Dear great lathe of heaven, O foundry of souls, You churning, burning cosmos which has wrought me on the infinite loom of your celestial body. Spinning stars and indifferent stones: hear my prayer. Do not curse me to perish with all my dreams fulfilled....

What is this fire? A match, a wick, a flame. What is this place? Wood, and stone, and glass. Yet here we have gathered In this place Before this flame Making each holy By our presence here, together.

There once was a person named John Murray. He lived in England, and worked as a minister there. The congregation to which he belonged took religion very seriously. They believed in life after death, but they thought that almost everyone was going to have a terrible, horrible time after they died.

I send you out now, to share yourself with the world May its promise and complexity set your mind ablaze May you hold fast to what your life has taught you May you question everything And when you have changed the world, And the world has changed you, May you return again, to this place, And shar...

"Can faith equal faith? Do gods of one faith take care of the believers of other faiths? Who will protect my god when he falters and his faith fails? Do the gods of one faith take care of the gods of other faiths?" These questions all come from the poem "Faith," by Justin Chin. In the poem, the...

One day, a rabbit set out from the woods, carrying a question to all the other creatures that it met. The rabbit came first to a butterfly fluttering in an open field, and asked, "Friend butterfly, what can you tell me about the thing called 'god’?" The butterfly thought for a moment, and said,...

The world is a slippery sort of thing. It can be hard, very hard, to hold on to all the many pieces of life. In our days on this earth, we may try new ideas, new plans, new relationships, careers or places to live. No matter how many or how few sorts of things we devote our living to, we can be...

There was once a crow who was very hungry. Flying over the tops of the trees, it spotted a large, tasty-looking walnut growing from one of the tallest branches below. Seeing the makings of a fine supper, the crow swooped down and plucked the dangling walnut and held it triumphantly in its beak....

Does the match love the wick? Does the wick love the wax or the air it consumes? “Yes, without question.” To melt together, To burn together, To change together, The pieces of the candle must love each other. Though not necessarily wisely, and not necessarily well.