I have always felt close to God.
I was raised as an Italian Catholic. I was an altar boy in Catholic grade school and believed - as I had been taught by the nuns - that I was closer to God because of it. At one point I wanted to become a priest, a desire that lasted until I reached puberty and discovered girls.
I knew that I could pray to God and be heard. I prayed for all the souls of my relatives who died. I prayed for the protection of everyone I loved. I prayed that the world would not blow up in a nuclear war. I prayed with the confidence that God was listening and - if I was good and did not sin - my prayers would be answered.
By the time I was in college I drifted away from the Catholic church but I still prayed daily. As my life got busier I stopped praying daily, believing that the work I was doing for social justice was prayer enough.
It wasn't until I was going through a contentious divorce that I began to seek out God again. A dear friend introduced me to the books of Thomas Merton and to the rich history of Catholic Social Teaching - both of which had a profound effect on me. The Catholic church - my church - wasn't just about sex, sin and obedience. It was also about a deep, vibrant, and mystical relationship with God. It was about using the power of the church to counter the ills of society. It was about compassion, mercy and justice.
What pushed me permanently away from the Catholic church was its actions when faced with a budget crisis. The Archdiocese ran into some financial concerns. The response - in part - was to close most of the central city parishes. I wondered how a church could espouse a doctrine of preferential option for the poor and at the same time - because of money problems - close the churches in the heart of the poorest communities in the entire Archdiocese. At the time, we still had children in Catholic school. I hung in until they graduated and then I left the church.
While I was not part of any organized religion - I maintained a strong spiritual life. I prayed, meditated and journaled daily. But the sense of community was missing. My closest friend married a Quaker who is also an author. One of her books - "The Wisdom to Know the Difference" - profiled how Quakers know whether or not they are being called by God to act. This intrigued me. I began reading more about the Quaker religion and became more curious. The Quakers have a strong tradition of social Justice. They teach that the Divine speaks to and through each person in big ways and in small and that we are all called to act on what we hear from within.
I decided to attend a Quaker meeting. I told my wife I would give it a month of meetings and see what it was like. I was impressed by the welcoming sense of community at the Milwaukee Friends Meeting. I was apprehensive about the silence of the Meeting for Worship and the fact that everyone is called to be a minister and anyone can be called by God to vocalize a message during the meeting. I have come to cherish the silence and have been struck by how the voice of God can be spoken by a hand full of Friends, in what one member calls Quaker jazz. I have felt welcomed. I have felt valued. I have felt at home. And thus, I have become a Quaker.
I was raised as an Italian Catholic. I was an altar boy in Catholic grade school and believed - as I had been taught by the nuns - that I was closer to God because of it. At one point I wanted to become a priest, a desire that lasted until I reached puberty and discovered girls.
I knew that I could pray to God and be heard. I prayed for all the souls of my relatives who died. I prayed for the protection of everyone I loved. I prayed that the world would not blow up in a nuclear war. I prayed with the confidence that God was listening and - if I was good and did not sin - my prayers would be answered.
By the time I was in college I drifted away from the Catholic church but I still prayed daily. As my life got busier I stopped praying daily, believing that the work I was doing for social justice was prayer enough.
It wasn't until I was going through a contentious divorce that I began to seek out God again. A dear friend introduced me to the books of Thomas Merton and to the rich history of Catholic Social Teaching - both of which had a profound effect on me. The Catholic church - my church - wasn't just about sex, sin and obedience. It was also about a deep, vibrant, and mystical relationship with God. It was about using the power of the church to counter the ills of society. It was about compassion, mercy and justice.
What pushed me permanently away from the Catholic church was its actions when faced with a budget crisis. The Archdiocese ran into some financial concerns. The response - in part - was to close most of the central city parishes. I wondered how a church could espouse a doctrine of preferential option for the poor and at the same time - because of money problems - close the churches in the heart of the poorest communities in the entire Archdiocese. At the time, we still had children in Catholic school. I hung in until they graduated and then I left the church.
While I was not part of any organized religion - I maintained a strong spiritual life. I prayed, meditated and journaled daily. But the sense of community was missing. My closest friend married a Quaker who is also an author. One of her books - "The Wisdom to Know the Difference" - profiled how Quakers know whether or not they are being called by God to act. This intrigued me. I began reading more about the Quaker religion and became more curious. The Quakers have a strong tradition of social Justice. They teach that the Divine speaks to and through each person in big ways and in small and that we are all called to act on what we hear from within.
I decided to attend a Quaker meeting. I told my wife I would give it a month of meetings and see what it was like. I was impressed by the welcoming sense of community at the Milwaukee Friends Meeting. I was apprehensive about the silence of the Meeting for Worship and the fact that everyone is called to be a minister and anyone can be called by God to vocalize a message during the meeting. I have come to cherish the silence and have been struck by how the voice of God can be spoken by a hand full of Friends, in what one member calls Quaker jazz. I have felt welcomed. I have felt valued. I have felt at home. And thus, I have become a Quaker.