics, Moore’s wisdom has been unfolding ever so slowly over the decades. He was 51 when Care of the Soul made him an internationally influential spiritual teacher. In fact, when I first interviewed Moore in early 1993, there was a lot that I did not know about him—that I have learned subsequently through his writings and that we talked about in our Zoom interview about this new book.

In fact, back in 1992, I had never heard of Thomas Moore. I was the Religion Editor of The Detroit Free Press and was not even aware of his books. There was no Google (1998) or Wikipedia (2001) prompting us with things we should know. There were no emails prompting me, as a journalist, with press releases from publishers. The vast Amazon mothership wasn’t even founded until 1994.

But, in our Free Press newsroom in early 1993, an alert editor called me over to her desk: “I’ve never heard of this guy,” she said, pointing me toward a copy of The New York Times books section laid out on her desk. “But you’re our religion guy and you should know him. After all, he’s a Detroit author, or at least he has family roots here in Detroit—you know, local writer becomes a hit nationally. His book is all over the bestseller lists. We need you to get an interview with him and write up something for our Sunday paper.”

And so I did. I don’t remember much about that interview, nor does Moore himself. Because of some technical glitches in the archives of Detroit newspapers, that resulting article seems to have vanished even from the vast digital archives online these days.

“Talk about emptiness!” I said to Moore in our Zoom conversation. “It’s strange to have a number of years of your public work from that era simply disappear. The story once was there—so very public that it was hand delivered all over the state to a million homes. Now, it’s—gone. Like it never happened.”

‘Hmmm. Makes you think.’

If you have read this far, let me recap: In the opening of this column, so far, there are at least two tales of emptiness that could have served as chapter openers for Moore’s new book. In his 200 pages, Moore’s 40 chapters each begin with a very short tale of emptiness, then he reflects on the wisdom we could glean from those stories and he invites us to continue pondering those stories throughout the rest of our day. At least that was my experience, because I read his book over 40 days as morning meditations.

What are those two tales I’m using to illustrate the kinds of tales you’ll find in his book?

Well, in the opening of this column, there’s the wonderment of the emptiness implied in our scheduling another meeting in 30 years. He would be 112 and I would be 98. But where will we be? Perhaps separated; perhaps together in the great beyond? Where will you and a friend be in 30 years? Hmmm. Now that’s worth pondering.

Or, consider the fact that our first meeting—our first conversation that was delivered to more than 1 million readers of The Free Press 30 years ago—has vanished through a series of archival glitches. Or did that story vanish? Is there someone out there who first “met” Moore through that Free Press story 30 years ago and became one of his millions of readers? In that emptiness—that missing story of our first meeting—were there enduring ripples? Are there readers who intertwined with our story, living with the blessing of having first met Moore in their Sunday Free Press—living with positive Moore memories to this day?

Makes you think.

And, if you like that kind of prompting—and that kind of spiritual reflection—then you’ll love Moore’s new book. There’s something about our very brief cosmic connections across 30 years that is the perfect prelude to The Eloquence of Silence.

A 1945 Newspaper Clipping from the Shores of Lake St. Clair

Since Moore and I were time traveling in our Zoom conversation, we also leaped back 78 years to Michigan’s Lake St. Clair. It’s not as vast as the five so-called Great Lakes, but it’s a very large lake in its own right—and it plays an enormous role in the middle of Moore’s new book. Lake St. Clair is the main character in Chapter 25, called “No One in the Boat.”

“I’m fascinated with that story,” I told Moore. “When we talked 30 years ago, this never came up. And, back then, there was no way to search the archives to find something like this. I know that the story did not appear in Care of the Soul or most of your other books.”

Moore nodded. “It’s a story that has a lot of meaning for me, but it’s not a story I told in my early books.”

Part of the problem—similar to the challenges of explaining words like “emptiness”—is how to tell the story so that readers will understand what Moore himself has gleaned from it. In our interview, he told me that he once resisted telling the story because readers responded to it as proof that God had saved him from the dangerous waters of Lake St. Clair to fulfill his life’s purpose. And, Moore insists, that is not good theology—or, at least, is not his theology.

“But, as I have gotten older, I have begun telling the story,” he said. “I think I’ve told it a few times before this book.”

Later, I checked and he is correct. The first version of the story appeared in a brief passage in his 2004 book Dark Nights of the Soulincluding text of a brief 1945 newspaper clipping he has saved:

“A boy whose grandfather gave his life to save him was rescued from Lake St. Clair. The boy, Thomas Moore, 4, son of Ben Moore, was thrown into the water with his grandfather, also named Thomas Moore, when a gust of wind overturned their light boat. The grandfather held the boy afloat above his head as he struggled to keep afloat. The grandfather, exhausted by his efforts, cried out for help.”

Men in another boat on the lake eventually responded, saving the boy. But the grandfather had drowned. The magnitude of that event has stayed with Moore throughout his life. Although he rarely spoke of it in public, he wrote in the 2017 book, Ageless Soul, that not a week has passed in his life that he has not revisited his memories of that day at Lake St. Clair.

“I still wonder about the meaning of it all,” Moore said in our Zoom conversation. “My relatives tell me that I was saved to do the work that I do—but that’s not my version of the story and I think it’s one reason I did not tell the story for many years. My version of the story is that this acquaintance with death made me serious about things. It had that kind of impact. It set my course on a serious life of study and reflection.”

Hmmm. And what are you thinking about this dramatic story? Well, it’s a good reason to read this new book. In describing the book as “crystalline,” I am thinking especially of this story. Although Moore has mentioned this story briefly in at least two earlier books—this three-page account of the Lake St. Clair story is the defining version.

But, be careful. Now that Moore has told the story to me in these pages—as a writer who has worked most of my life among the Great Lakes, now I can’t stop thinking about it. That little story is both haunting—and hopeful.

Stories not only travel through time—they travel person to person and, once again, that’s a truth that defines the popularity of Moore’s work over the past three decades.

This Book Either Is—or Isn’t—Filled with Hope, Depending on Your Hopes

I told Moore in our Zoom that I found his book filled with hope. I told him I was going to use the word “hope” in my headline to this column.

He warned me against it.

“Hope is a confusing word,” he told me. “The word hope can be a problem, because people will think I’m talking about hoping for something, something they might want or some specific outcome. But when I talk about hope, I’m not interested in those things. I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t think that hope refers to a specific set of doctrines. But generally I would say that hope is an essential way of approaching life, as in the call to value ‘faith, hope and charity.’ If we are concerned about how to live in a community, today, I can’t think of a better trio follow than faith, hope and charity. But don’t let people think that I’m talking about hope for some object of desire.”

And so I have added Moore’s qualifier from his own lips.

Nevertheless, I am recommending this book as remarkably full of hope—a joyful collection of readings.

It’s true. That joy starts with Moore’s almost anarchic approach to his stories. He encourages readers to dive in anywhere, almost on any page. You could read the chapters in this book in reverse order, if you want, or select chapters at random. Each one is a crystalline artwork, and I use that word intentionally because Moore himself says he thinks of this book as an “artwork.”

Plus, this book is so easy to read! While many of Moore’s books are written for specific audiences—sometimes aimed more at religious leaders, therapists and academics than ordinary readers—this book is for all of us. There’s something here for everyone to discover, day by day, and there’s no excuse that you don’t have the time. These chapters take just a few minutes.

And for all of that hopeful, joyous light Moore has given us—I’m as happy with this new Moore book as I’ve been since I first discovered Care of the Soul more than 30 years ago.

‘What’s your passion?’ Howard Brown welcomes internet pioneer Jeff Pulver

By HOWARD BROWN
Author of Shining Brightly

I love recording conversations with creative men and women for my weekly podcast series, because it gives all of us a chance to discover new ways to shine brightly in our communities.

That’s especially true with internet pioneer Jeff Pulver, who often greets people with the question: “What’s your passion?”

He’s a friend after my own heart in wanting to lift up the people around us in our communities—and the new people we meet every day.

As a Silicon Valley entrepreneur myself, I followed Jeff’s work for many years. He’s a tech industry icon, a pioneer in Voice over Internet Protocol (VoIP) and an advocate for internet freedom. If you don’t recognize the worldwide importance of VoIP and Jeff’s contributions already, then let me briefly sketch his story:

In the ’90s, you’ll learn from Jeff’s Wikipedia page, he recognized that what he had been thinking of as a hobby—speaking to people around the world over the internet—led him to help launch a whole new industry. Of course, the existing telephone companies were not happy about this! There was a huge legal battle and Jeff helped to rally supporters of this new freedom around the world.

In February 2004, the FCC issued what’s become known as the “Pulver Order” classifying these new applications as information services. This meant that VoIP networks would, under law, be classified as internet applications, rather than telecommunications services. Without that order, we wouldn’t have had Skype and now Zoom and other services like it that so many of us depend on every day.

So, today, when you’re talking to someone online, remember to thank Jeff!

And, please listen to the podcast below because Jeff talks about how that vision of global conversation really supports our shared vision of shining brightly.

.

.

Care to learn more?

This is a perfect moment to become one of Howard’s growing global community of friends by ordering your copy of his book.

Here are other articles we have published, exploring the launch of this book:

Take a look at the book’s Foreword: ‘Shining Brightly’ Foreword by Dr. Robert J. Wicks: ‘Learn anew about the American Dream’

And especially read this story: Two-time cancer survivor Howard Brown writes ‘Shining Brightly’ to encourage others to stay healthy

Free Resource Guides

Download (and free-to-share) resource guides for discussing Shining Brightly:

.

.

.

The Rev. Dr. George A. Mason takes us to a multi-faceted center where neighbors feed neighbors

If you missed the previous video in the Rev. Dr. George A. Mason’s series “More than Food for Thought,” then take a look at George’s visit to a very different kind of “Sunday Service” at a Dallas skateboard park!

In this new video, George takes us to the West Dallas Multipurpose Center where he meets with Ashley Hutto, who shows us some of the ways the city of Dallas is addressing the issues of food access and insecurity. In a part of the city where access to grocery stores and fresh produce is limited, the Center offers emergency food assistance, bilingual SNAP application support, a teaching kitchen, a Neighbors’ Community Garden, and more. Follow along as George and Ashley explore the importance of seeking out sustainable and long-term solutions to hunger that arise from the community and maintain the dignity and independence of its members.

In this series, George carries his faith into the real world and shares the Good News he finds there every week. Mason’s parish truly is the whole world.

Yes, these stories come from small corners of one city—but they’re good news for the world. What motivates George in this series is what motivated environmental educator Mallory McDuff to create her new book, Love Your Mother. In saving our planet, and our communities worldwide, McDuff says in our cover story: “I really believe that it’s going to take thousands of different solutions.”

That’s a message George echoes in his ongoing video series.

Here’s the latest video from Dallas!

.

Care to Learn More?

First, order your own copy of George’s book—and consider ordering a second copy to give to a friend. Amazon offers both hardcover and paperback editions for gift giving.

Connect with George yourself via www.GeorgeAMason.com—which is a gateway both to his new book and to all of George’s ongoing work now that he has moved to emeritus status with Wilshire. When you first visit, sign up for his free email updates. (It’s easy to cancel anytime, but we doubt you’ll want to cancel.) Then, the website also makes it easy to Contact George, if you’re interested in an invitation to speak or have other questions.

In ‘Love Your Mother,’ Mallory McDuff brings us 50 women from 50 states urging climate justice

Mallory McDuff, at left, leads a class. (Photo from Warren Wilson College, used with permission of the author.)

Good People Are at Work Everywhere! Want to Help?

By DAVID CRUMM
Editor of ReadTheSpirit magazine

Empathy for each other and for our world as a whole is a value shared by our entire global network of authors and writers who have been contributing to our weekly online magazine since 2007. Our regular readers will recall our recent conversation with Barbara Mahany about discovering spiritual wisdom in the natural world, our story about Anita Nowak’s research into how “purposeful empathy” could save our planet, our ongoing coverage of Laura Elizabeth’s mission to highlight her beloved Daufuskie Island, our interview with Daneen Akers about bringing these lessons into our daily interactions with our children—and our conversation with Ann Byle about how much we can learn from … chickens.

Click on the cover to visit the book’s Amazon page.

Did you notice?

All of five of those recent columns highlight the remarkable, creative work of women.

This column is a sixth example of the strength of women in connecting all of us with our ultimate Mother, the world on which we live—and on which we hope to continue living for generations. That’s the major theme in environmental educator Mallory McDuff’s new book, Love Your Mother: 50 States, 50 Stories and 50 Women United for Climate Justice, which is available from Amazon and other booksellers.

Mallory is a person of faith, active in the Episcopal Church, but—like the other authors we continue to feature—she envisions a caring circle of men, women and children as big as the planet in all of our religious and cultural diversity.

‘How Can I Become Involved?’

In a Zoom interview about her new book, Mallory told me: “In this new book, there are stories of farmers, community organizers, elected officials, students, scientists of all different kinds, artists, sculptors, poets. I hope readers will find stories they identify with either by vocation or geography or by theme. And I hope that connecting with these stories might be a way for readers to take a next step to find out: How can I become involved?”

I completely agree with Mallory’s mission and her approach as an author. If we are going to get out of this climate crisis alive, and our grandchildren are going to have a shot at a healthy life, then we all need to help—whatever our faith or motivating principles may be.

Mallory and I both are people are faith as are many of the women you will meet in her book. However, as we talked over Zoom, I told Mallory that some of the most impressive allies in this cause who I have met and interviewed over my decades as a journalist are secularists, including self-described atheists and humanists. I have been impressed, over the years, with direct appeals that secularists such as James Gustave Speth and E.O. Wilson have made to people of faith. Both Speth and Wilson have published pointed invitations to people involved in religious movements to join hands in helping to preserve our planet. Readers who respond to such appeals by Speth and Wilson will feel right at home in Mallory’s appeals to the moral conscience of everyone—whatever our faith or secular practice may be.

I am spending this much time introducing Mallory in this week’s Cover Story, because that point needs to be stressed: We can’t allow boundaries of faith, culture or politics to keep us from recognizing the core of our shared community on planet Earth.

A Connective Prophet in Perpetual Motion

Mallory McDuff is a connective prophet who seems to be in perpetual motion, linking lives wherever she goes. I have followed Mallory’s work for a decade, since I first read her 2013 book Natural Saints: How People of Faith are Working to Save God’s Earth, published by the prestigious Oxford University Press. For that book, Mallory made a pilgrimage to 50 faith communities “with two daughters in tow,” as she puts it.

In my earlier Cover Story about Anita Nowak’s book Purposeful Empathy, one of the central findings in Anita’s research into empathy is that empathic adults usually are formed by the experiences they had as children. So, kudos to Mallory for taking her daughters on the road with her. That’s a theme echoed throughout the work of Daneen Akers and so many other colleagues.

Can you see how this circle of creative prophets connects around our world—whatever our gender or our age may be?

I mention Natural Saints, among Mallory’s many books, because Love Your Mother springs from a similar concept of searching the landscape and reporting on good news from 50 corners of the U.S. The subtitle of Love Your Mother is 50 States, 50 Stories and 50 Women United for Climate Justice.

“For this book, I did not go back out on the road again. I worked on this in the middle of COVID and I wasn’t able to go to all 50 states,” Mallory said in our interview. “I researched this book using information from sources I could access online, interviews with people by phone and Zoom. To complete the majority of this book, I was able to send each story back to the person for them to check over. Even in the research and writing, this was a case of women working collectively to share these stories.”

Finally, there is no list of 10 things Mallory expects readers to do at the end of her book. Her book has far too many suggestions to count! She gives us hundreds of things we could read, places we could visit, ideas we could pursue, people we could contact and ask to talk in our communities.

I said to Mallory, “I like that you leave us with so many choices. You’re not insisting on 1 thing everyone should do or even 10 things.”

“That’s because I really believe that it’s going to take thousands of different solutions,” she said. “The take-home message of this book for me is an awareness of so many individuals who are working in community—and that’s how this is going to change. Lots of people. Lots of solutions.

“My job as a writer and educator is to show people where they can plug in. If you’re feeling anxious about this as an individual, or if your local community is worried, then the question I hope readers of this book will be asking is: Where can we plug in with other people for collective action?”

And, ultimately, that’s the huge gift of this book: Wherever you live and however deeply connected you may be to environmental causes, I guarantee you will be surprised by some of the women you will meet in these pages. And, Mallory makes it easy to dig deeper into their work with a big resource section in the back of her book. Wherever you may be reading this column in our world, today, Mallory and I are pretty sure you can find similar good news stories by connecting with activists you could lift up as simply as sharing their social media with your network of friends.

Please, if you feel like doing a good deed in the world today, order your own copy of Mallory’s book and dig in! If you’ve got a similar story to share, we’d like to hear from you at [email protected]

If you’d like to connect with Mallory, please visit her website: https://mallorymcduff.com/

The Rev. Daniel Kidder-McQuown shares an idea to encourage college students to share their religious traditions

Photos courtesy of the Rev. Daniel Kidder-McQuown

‘Faith in Transition’ Strengthens Religious Affiliation

By DANIEL KIDDER-McQUOWN
Contributing Columnist 

Religiously affiliated colleges and universities often struggle with their denominational relationship.  What follows is a program idea for schools that seek to grow this relationship.

I have always served as an institutional chaplain (primarily in health care). In the past, I served for many years as chaplain of a small, private liberal arts college. Part of my responsibility was maintenance of the college’s church relationship. At the beginning of my time there, this responsibility entailed representing the college at denominational meetings and occasional alumni functions. There was no direct tie to campus life, nothing that involved current students, faculty, and staff in the church relationship. Even the local church adjacent to the college was excluded from campus daily activities.

After building relationships, I realized that below the surface, there was interest in change. Faith-affiliated students wanted a more tangible church relationship. They had come to the college in part because of its historic denominational ties. They wanted to see something in campus life that was tangible. In an effort to listen and respond to these students, the Office of the Chaplain started hosting conversations about tangible goals.

As the conversations progressed, student leadership was built, and faculty and staff began to take interest. We capitalized on this growth and were able to make significant small steps that served as building blocks. Perhaps the most notable step for the purposes of this reflection was the creation of paid student minister interns in the Office of the Chaplain, focused on the college-church relationship. Under my supervision, these interns helped us host ongoing dialogues with students, as well as leaders from the affiliated tradition.

These conversations led us to further insights. My student interns and I realized the affiliated tradition was lacking the same thing as our college—tangible ways to be related. We realized that we needed to look both ways. We needed to look inward at campus life, while at the same time doing something that positively impacted the affiliated religion.

At this point, the conversations could have ended in any number of outcomes. We discussed many possibilities, including service projects, mutual visits, conferences and retreats, the list was quite long. We tested some of these ideas, like taking our worship team out into churches in the region.

Eventually, though, we settled on nurturing youth as a focus. This seemed to make the most sense, as it was a core shared value of both the college and the church.

We decided to create a faith-enrichment opportunity on campus, designed for youth from our affiliated tradition. This would benefit the college overall by giving visiting youth and youth leaders a positive experience, and thus create a potential recruitment pipeline. This would benefit campus spiritual life, as students would become mentors for a weekend, and work together to fashion the overall experience. The hopes were also that interest would grow among faculty and staff. And the program would benefit affiliated churches. Youth would have an enriching experience designed for them, by college student mentors under my office’s supervision.

We decided the name of the program would be “Faith in Transition” (or FIT for short). I had talked with our student team about framing the program in developmental psychology theory. As studies continue to show, adolescence is often a crucial period of spiritual development.

Invitations were sent out by letter to affiliated churches in the region. Student leaders were asked to contact their home churches. I made phone calls to key youth group leaders and denominational representatives.

Each time we held the program, we used a fairly consistent format. Participating high school students arrived on Saturday and were welcomed by our college student leaders. We gathered participants together for an icebreaker, split them into mixed groups, and had them do fun activities with college student mentors around campus. They ate in the cafeteria, then returned to their mixed small groups for dialogue, followed by a combined campus worship service. After that, participants had a menu of options: Gaming, a live music café in the campus coffee house (with alumni performers), dialogue and activities with college student leaders, and other options. Participants left with their assigned college student host to sleep. Adult chaperones were lodged in college guest housing. Sunday morning was left flexible. All were invited to attend worship service at the adjacent affiliated church, eat breakfast in the cafeteria, and/or leave when their chaperones were ready.

In our debrief and evaluation, the student ministry interns and I pointed to a number of positive results. We had been successful in providing a safe, fun, and nurturing space for visiting high school students to consider what it might look like for them to stay active in their religion. We had provided a transformative ecumenical experience for our campus, most especially for the dozens of college students who helped lead the program.  We had provided the affiliated religion with a substantial program that served their mission. From the feedback we received, FIT had been a great success, accomplishing all the goals we had set forth.

As I’ve reflected on FIT as a program model, there were areas for growth. While we involved a handful of faculty, staff, and alumni/a in the program, we did not integrate the program into faculty and administrative culture.  While we involved a handful of leaders from the affiliated religion, we did not integrate the program into the religion’s culture. We made progress in both areas. But sustaining this program model would take a much wider effort.

For colleges and universities that might consider FIT for themselves, I would raise a key area of discernment.  As you have read, I chose to base this program on students, especially my student leaders. This had the desired effects of empowerment, ownership, and creativity. However, this choice came with consequences. The rest of campus culture was not integrated, though seeds were planted within faculty and administration.  I have often wondered if there were more ways to integrate these other parts of campus into FIT, whether in the planning, implementation, or evaluation phases.

I have also wondered if FIT could be a model for colleges and universities that are not affiliated with a religion. I think the answer is yes, and already happens to some degree with religious organizations that have existent, integrated ties with the college or university. FIT could easily be adapted for interfaith and intercultural purposes.

 

The Rev. Daniel Kidder-McQuown serves as Board Certified Chaplain (APC) with Trinity Health Ann Arbor, Michigan.  He can be reached at [email protected].

 

 

 

 

 

Larry Buxton on: Growing up and growing wise with Abraham Lincoln

Larry Buxton reading with his lifelong friend.

By LARRY BUXTON
Author of 30 Days with King David: On Leadership

I’m in the 7th grade, soon to be 13 years old. I get up from bed just a little after 10:00  and go outside in the dark. I walk to the edge of the front lawn, just by the street, and I look up. It’s a mid-April night, the skies are clear, stars are visible, and the air is cool.  I stare into the infinite darkness, and I ponder, as best as my pre-adolescent wisdom will allow, the scope of 100 years.

Larry Buxton works as a consultant with a wide range of leaders. Click on this cover to visit his book’s Amazon page.

I would have to live my same life over and over, eight times, to fill 100 years.  Once, twice, three times, four … I can’t fathom this. The year 1865 was decades before all the oldest people I know were even born.  My father’s father, “Pop,” is the oldest of my grandparents, and he seems the most like Abraham Lincoln of the family: He’s quiet, thoughtful, dignified, and good with his hands. I wonder if Pop, like Lincoln, had had rough and tumble experiences in his growing up or in his working as a machinist at the Shipyard. But he’s quiet and gentle with me, as I know Father Abraham would have been too.

The moonlight helps me read my watch: 10:15. In just a few minutes it will be one hundred years. My father will be 50 in a few months, I realize. He’s hardly a young man, and yet the time from 1865 until his birth is the same length of time that he’s been alive. I’m amazed. I can’t begin to grasp what 100 years is like. Images of horses and carriages, fields and plows, cowboys and lawmen, roadsters and bi-planes, flappers, Depression lines, a jumble of images from television and books and movies all race through my mind.

Then it’s 10:20. I look up. I listen for a sound, an echo, even an echo in my imagination, sounding from deep within the abyss of years. It was at this very moment that a shot was fired in Ford’s Theater, 200 miles north of where I’m standing, a shot that ended my hero’s life. This exact moment, 100 years ago to the second. Now!

I listen. I hear just the sounds of a spring night, nothing more. But I’ve marked the moment. I’ve stood and remembered and listened. Maybe God knows I’ve been out here.  Maybe God will tell Mr. Lincoln about this boy standing outside in the dark, in April, remembering him and missing him, too.

I walk back up to the front porch and slip inside. I go back into my room, where above my bed hangs another framed poster of the man. Dad knows of my fascination with this wise, tender President, and he frequently writes the Lincoln Life Insurance Company in Indiana asking for posters. Occasionally a brown cardboard tube will arrive with Dad’s name on it, and I get excited. I know what it is, and I’m eager to see the new print. Mom will frame it for me and position it right above my headboard. It’s always the first thing I see when I walk into my bedroom.

He is a silent, comforting presence in my life. Mom and Dad are good parents, for sure, and I know I’m fortunate. But life is still hectic and confusing, putting up with two noisy brothers, a big furry dog and a skittish cat, plenty of chores, and endless homework.  At school I’ve been one of the new kids this year, and I’ve noticed that 7th grade girls are different from 6th grade girls. They whisper more and giggle more, and I worry sometimes that it’s about me–when my voice cracked in science class, or when I stumbled off the bus and dropped my books in the mud. Or when I lost my wrestling match because the head cheerleader’s brother twisted me like a pretzel in gym class. It’s been an awkward year.

But at home, in my room, there is this quiet understanding. Abraham Lincoln had known awkwardness and embarrassment, too, but he radiates serenity and acceptance. He tells me that my future will hold something deep and important that I can’t see yet. His eyes show kindness, which I crave. His gaunt cheeks and dark beard promise me wisdom to come, something I can’t locate at all in my chubby body and facial fuzz.  His steady expression speaks of his determination to forge peace in a violent, hate-filled country. I love having Lincoln’s face watch over me at night, see me off to school in the morning, and welcome me home each afternoon. He is part of my private family.

Now 50 years have passed since that April night. A half-century again divides then and now. I’ve learned a lot about Lincoln as a father and husband. I’ve also learned about he led our bitterly-divided country as the President.

I have boyhood memories of “The President” being a noble and impressive job, held by men of character. But from those days til now, our nation’s Presidents have been men who’ve been shot, ridiculed, lampooned, embarrassed, impeached, disgraced, impeached, vilified and impeached again – on and on. Some commentators consider our era now heading towards “another civil war.”

But I cultivate an odd dream.  The dream is that in April of 2015, 150 years after that night in Ford’s Theater, some young adolescent also captivated by the soul of Abraham Lincoln kept a brief nighttime vigil under the stars. Some young girl or boy noted the hour and the minute and slipped outside. That teenager listened carefully for an echo from the past and tried to bring something of that moment into ordinary life.

That adolescent would be 20-something now, maybe finishing school or entering the working world. I dream that Lincoln’s kindness and compassion, his strength and determination, his character and wisdom are deepening the heart of another human soul. I dream that that person will emerge in the years to come ready to offer Lincolnesque leadership to a family, a community–even to our own weary nation.

.

The Rev. Dr. Larry Buxton has been an ordained United Methodist minister since 1975. His book, 30 Days with King David: On Leadership, is a character-focused study of the historical King of Israel. Larry began Larry Buxton Coaching in 2012 and holds the ACC credential from the International Coach Federation and the BCC credential from the Center for Credentialing & Education.  He is also a certified Resilient Leadership coach. To learn more about his work, please visit his professional website.

.

Care to Read More in our Fourth of July 2023 series on Lincoln?

Whatever you choose to read next, you will find the following links to the other 2023 columns at the bottom of each page:

Lincoln scholar Duncan Newcomer’s introduction to this series includes a salute to Braver Angels, a nationwide nonprofit dedicated to de-polarizing American politics that is gathering from across the country for a major conference at Gettysburg this week.

Duncan also writes about: What were Lincoln’s hopes for our nation?

And, he explores: What were Lincoln’s core values?

Then, journalist and author Bill Tammeus writes about how Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address still calls us to reach out to one another.

Journalist and author Martin Davis asks: Are our battle-scarred American roads capable of carrying us toward unity?

Author and leadership coach Larry Buxton writes about: Growing up and growing wise with Abraham Lincoln

Columnist and editor Judith Pratt recalls: Hearing our Civil War stories shared generation to generation.

Attorney and community activist Mark Jacobs writes about: How Lincoln’s astonishing resilience and perseverance inspires me today

.

.

Want the book?

GET A COPY of Duncan’s 30 Days with Abraham Lincoln—Quiet Fire.

Each of the 30 stories in this book includes a link to listen to the original radio broadcasts. The book is available from Amazon in hardcover, paperback and Kindle versions.

 

.

 

Martin Davis on: Are our battle-scarred American roads capable of carrying us toward unity?

Wilderness Church at Chancellorsville was the center of a stand made by some Union forces after Confederates under Stonewall Jackson made a surprise flank attack. (Click on the photo to learn more about the battle from Wikipedia.)

By MARTIN DAVIS
Author of 30 Days with America’s High School Coaches

In Spotsylvania, Virginia, a sign reading “Crossroads of the Civil War” greets visitors driving into the county from the west on State Route 3.

They are driving through land that Gens. Robert E. Lee and Joseph Hooker would still recognize, as it is little changed since they clashed in April 1863 at Chancellorsville, from which Lee turned north and toward his fateful battle at Gettysburg.

There is no such sign to greet visitors traveling north or south through the county on Interstate 95. And while Lee and Gen. Ambrose Burnside—who collided in Fredericksburg in December 1862—would recognize the general terrain along the interstate, they certainly wouldn’t recognize the region.

As a journalist, Martin Davis is an expert at inviting Americans of all political and cultural backgrounds to speak honestly about their lives. That’s what he did in his book 30 Days with America’s High School Coaches. Click on the cover to visit the book’s Amazon page.

This is the area that I call home. In local-government speak, it’s Planning District 16. In everyday speak, it’s the embodiment of a divided America.

Travel five miles east and west of I-95, and you’ll find highly educated, well-paid, professionals; as well as college-educated middle-class citizens. Many travel 50-or-more miles north to work every day. They settled here for plentiful land and relatively inexpensive homes. They were also attracted to good school divisions, the beautiful Rappahannock River, and the city of Fredericksburg with its arts and food scene.

The explosion in growth, the accompanying money, and the educational pedigree created a class of people unsympathetic to the Lost Cause. Their economic and social dominance also created a veneer of peace over the land that once played host to the battles of Chancellorsville (31,000 casualties), Wilderness (29,000 casualties), Fredericksburg (18,500 casualties), and Spotsylvania Courthouse (30,000 casualties).

The foes of Union, however, never went away. A small percentage of residents still fly confederate flags, and a larger percentage—through either quiet affirmation or silence in the face of pro-confederate propaganda—ensured the county remained a welcome locale for the very people who split Lincoln’s beloved Union in 1861.

Alongside these neo-confederates have risen the Christian Nationalists, the evangelical fundamentalists and the Trumpists. Donald Trump carried both Spotsylvania and Stafford counties in 2016. He carried Spotsylvania again in 2020, but by a smaller margin, and he lost to Biden—barely—in Stafford. Fredericksburg went Democratic in both races. (See here and here for a closer look.)

And the tensions that have erupted match those leading up to the Civil War in tone, if not in ferocity. I’ve spent the past two years reporting on these controversies—mostly in local school boards.

In the midst of such battles, I often wonder where the next Lincoln will come from—that one voice that can craft a vision forward to put down the forces opposed to freedom, and lead those who believe in the ideals of America.

That Lincoln, however, never existed.

Abraham Lincoln’s greatest moments were great in retrospect only. The Gettysburg Address, for example, was so short that most who were there didn’t even hear it. His rise to the presidency in 1861 brought not a unified Republican Party, but rather a divided body politic and a ferocious “team of rivals,” as Doris Kearns Goodwin described in what is surely the best biography of Lincoln over the past 50 years. (With all due respect to David Herbert Donald, and his magnum opus on the 16th president.)

Lincoln doubted himself. He was prone to fits of depression. And the office rarely took as great a toll on any one man as it did him, as side-by-side photos from 1861 and 1865 make clear.

So how did this flawed, frequently politically weak, Lincoln become the Great Man we pine for today in places like my home? The answer lies in understanding what Lincoln had that too many have missed–his Quiet Fire—a side of Lincoln it took scholar Duncan Newcomer to unearth. This quiet fire was a spiritual compass born not of orthodox religion, but an awareness of his own finitude. And his connection to a higher power.

This is the Lincoln we need. And that Lincoln exists.

He lives in the collaborative spirit of The New Dominion Podcast, where the former executive director of the Republican Party of Virginia sits weekly with a card-carrying progressive – the author – and interviews people in our community who understand the glue that is our local Union, and work daily to strengthen it.

He lives in the committed spirits of Nicole Cole, a member of the Spotsylvania School Board who caucuses with Democrats and has been stripped of power by a board majority of Christian Nationalist extremists, and Rich Lieberman, a parent who self-identifies as a conservative. Together, they are addressing issues related to student hunger, and challenging in court the many acts of questionable legality the board majority perpetuates.

And he lives in the life of Scott Mayausky, a Republican Commissioner of the Revenue in Stafford County who is committed to expanding our understanding of those not like us, and finding innovative solutions to taxing problems that unfairly burden the poor.

America the ideal is about e pluribus unum. From the many, one.

But the hard reality of America is that we are forever defined by the roads that we travel through our lives. Roads that bring change, and that remind us of who we once were.

Roads that once carried armies to battle, and that now carry children of all races and classes to school. Roads like Plank and Old Plank roads in Spotsylvania.

Lincoln still travels these roads today. In the lives of those who burn with quiet fire, and a commitment to union. A union of shared humanity.

Martin Davis is an award-winning journalist, founder of F2S, and co-founder of the New Dominion Podcast. His first book, 30 Days with America’s High School Coaches, examined how coaches are raising the next generation of leaders. His next book will explore the disconnect between education policy, and life in the classroom. Visit him at https://www.martindavisauthor.com.

.

Care to Read More in our Fourth of July 2023 series on Lincoln?

Whatever you choose to read next, you will find the following links to the other 2023 columns at the bottom of each page:

Lincoln scholar Duncan Newcomer’s introduction to this series includes a salute to Braver Angels, a nationwide nonprofit dedicated to de-polarizing American politics that is gathering from across the country for a major conference at Gettysburg this week.

Duncan also writes about: What were Lincoln’s hopes for our nation?

And, he explores: What were Lincoln’s core values?

Then, journalist and author Bill Tammeus writes about how Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address still calls us to reach out to one another.

Journalist and author Martin Davis asks: Are our battle-scarred American roads capable of carrying us toward unity?

Author and leadership coach Larry Buxton writes about: Growing up and growing wise with Abraham Lincoln

Columnist and editor Judith Pratt recalls: Hearing our Civil War stories shared generation to generation.

Attorney and community activist Mark Jacobs writes about: How Lincoln’s astonishing resilience and perseverance inspires me today

.

.

Want the book?

GET A COPY of Duncan’s 30 Days with Abraham Lincoln—Quiet Fire.

Each of the 30 stories in this book includes a link to listen to the original radio broadcasts. The book is available from Amazon in hardcover, paperback and Kindle versions.

 

.