by Devin Barney
With the psalm wrapping up, the Time was fast approaching. Organ notes shifted to a hauntingly familiar prelude to my morning anxiety. Deep breath in. Deep breath out…
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by Devin Barney
With the psalm wrapping up, the Time was fast approaching. Organ notes shifted to a hauntingly familiar prelude to my morning anxiety. Deep breath in. Deep breath out…
by Maij Vu Mai
What is religious pluralism to the Survivor? To the one who’s lost faith in themselves? Lost faith in other people? Lost faith in humanity? To the one who’s lost faith in their ability to connect because…
by Audrey Kitagawa
Thank you, everyone for joining in this 9th annual interfaith Service of Remembrance and Gratitude. During the annual UN Commission on the Status of Women, this particular…
A TIO Interview by Megan Anderson
This month, TIO “sat” down via Zoom with Matthew Fox and Lama Tsomo to talk about compassion and the role it plays in our world today.
by Kevin Singer
My Dad grew up in a Jewish family. When he was a child, he was targeted with insults because of his family’s background. As a result, he was not fond of religion.
by Michael Reid Trice
Our age is the story of seismic shifts in the guiding, normative ways for how life is lived on this planet. We experience these shifts as seismic because they pulsate and tear at the foundations of…
by Rob Sellers
As a new university graduate, I was fortunate to spend 11 weeks as a student missionary in the Philippines in the summer of 1967.
by Tarunjit Singh Butalia
As a kid growing up in North India, I was thrilled whenever both my parents went out since I would have the full attention of my frail and aging grandmother.
by Ruth Broyde Sharone
Her lineage offers no clues. Martha Alice Perkins was born in La Fayette, Indiana in 1947, the daughter of a state policeman and devoted church-going Methodist mother, as well as the granddaughter of a member of the local Ku Klux Klan.
by Diana Butler Bass
Here in the labyrinth, I struggle to find words to describe what I feel. Up on the mountaintop, I knew the language to describe God: majestic, transcendent, all-powerful, heavenly Father, Lord, and King. In this vocabulary, God remains stubbornly located in a few select places, mostly in external realms above or beyond: heaven, the church, doctrine, or the sacraments.
by Donald Miller
We often make the mistake of identifying religious vitality with assent to particular beliefs. In this process, we forget that intellectual assent to beliefs is merely one element of religious experience. I was reminded of this fact recently when I observed the Procession of Santa Ana in Antigua, Guatemala.
by Andrew Aghapour
Chimpanzees believe in God. This news, widely reported last year, is only a slight exaggeration. Using hidden cameras, scientists have indeed captured footage of chimpanzee behavior that resembles religious ritual.
by Kevin Singer
I remember like it was yesterday; cracking open an old Baptist hymnal to the first hymn, “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” (Robinson and Wyeth, 1759). “Come thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy grace” the first verse begins. The final refrain ends in resounding fashion: “Take my heart Lord, take a seal it, seal it for thy courts above.”
by Ameena Naqvi
The waves crashed softly against the boat, pushing it towards the shore. My grandfather stepped off the boat and tied the rope to the dock. That day my grandfather was going to teach me how to sail. He described sailing as flying over water. It was like freedom to him, to set sail into the wide blue sea and leave his responsibilities on shore. However, I did not see the appeal of sailing as he did.
by Charles P. Gibbs
It seems unlikely that someone who co-founded Tulsa Beef and Feed, a motorcycle “gang,” would become a vegetarian. And, yet, I did; and I did. Here’s the story of an unlikely vegetarian. I was born and raised in the great southwest of the United States – born in New Mexico, the Land of Enchantment; and mostly raised in Oklahoma, the Sooner State, puzzlingly named after...
by Vicki Garlock
Some decades ago a friend of mine, a college senior way back then, was attending a conference at a large, distinguished university of “pre-faculty” students, collegians who hoped to pursue a higher-education vocation in the next few years. The three-day gathering culminated in a large banquet, some final comments on the benefits of professordom from several university presidents, and a question & answer session.
by Weston Pew
On my path over this past year my work for The Sacred Door Trail has taken me to the melting glaciers of Greenland where gigantic ice walls fall into rivers every 20 minutes, shaking ground and bone as a warning call of the coming rising seas.