1. Tim O'Reilly posted a picture and comment on Facebook about his experience as a student in Kellogg's now defunct Catholic school connected to St. Rita's church. Tim tells us he has PTSD and attributes it to the nuns. A roster of other St. Rita's alum commented on Tim's post, furthering his point that the nuns could be strict, punishing, and traumatizing. This thread alternated between dark humor and painful memories.
As this thread developed, Shelley Church wondered why nuns were so mean and asked if anyone had a positive story.
Well, I couldn't tell any stories, positive or negative, about St. Rita's, but I had two of the best summers of my life at Fort Wright College, run by the Sisters of the Holy Names, in Spokane. I took courses there in the summers of 1976 and 77. My professors were nuns. A majority of the students were nuns. Some resided in or near Spokane and others were from more far-flung parts of the country.
I'll just say that for whatever reasons, my inclinations when it comes to Christianity and world religions have always been ecumenical.
In 1976, I had just graduated from Whitworth College (a Presbyterian affiliated Christian college) and in September I would begin a new job as a Chaplain's Assistant in the college's chaplaincy.
So I showed up that first summer at Fort Wright College as a young Protestant whippersnapper, not so eager to represent Protestantism, but eager to learn all I could from the Roman Catholics I would be studying with. I returned the second summer eager to build upon what I'd learned the summer before and to deepen the friendships I'd made.
My experience with the Holy Names nuns those two summers was unfalteringly positive. We studied literature and the Bible together. We worshiped together, prayed together, dined and drank beer together, and had stimulating conversations. My professors and classmates accepted me warmly, encouraged my participation, and opened my eyes to a world of serious study, meaningful prayer and worship, and much laughter and fun.
I've often thought that my wonderful experiences those two summers contributed significantly to my decision in the 1980s to worship as an Episcopalian and to be eventually confirmed in the Episcopal church.
2. Again today, like yesterday, my energy was better than it's been in months. I got more work done around the house, including more laundry. I made a run to Beach Bum Bakery for a loaf of just out of the oven French bread, bought a Sunshine Muffin Top, and because Rebekah had great news about the bakery (I'm not sure she's making it public just yet), she gave any bakery club member who came in a slice of a heavenly chocolate cake she'd just baked.
I put together a leafless salad, listened to more of Lonesome Dove, and read several articles by great writers developing their perspective on events transpiring as 2026 gets underway.
I'm not feeling as good as I felt in the first half of 2025, but I have felt better the last two days than I have most days in the second half of 2025 and I will be very happy if this improvement continues.
3. I also meditated upon the January 5th and 6th pieces of music from the book Year of Wonder: Classical Music to Enjoy Day by Day.
First, the music for January 5th.
I listened to Crucifixus, composed by Antonio Lotti (1667-1740).
The setting for this three and a half minutes of polyphonic choral music goes as follows: "He was crucified also for us under Pontius Pilate. He suffered and was buried."
I need to make one thing clear: I do not have great sound speakers at home.
That said, as the sound of this choir intoning the news of Jesus Christ's crucifixion came pouring out my inferior speakers, miraculously, our living room became like a cathedral.
I was transported back to the years 1975 and 1979 when I toured England and visited several Gothic Cathedrals from Canterbury to London to Salisbury to Chester to York and other cathedrals in between.
I was struck, repeatedly, by the way the architecture of these cathedrals invited one's eyes to look upward, heavenward and by the seemingly immeasurable amount of space these cathedrals provided, space I experienced as being filled by the Holy Spirit.
I worshiped in some of these cathedrals and hearing choir sing in them gave me the feeling that their voices were coming from another realm of being. I imagined they were angels singing, filling the expanse of the cathedrals' interiors.
And so this evening. as I listened to the Choir of New College, Oxford bring Lotti's Crucifixus alive, it was as if the ceiling and roof of our modest little house began to expand, rise upward. I imagined for about three minutes that a cathedral had replaced the space I live in and angels had come to sing in it.
The wonderful music for Jan 6th was by Max Bruch (1838-1920). I listened to the Prelude of his Violin Concerto No 1 in E Minor.
Listening to Bruch took me back to Eugene's Hult Center or the U of Oregon Beall Hall or being back to the one-time home of the Spokane Symphony, the Spokane Opera House. Our living room transformed from a Gothic cathedral into a Symphony Hall.
Whereas the first piece transported me to a heavenly place where I imagined angels singing, Bruch's concerto is beautifully human, taking me not out of myself but more deeply into myself, opening me up to a wide, deep, and sometimes exciting range of emotion.
I enjoyed this contrast between sacred and secular music, between being taken into the heavens and into some region of my soul.
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