Terrance Klein

The poem doesn rsquo t require explanation though some might be surprised to hear such a somber sound from Robert Frost I have been one acquainted with the night I have walked out in rain mdash and back in rain I have outwalked the furthest city light nbsp I have looked down the saddest city lane

Alzheimer’s. Racist. Proposal. Pregnancy. Cancer. Words are not weak. They constantly rewrite our scripts.

I know the sound of despondency I hear a lot of it in confession People come to acknowledge their sins but as their story unfolds they can rsquo t help but to express a dejected soul one wounded over some intractable relationship It rsquo s always a relationship Despondency would seem to mak

A reflection for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, by the Rev. Terrance Klein

Saturday 7 p m Though neither of us yet knows ineluctable forces are already moving young Anthony and me toward our terrifying rendezvous I have baptisms after the Spanish language Mass Gregorio has lit the large Paschal Candle which stands on its impressive sculpted stand near the font Four

We know nothing of Lila rsquo s parents We meet her in a home for migrant workers where for the most part she is ignored and neglected In the opening words of nbsp Lila nbsp Marilynne Robinson rsquo s new novel ldquo The child was just there on the stoop in the dark hugging herself against

My Mother can still recite the blessing in German nbsp She learned it as a child for New Year rsquo s Day when folks in Rush County in central Kansas would go from house to house offering a benediction in return for food drink or coinIch w nsche Euch Gl ck zum neuen Jahr Gesundheit Frie

No one can love us like family, and no one can hurt like family.

One soldier and then another imitated the one who came among us as an infant.

‘Deeper than woman complementing man, Mary is human, as utterly particular and fragile as any one of us.’ A reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Advent.