Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Parable of the Sower: Anyone with Two Ears Had Better Listen!

“Some seed fell along the path and was trampled underfoot; the birds of the sky at it up. Other seed fell on the rock; when it grew it withered because it lacked moisture. Still other seed fell among thorns; the thorns grew with it and choked it. Other seed fell on good earth and started producing fruit…(and Jesus said) Anyone here with two ears had better listen!” (Scholars’ Version, Luke 8)

A sermon preached July 16, 2017 at St. Richard's Episcopal Church, Winter Park, FL

The parable of the sower is one of the most widely repeated passages of scripture in the New Testament. It appears in all three of the synoptic Gospels, MK, LK and today’s lesson from MT, and it appears in the earliest gospel, the collection of sayings called the Gospel of Thomas. Given the multiple times it appears in the various gospels, the chances are very good that this passage actually came from Jesus as opposed to the many passages that reflect the needs and self-understandings of the early church.

Questions not answers

How do we know this is Jesus? To begin with, it comes in the form of a parable. Jesus is fond of this kind of teaching. The parables were a means for Jesus to communicate powerful lessons to his followers in ways they would comprehend while at the same time appearing innocuous and non-threatening to the ears of the Roman overlords who kept Jesus and the crowds he drew under regular surveillance.

Parables differed from the teachings about the Jewish law that one might encounter from the Pharisees and their rabbis with whom Jesus often interacted. For one thing, parables raise questions rather than providing answers. Jesus often sought to prompt people to engage in reflection even as he rarely told them what to think. Parables also invoke multiple possible responses as the parable of the sower readily illustrates: some of the seed falls on rocky ground, some of the seed is eaten by birds, some takes only shallow root and withers. Yet some grows and produces in abundance. Jesus constantly asks his listeners: Which one are you and why is that?  

Another detail that points toward Jesus is his use of the natural world as the audio-visual aid for delivering his message. Jesus clearly loves the flowers of the field and the birds of the air. While it is not clear whether this particular parable is original to Jesus or whether he simply adapted it from a common form of story passed around in the Greco-Roman world, Jesus often focuses on the capacity of the earth to bring forth abundance, a pattern which reflects the goodness and generosity of his Father in heaven who created everything that is – including us.

One last aspect that is common to Jesus’ teaching is his valuing of the common people whom he trusted to respond appropriately to his parables. The Westar Scholar’s Edition translates the last line of this passage this way: “Anyone here with two ears had better listen!” Bear in mind that this is the same teacher who praises the poor – who compose the vast majority of his homeland – as blessed. He calls them salt of the earth, light of the world. Clearly Jesus believes they are capable of understanding his parables. And in today’s Gospel, he calls them to become what they are capable of being as the children of G-d: living beings which grow, flourish and produce good fruit.

Paul’s Greek audience

To fully understand what Jesus is saying, it’s helpful to compare it very briefly
with what St. Paul offers us in today’s Epistle. Paul begins with the assertion that “There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Note the key element common to Paul’s thought: punishment and avoidance of punishment through believing. Paul then launches into a long dissertation on sins of the flesh versus life in the Spirit.

This division of the human being into a flesh which is largely sinful and a spirit which is holy is striking in its Greek philosophical overtones. The Greeks saw the human being as the corrupt realm of the flesh driven by our desires and appetites as well as the pure and perfect realm of the Spirit where an uncluttered reason reigns supreme. It’s pretty clear who Paul’s audience was and it is not the Galilean peasants Jesus is addressing.

Indeed, in this comparison it’s easy to recognize that while St. Paul was adept at constructing a religion about the Christ, a religion which focused on sin and salvation, punishment and its avoidance, death and resurrection, the truth is, Paul had never met Jesus. And while the ideas of St. Paul can be reconciled with those of Jesus if one really works at it, they are strikingly different in both their focuses and their goals.

If Paul were telling the parable of the sower, it would probably go something like this: The sower is Jesus. He has come to bring the Word to those wish to attain resurrection after death. It’s important to note that Paul does not presume that his listeners are already children of G-d. In the next verse after the excerpt we have read for today, he goes on to say that receiving the Spirit as a result of hearing the Word makes it possible for one to become an adopted child of G_d. By implication, that means we do not start as such, an understanding completely at odds with the Creation accounts of Genesis.

Every seed holds its own potential

But Jesus tells a different story. For Jesus the sower is G-d, the Creator, and the sowing of that seed takes place at the moment of our very creation. It is particularly important to note the symbolism of the seed here. Seeds are by definition life in its potential form. If a seed is properly planted and nourished, it sprouts and becomes a plant. With devoted care, the plant produces something of value – here the grain needed for one’s daily bread.  Bear in mind, this is the same Jesus who earlier in this gospel reminds us that it is by the fruits of our lives that people know who we truly are.

Jesus is not focused here on sin or salvation. He is not focused on divine punishment and how we avoid it. He is not talking about death and resurrection. And he does not presume that we must be adopted by G-d to become G-d’s children.

So what is Jesus talking about? Unfortunately, our excerpt from Matthew today leaves out about 8 verses in the middle of this passage that provide the key to understanding it. In verse 11 of this chapter, when his disciples ask Jesus to explain the parable, he begins with these words: “You have been given the privilege of knowing the secrets of the Kingdom of G-d...” While Paul is talking about sin and salvation, death and resurrection, Jesus’ parable is about the here and now, the way that each of us lives our lives as children of G-d, and the coming of the Kingdom of G-d.

So how does this kingdom come about? According to Jesus, it is the result of the willingness of each of us who bear the seed of our own individual humanity implanted in us at the moment of our creation to live into the best and highest version of ourselves that G_d has called us to become. Jesus regularly models that higher version of ourselves: healing the sick, giving to those who beg, turning the other cheek, forgiving your enemies. And he does so in a manner that is often self-sacrificing.

Let us remember that Jesus is Jewish, that Judaism has long taught that every human being is created a child of G-d born bearing the divine image. That’s the seed. Judaism also teaches that each of us is born with the potential to grow increasingly into the divine likeness. That’s the tending of the plant. And what happens if we are each faithful to the process of growth and development into the likeness of G_d? The parable of the sower tells us it is the great yield of which we are capable of producing. In short, the result is life in abundance, one of the marks of the Kingdom of G_d which Jesus asks us to pray each day will “come on Earth as in heaven.”

The Sower comes to the beach

Over the years as both a student and a teacher of world religions, I have come to believe that no spiritual path is worthy of serious consideration unless it has the capacity to do two things. One, it must have the capacity to enable people to transcend the vagaries of their daily lives, and two, it must have the capacity for those same people to collectively help transform the world in which they live. Absent either of those two capacities, a religion may be a lot of things but it is not ultimately a path worth following.

Now think about the mission statement of this church. Each Sunday we hear this proclamation of that mission: “We are here to discover G-d’s grace, to change our lives and to change the whole world.” Like the parable of the sower, it evidences a great deal of confidence in its hearers to respond to that calling from Jesus.  It is a spiritual path that aims at personal transcendence and social transformation. It is, in my view, a spiritual path worth following.

But is also a path that runs against the grain in a culture that accentuates individualism and measures human worth in terms of power and dollars and cents. And yet there are examples of transcendence and transformation around us every day if we are willing to see them. Indeed, if Jesus were telling this story today, it might go like this:

A woman and her family were at the beach enjoying a day of summer vacation. Suddenly the woman noticed that her three young sons were out in water over their heads and were frantically waving their hands and screaming. They had been caught in an undertow. Though the woman was not a good swimmer, she and other family members charged into the surf to try to rescue the boys. But the undertow was strong and soon nine people thrashed in water over their heads increasingly far from the shore

Other people on the shore had noticed what was happening. They began to form a line out into the surf holding hands, forming a human chain. Volunteers poured out across the beach and soon the human chain, with some members barely keeping their heads above water, reached the family and one by one pulled all nine of them to safety.

No doubt there were some who saw what was happening and simply said “It’s not my problem.” That’s the seed that fell on barren rock. There were others who started to join the chain but became afraid: “I don’t know how to swim, I might drown.” That’s the seed that sprouted but then died for lack of care. And yet others said, “Look, I’ve got things I need to do this afternoon. I don’t have time for this altruistic bit.” That’s the seed that gets choked out by noxious weeds.  

And yet, there were enough people who were able bodied, empathetic and willing to engage in what could well have proven a dangerous activity that resulted in the saving of a family on Panama City Beach, Florida last Saturday. They each transcended our cultural values of self-focus and in the end together transformed what could have been a serious tragedy into a story of human triumph.

By their fruits, we know them.

So now it is your turn to find yourself in the parable. Which one are you and why is that? What will you do with the seed that G-d has given you to nurture, tend and bring to production?  By what fruits will your life labors be known? Let me close with some advice from Jesus here: 

Anyone here with two ears had better listen!” AMEN.  

Harry Scott Coverston
Orlando, Florida

If the unexamined life is not worth living, surely an unexamined belief system, be it religious or political, is not worth holding.

Most things worth considering do not come in sound bites.

For what does G-d require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your G-d? (Micah 6:8, Hebrew Scriptures)

© Harry Coverston 2017


Sunday, June 11, 2017

Commemorating the Pulse Massacre: Prayers of the People

These are the Prayers of the People offered at tonight’s Taize liturgy to commemorate the events of the Orlando Pulse Massacre one year ago tomorrow. The responses of kyrie eleison (Lord, have mercy) were sung by the congregation after each verse of the prayers was read. The liturgy was held at St. Richard’s Episcopal Church, Orlando with 52 souls in attendance.

When we first heard the helicopters overhead
The first time we saw those awful images.
We remember how our anguished thoughts and prayers turned to those who had lost their loved ones. 
Tonight, our thoughts and prayers return to them.
Kyrie, kyrie eleison.  
Kyrie, kyrie eleison. 

We remember the 50 who died, each of them bearing your divine image
We recall how so many were just beginning lives of hopes and dreams.
We remember thinking how senseless this loss of human life was.
Tonight, our thoughts and prayers return to them
Kyrie, kyrie eleison.  
Kyrie, kyrie eleison. 

We remember those who survived.
We recall their heart-breaking stories.
We remember that their lives are forever scarred by those moments.
We know their lives will never be the same.
Tonight, our thoughts and prayers are offered for them
Kyrie, kyrie eleison.  
Kyrie, kyrie eleison. 

We remember the outpouring of support for our city 
from all over the world
We recall people standing in lines to donate blood
We remember courageous officers, medics and doctors 
fighting to save lives
We remember the vigil with its half million candles
surrounding the lake in the heart of our city with healing light.
Tonight, our prayers of gratitude are offered for them.  

          Kyrie, kyrie eleison.  Kyrie, kyrie eleison. 

We remember the pain we have felt.
We recall the bereavement and bitterness of the aftermath.
But we remember that you are a God of redemption and restoration.
Help us forgive those who cause such trauma in our world, that we may find release in that forgiveness.
Tonight, our prayers to be forgiving are offered to you.  

          Kyrie, kyrie eleison.  Kyrie, kyrie eleison. 

We remember that you love the world you have created, O God.
We recall you sent your Son to bring reconciliation and salvation.
We remember that your Spirit permeates all of Creation.
Help us bring your comfort and peace to all.
Make us instruments of your peace.
Tonight, our prayers of hopefulness are offered to you.  

Kyrie, kyrie eleison.  Kyrie, kyrie eleison.   

[Adapted from Prayers for 9-11, Pastor Jimmy Orr, Leigh Park Baptist, Havant, UK]

(Said in unison)

God, Creator, bring us new life. 
Jesus, Redeemer, renew and strengthen us. 
Holy Spirit, Sustainer, guide us and give us your peace. AMEN.


Harry Scott Coverston

Orlando, Florida

If the unexamined life is not worth living, surely an unexamined belief system, be it religious or political, is not worth holding.

Most things worth considering do not come in sound bites.

For what does G-d require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your G-d? (Micah 6:8, Hebrew Scriptures)

© Harry Coverston 2017

A Litany for Remembering a Massacre

This is the litany recited at the Taize liturgy at St. Richard’s Episcopal Church, Winter, Park, Sunday, June 11, 2017. The liturgy commemorated the massacre at Orlando’s Pulse Nightclub one year ago tomorrow.

O God, in whose image all people are made,
Have mercy on us.

O Jesus, healer and lover of all souls,
Have mercy on us.

O Holy Spirit, source of courage and hope,
Have mercy on us.

Holy Trinity, divine community, gather us as one,
Have mercy on us.

We weep as Rachel for her children,
Have mercy on us.

We weep for the innocent victims of Orlando and everywhere,
Have mercy on us.

We weep for the perpetrators of violence and hate,
Have mercy on us.

We weep over our country and our world as Jesus wept over Jerusalem,
Have mercy on us.

We pray healing for those wounded in body or spirit,
Have mercy on us.

We long for mercy and truth to make a home with each other where righteousness and peace embrace,
Have mercy on us.

Help us to end a culture of violence and the fetish of guns,
Have mercy on us.

Inspire our earthly rulers to break open old arguments and act for the common good,
Have mercy on us.

Lead us in examining our own consciences for the remnants of prejudice and hate within us,
We fervently pray, O God.

Give your LGBT children the courage to be and the equal dignity of every human being,
We fervently pray, O God.

Keep us from acting out of our fear to brand others as enemies,
We fervently pray, O God.

Protect our brothers and sisters of Islam, that they may live in the peace which is their true proclamation,
We fervently pray, O God.

Surround us with your loving arms, draw us together across lines of religion, sexual orientation, and all those many ways we separate ourselves from one another,
We fervently pray, O God.

Inspire us to act in ways that bring all people closer to your promised reign of peace,
We fervently pray, O God.

For the dead we pray,
Lord have mercy.

For the wounded we pray,
Christ have mercy.

For a transformed world we pray,
Lord have mercy.

(Adapted from A Litany After the Orlando Massacre, The Rev.  Michael Hopkins, President, Integrity, the LBGTQ ministry of the Episcopal Church, 1998-2003)

Harry Scott Coverston
Orlando, Florida

If the unexamined life is not worth living, surely an unexamined belief system, be it religious or political, is not worth holding.

Most things worth considering do not come in sound bites.

For what does G-d require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your G-d? (Micah 6:8, Hebrew Scriptures)

© Harry Coverston 2017

Monday, May 29, 2017

When Earth’s Axis Shifted Under My Feet

Forty three years ago this weekend, a young man said something to me that was totally unexpected. 

It came from out of the blue. It left me breathless. And it would change my life forever.

Under the Influence 

He was my big brother in the Kappa Sigma fraternity at the University of Florida, the same fraternity my father and the uncle I was named for had belonged to. The back of my jersey read Covey 3. He was working that summer in South Florida but had come up for the weekend. So I took him to a party thrown by the staff of the Alligator, the student paper at UF for which I was a reporter.

Alligator parties were notoriously industrial strength and this one was no exception. There was no shortage of booze but that was hardly all that was available. At the time the region had its own brand of locally grown marijuana called Gainesville Green readily available from the Micanopy Marijuana Grower’s League just 10 miles down the highway from campus. 

This night’s supply was particularly potent. We called it Gangster Weed. 

We’d only been partying about a half hour when I noticed that my big brother wasn’t doing so well. He was laughing at inappropriate times and occasionally crying for no apparent reason. The woman I was living with at the time who had hosted the party was worried and suggested I might want to take him upstairs just in case he was going to get sick. 

We went upstairs and I had him lie down. I told him I’d be right downstairs if he needed me, and then went to the door. “I’ll check back on you in a few minutes.”

“Don’t leave me alone,” he said. “Please. Stay here with me a little while. Please.” 

So I stayed. And within minutes, a lifetime of repression from living in the gall bladder of the South, Augusta, Georgia, (“They call it Disgusta back home,” he said) came bubbling up. 

At one point he began talking about a high school football player, a classmate whom he had admired greatly. Seems that one night this star athlete had wrapped his car around a big live oak in the front yard of my big brother’s grandfather’s house. 

“I’m really sorry,” I said. 

He went on to describe visiting his grave to mourn but always when no one else was around. I just listened as he told me the story between sobs. After he had calmed down, I asked, “So what is going on with you tonight? And why are you telling me all these things?” 

“Because tonight I realized that I love you as much as I loved him.”

I swear the axis of the Earth shifted at that moment.

Bear in mind this was 1974. Fraternity brothers did not tell each other that they loved each other. That kind of talk could get you kicked out of your house in a heartbeat. 

Or worse.

“Do you think you can sleep a little bit?” I asked. “I need to go back down to the party.” He said no but he thought he could drive home at that point. I was dubious but he persisted and soon thereafter he came downstairs, made his apologies and took off.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. And out he went into the night.

I was absolutely wrecked. And I proceeded to get even more wrecked the minute the door closed behind him.

He Wreaked of Establishment

Truth be told, it had taken me awhile to even like this young man. He came from a wealthy family in Georgia and his clothes and car evidenced that. He had come to UF by way of Mercer University, a snotty private school in central Georgia. Worse yet, his family was Baptist!

They belonged to the Augusta Country Club of Masters Tournament fame. He spoke of watching Arnold Palmer practice his putting game during the Masters across the brick wall separating his home from the neighbors’. His house was at the top of a street named Chipandy Drive on which his developer father had built all the lavish homes of up and coming Augustans. (Andy’s older brother’s name was Chip.) Andy was the baby of the family, boyishly handsome with beautiful skin, golden blonde hair, brown eyes. 

He wreaked of Establishment. 

Indeed, he was everything I was not – oldest child of a professional middle-class family who had to rely on scholarships, loans and part-time work to attend college. I’d come to UF by way of a community college, hailing from a small town in Central Florida, completely at home in the woods where I grew up. And there were few places where I felt more uncomfortable than country clubs - where Rotarians and Kiwanis Clubs met – except for Baptist churches. 

Truth be told, in the summer of 1974, I was more of a fading hippie than anything else. Anything that even remotely smelled of Establishment was suspect in my book.

But over time, I began to realize that first impressions were not reliable when it came to this young man. He was soft-spoken and had developed a highly introverted interactive style over his formative years in Georgia. This, no doubt, served to protect his incredibly gentle spirit, thoughtful mind and the good heart that he only showed to those he trusted. And he had come to Florida precisely to escape the very things I had wrongly judged him for – the racist, classist Baptist matrix he had endured so much of his life. 

I knew he had grown to like me despite my hippie self-righteousness. And I soon decided I was lucky to have him for a big brother, the other possibilities largely being the hive minded business and pharmacy majors common to most fraternities of the 1970s when being Greek on America’s college campuses was decidedly not cool. Indeed, I had joined primarily to please my father. 

But over the months, I began to realize my feelings about him were not simply fraternal. And I had absolutely no idea of how to understand or to deal with what I was feeling. 

I was dating a beautiful, smart young woman I’d met in community college. We dreamed dreams of my becoming a lawyer and us both going to work in state government, living in one of the many neo-antebellum miniature Taras dotting the hills surrounding Tallahassee and raising little Stepford children. 

I loved her deeply. But more importantly, this was the way things were supposed to be. 

But they wouldn’t be that way. It was a hard lesson to learn that love alone would not be enough. My girlfriend figured it out first and left me right out of college. She ultimately did realize all of her dreams but with another young man from another fraternity. The unraveling of the dreams she and I had shared began that Memorial Day weekend with the revelations of an intoxicated big brother at an Alligator party. 

By the point, Andy told me that he loved me, I realized that I was falling in love with him as well. I denied it. I told myself it wasn’t true -  it couldn’t be true. But that night I was brought face-to-face with my darkest secrets.

Now what?

Twice in as many days.

My roommate and I went down to the pool at the apartment complex the next day to swim. I’ve often found that swimming is one of the few comforts available for raging hangovers and Lord knows I had a real whopper that next day. 

She asked what had happened upstairs. “Everyone was worried about him,” she said. 

“With good reason,” I said. 

I told her the story of what had happened. She asked what I thought about it. I said, “I am just praying he won’t remember any of it. He was pretty loaded.”
Just at that moment as if on cue, up walked Andy. My friend swam to the other end of the pool. 

“I’m just going to leave you two to talk,” she said. 

“Thanks a lot,” I muttered under my breath.

“So you got home OK last night,” I said. 

“Yep. I told you I was all right to drive.”

Figuring it better to not postpone the inevitable, I plunged right in: “So do you remember what you told me last night? 


“All of it?” 


“And did you mean it….” (gulp….)


Once again, I felt the axis of the Earth shifting beneath me. Twice in as many days.

What Advice Would You Have Given Yourself?

Now, flash forward 43 years. 

Saturday night over Thai food and Malbec at one of our favorite neighborhood places, we remembered that night long ago and the 43 years since then. They have been challenging to say the least. 

We have lived apart from each other five different times for a year or more. There have been other people in our lives, both male and, in my case, female as well. Despite Woody Allen’s attempt at humor that having your sexual orientation fall close to the middle of the scale doubles your chances for a date on Friday night, truth be told, it can be very, very confusing to be bisexual in a homophobic culture like our own. The pressure is always to pretend that the part of yourself that doesn’t meet the norm doesn’t exist. 

It took me awhile to figure out who I was and who I loved. Thank G-d for Andy’s patience.

We survived the loss of our home to a hurricane resulting in a painful four year process of rebuilding. We have moved numerous times all over the state from north to south and back to central as well as across the country to California and back. We learned to endure the creative hostility of his Baptist parents even as my own family embraced Andy from the beginning as one of their own. 

Seven years ago we celebrated the end of America’s discriminatory marriage laws that allowed us to finally become legally married,  an event that took place on the steps of the U.S. Supreme Court under the inscription “Equal Justice Under Law.”  (“We’re here to get ours,” this former lawyer remarked) 

Like many older gay couples, we now celebrate two anniversaries, one for when we agreed to be a couple and the other for when we got legal. Indeed, it was the concern for legal issues from hospital visitations to the ability to make legal decisions at the end of life that prompted our decision to get married. 

As we laughed and occasionally lapsed into painful silence as we remembered our 43 improbable years together, I asked a question that had been on my mind a lot recently. “If you could go back and give some advice to your then 21 year old self that night, what would it be?” 

Andy agreed to answer it only if I did the same. Between the two of us, here’s what came up in the conversation:

·         Be patient. You have a lot of growing up yet to do. A lot! This will be painful at times. Sometimes it may seem like there is no way ahead. But you can make it through if you will work at it.

·         You are going to have to figure a lot of things out on your own. There are no books for you to read and there are no public examples for you to emulate. If anything, you’ve been taught to lie and hide your lives together. Your love will be anathema to most people for at least the first half of your lives together. You really are on your own. But you can get through. 

·         Hold onto each other. There are some major challenges that are coming that you have no way of knowing yet. They will shake you and your relationship to your core. People are going to be petty and nasty to you because they don’t understand you and don’t want to. But you will have each other.

·         You’ll need to be careful. Fearful people can be cruel. Don’t presume the best of people, particularly those you don’t know. Your lives could be in danger. Never underestimate them. Fear and ignorance make for a toxic cocktail.

·         Ignore the people who arrogantly presume to speak for G-d at your expense as best you can. You’ll find your own way to G-d’s presence only to discover G_d was there waiting for you all along. And you’ll realize that their willingness to invoke the powers of heaven to vilify and destroy you are little more than an attempt to baptize their own fears and prejudices. They point toward gods not worth worshipping and religions not worth respecting. 

·         It’s going to take a long, long time to get to the point where your love for each other will feel solid, stable and mature. You’re engaged in a life-long process of on-job-training here. But your relationship can get there if you just keep trying. 

·         Don’t look now but before it’s all over there will be a number of people who will look to you for a model of how such a relationship can make it against the odds. You may not have asked for this role but this was never just about you. Take that responsibility seriously.

·         Finally, don’t give up. Ever. Your love is worth fighting for. It’s worth suffering for. It’s worth waiting for its full blossoming into something absolutely wonderful. 

So, Would I Have Walked Away?

Of course, it’s easy to see these things in retrospect. Hindsight is invariably 20/20. Perhaps it’s better we did not know all of what was to come that night 43 years ago. I’m not sure either of us could have begun to comprehend it, much less have been willing to engage it. My guess is that despite my tendency to enjoy a challenge, had I known what was coming I might well have walked away. 

But here at the other end of that 43 years, I can say that knowing everything I know now, I’d do it all over again. 

I am who I am today largely because I was willing to undertake an unlikely journey with my fraternal big brother that night and stay the course all these years, however imperfectly. I am who I am because he was able to love me into adulthood and wait for me to work through all my many demons even as I afforded him the same opportunities in return. 

As a result, I have known love, understanding and forgiveness that I could never have predicted and perhaps did not always deserve. I have had the unflinching support and inevitably wise counsel of a life partner who has believed in me through all the many undertakings into which I have plunged both of our lives and who has helped me to survive the many disappointments I have met along the way. 

This love has proven to be the most precious component of an unusual, unpredictable life that has been chock full of love, laughter, surprises and sorrows. A love like this is a rare jewel. I never take it for granted. And for this love of my life, I will always be profoundly grateful. 

Happy 43d Anniversary, Andy. This day I give thanks to a very generous G-d for the gift of you and our lives together. 

Harry Scott Coverston
Orlando, Florida

If the unexamined life is not worth living, surely an unexamined belief system, be it religious or political, is not worth holding.

Most things worth considering do not come in sound bites.

For what does G-d require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your G-d? (Micah 6:8, Hebrew Scriptures)

© Harry Coverston 2017