by Mirabai Starr
Here in the mountains of northern New Mexico where I have spent most of life, the winter solstice season is marked by fire. During Advent, families and businesses fill small paper bags with…
Love in a Time of War
Made in the Image of God
On the Birth, Death, and Rebirth of Community
Community has always been one of those important words with dozens of meanings, each with its own history, issues, and values. And in a world which increasingly resembles a global village, issues of community have become more complex.
Love is the Means and the End
I approached this book with high hopes and some trepidation. I longed for interspirituality when I had no name for it. I knew I wanted more than interfaith dialogue, useful as that is as a starting place. I am usually disappointed when authors compare faiths. My experience of heavily negative criticism of Christianity and blithe misinformation makes me wary.
Just Sign Up for the Goodies?
I was prepared not to like this book. I did not disagree with the author’s core belief that, in the words of Brother Wayne Teasdale, there is a “shared mystic heart beating in the center of the world’s deepest spiritual traditions.” Nor did I have trouble with naming that heart “interspiritual.”
Faithful to the Truth
Mirabai Starr speaks of the great tree of monotheism with its roots entrenched in the immutable soil of the metaphysical truth of love and its trunk extending heavenwards.
Mirabai Starr – An Interview about Writing God of Love
Mirabai Starr’s new book, God of Love – A Guide to the Heart of Judaism, Christianity and Islam, will be disconcerting to many in an arena that seems sometimes to have been written to death – the complexities of the Abrahamic faiths. The interconnections Starr explores seem novel but obvious at first. As the interconnections accumulate, though, familiar sacred texts become powerful and compelling in new ways, a source of hope for those who’ve concluded that Abrahamic violence is forever intractable.
Love in a Time of War
Here in the mountains of northern New Mexico where I have spent most of life, the winter solstice season is marked by fire. During Advent, families and businesses fill small paper bags with dirt and nestle yellow votive candles inside them. They line the adobe walls around their homes and the low hanging flat rooftops of their shops with these homemade lanterns, called farolitos, and kindle them at sunset. The entire valley glows with tiny golden lights. What began as a Spanish Catholic tradition is now a cherished ritual for our entire multicultural community.