"Not for irksome toil but for delight God made us"

I must confess that I often feel overwhelmed by all the activism I'm involved with, not to mention the assaults on my moral sense that I experience daily and sometimes hourly when reading about the demented man in the White House and his shameless MAGA henchmen. I am grateful that I am called to do important social justice work at this trying time for our nation and the world, but sometimes I need a break. I need what  Saundra Dalton-Smith calls "sacred rest" in her helpful book of the same title. 

Yesterday my "sacred rest" time consisted of a stroll through Huntington Gardens with a dear friend named Robert who is a therapist and a landscape gardener. He is  a joy to be around  because he has a beautiful heart as well as a wealth of knowledge about plants. We celebrated his 82 birthday and talked about many things from politics to spirituality, and also about workaholism, something we both struggle with. 

Huntington Gardens is a perfect place for recovering workaholics. It has an amazing variety of garden types to engage with: desert, English, Japanese, Chinese, tropical, and more. There are also water features to charm the eye and sooth the soul: a Japanese pagoda overlooking a pond, a Chinese garden with a small lake, and an abundance of waterfalls. The landscape gardeners at the Huntington are masters at the art of displaying nature's beauty. 

During our latest visit to the Huntington, we went to a plant sale and I was thrilled when I saw a plant I'd been looking for: white sage, salvia apiara, meaning bee-attracting sage.  This plant is sacred to the Chumash and is used for "smudging"--a ceremony in which the smoke from burning sage is used for healing. A Tongva leader told us that if you buy bundles of sage, it loses its spiritual potency. It must be gathered and shared for free to have healing powers. The same might be said for many other aspects of life.

Robert and I weren't pressed for time so we spent several hours  "saunterring"--one of my favorite words for leisurely walking. This word derives from the French "sainte terre" ("holy land") and refers to pilgrims who "saunter" to holy places. Pilgrims aren't in a hurry. They can take time to smell the roses and praise God. They also have time to share stories, as is evident from Chaucer's  Canterbury Tales. (The Huntington has a priceless Ellesmere manuscript of this classic work.) Sharing stories is what makes us fully human.

I am feeling the need for more "sacred rest" time like my bi-monthly visits to the Huntington. Gardening can be a time of sacred rest if I am not under pressure to "get the work done." If I am my best self, I "play in the dirt" for as long as it's enjoyable and then move on. This approach brings to mind the famous hymn "In the Garden."

1. I come to the garden alone,
   While the dew is still on the roses,
   And the voice I hear falling on my ear
   The Son of God discloses.
   • Refrain:
     And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
     And He tells me I am His own;
     And the joy we share as we tarry there,
     None other has ever known.
2. He speaks, and the sound of His voice
   Is so sweet the birds hush their singing,
   And the melody that He gave to me
   Within my heart is ringing.
3. I’d stay in the garden with Him,
   Though the night around me be falling,
   But He bids me go; through the voice of woe
   His voice to me is calling.

When I am pottering in the garden, I often feel that deep connection with Spirit that  C. Austin Miles beautifully described in this timeless hymn written in 1912. I feel it not in my head, but in my hands and in my heart as I feel the damp dirt and the sunlight--the elements that plants use to grow in a miraculous process we call photosynthesis. The more I study, contemplate, and experience life, in its biological complexity and unfathomable beauty, the more I am in awe of its Creator.

One caveat: as soon as I "work" in the garden, I lose my connection with Spirit. This happens when the "workaholic" demon takes over and tempts me "to get the work done,"

I am reminded of what Adam told Eve in Milton's Paradise Lost. Eve suggests to Adam that could garden more efficiently if they work apart since being together, they are often tempted to dawdle. Adam responds that being apart, they are more likely to be tempted by the devil. Besides, he says, "not for irksome toil but for delight God made us" (IX, 241).

I love that line and all that it implies: the perfect antidote to workaholism is delight.

I have been reflecting on the things that delight me. Being with friends, sauntering, reading and writing poetry, writing in my blog, taking naps. These are some of my "favorite things." I am writing this to remind myself that I need to focus more on delight and less on "irksome toil."

What is it that brings you delight? What are your "favorite things?" How do you think God feels when you experience delight? 

Let me conclude with a poem I wrote over 40 years ago when I first became a Quaker and was living in West Philly.  "Surrender Garden" alludes to the "Surrender Group" that was started in Princeton Meeting by a Taoist Quaker elder named Herrymon Maurer. I was part of this group which was inspired by AA, only it was for "ego-holics" rather than alcoholics. Surrendering meant surrendering to one's Higher Power and avoiding ego-holism, of which workaholism is a symptom. The cure is to to connect with the Way, the Truth, and the Life, otherwise known as the Tao or Inward Light, to which this poem points. 

The Surrender Garden

(for Wendell Berry)

I farm a room-sized plot of earth
where once a factory stood.
In spring, I'm met by eager volunteers--
onions and leeks, Swiss chard and kale
green and sweet as those in paradise.

But as I turn the soil for the first time,
bricks the size and shape of potatoes
stick in my digger's stubborn teeth.
My brow sweats. My winter-weary muscles ache.
I feel the effects of the fall.

My seeds are scattered to the sound
of kids and cars, trolleys and boom boxes.
I use my hands instead of a digger
because I love to mold and stroke the earth,
to feel it touch my skin.
I sit in my garden like a kid in a sandbox
and think of my Greek grandfather
for whom gardening was no game.

With the sun and rains
weeds rise up like angry peasants
insisting on their squatter's rights.
I can't blame them.
I've been an absentee.
Down on my knees, I make a space
for my seedlings as I pull the weeds
carefully by the roots,
roots that go on and on
like my compulsions and obsessions.
This is the work that never seems to end,
the work my father and his father handed down.

Some evenings I come here simply to sit alone,
and watch things grow.

It's quiet and still as a church.
At the far end of the garden
a woman waters her flowers,
and the smell of wet earth rises
like a prayer, an offering,
into the darkening sky.

Philadelphia, 1985

Being Blessed by the Black Community and by Pastors Kerwin and Madelyn Manning

I have been reflecting on how blessed I feel by my connection with the Black community of Pasadena. Jill has been connected with this community since the 1990s when she moved to Pasadena and apprenticed herself to John Perkins, an amazing African American religious and Civil Rights  leader who founded the Christian Community Development Association (CCD). She moved into the Harambee Center which was started by Perkins in what was the most dangerous and gang-ridden part of Pasadena. The goal of the Harambee Center was to foster youth development, education, arts, leadership formation, and Christian discipleship. Perkins became Jill's mentor.  For decades she has lived in the heart of the Black community, formed deep friendships, became active with the Interdenominational Ministerial Alliance (IMA, the oldest association of Black pastors in the greater Pasadena area, and earned their respect and love. 

When I married Jill 15 years ago, a Black pastor told me: "When you married Jill, you also married the city of Pasadena." 

These words proved prophetic since over the years I have come to love Pasadena,  and especially Northwest Pasadena, the most diverse area of our city. For the last ten years Jill and I have been working with residents of the N. Fair Oaks area, once a thriving Black Main Street, that has suffered decline because of discriminatory policies. This work has culminated in the City's decision to name this area "The Black Legacy District" and to adopt almost all the community's recommendations for revitalization. 

This brings me to an event that Jill and I attended this week: the joyful celebration 25 years of service by two of the most loving and dynamic pastors I know, Kerwin and Madelyn Manning (shown here with us). Their service to God and people and our city is always inspiring.

The event took place at the fancy Noor restaurant, with a couple of hundred people in attendance, all dressed to the nines. Attendees included church members and friends of the Mannings, like Jill and me.

Pastor Kerwin has played a key role in our city, stranding up for righteous causes like police accountability and affordable housing.

He is always a joy to be around and makes you feel loved. He's not only a gifted preacher, he's also very funny. He likes to joke that he loves his wife with all his heart--and his kidney and spleen and intestines, etc. He invited a Black comedian named Broderick Rice to Emcee and he had us rolling in the aisles with laughter, making fun of the quirks of Black pastors.

We also heard music from a praise band called "Salty Chips" and a gifted pianist named Darin Atwater.

People who knew and served under Pastor Manning gave beautiful and moving testimonials. They described him as someone who always encouraged them to find their gifts and do what God was calling them to do. Others spoke of his kindness and love. Pastor Kerwin is a true man of God and follower of Jesus Christ, an embodiment of Good News.

Pastor Kerwin is the Senior Pastor—affectionately known as the “Head Coach”—of Pasadena Church, a vibrant multi‑racial, multi‑ethnic congregation committed to living out God’s purposes in the city and beyond.

He likes to say that he has a congregation of 186,000 people--the population of Altadena and Pasadena. He sees his ministry as not only serving his church community, but also the cities where his church is located. He loves Pasadena/Altadena and demonstrates his love in countless ways, such as helping victims of the Eaton Canyon fire.

A dynamic preacher and gifted worship leader, he has ministered globally in settings ranging from university chapels to international conferences, with ongoing work in South Africa, Japan, Cuba, and other nations.

Born and raised in Toledo, Ohio, Pastor Manning earned his B.A. in Religion from Anderson University and has served the wider Church of God through numerous national leadership roles, including President of the National Inspirational Youth Convention and longtime Chair of the Clergy Community Coalition of Greater Pasadena.

Since 2001, he has led Pasadena Church alongside his wife and ministry partner, Madelyn. They are the proud parents of Madison Denise and lovingly honor the memory of their daughter Morgan Danielle.

Morgan Manning died at age 14 from cardiac arrest caused by CPVT (Catecholaminergic Polymorphic Ventricular Tachycardia) — a rare genetic disorder that disrupts the heart’s electrical system.

After Morgan’s passing in 2017, the Mannings created A Piece of My Heart Foundation in 2018 to support CPVT research and raise awareness. They also took immediate, practical action to protect other children: upon learning that Pasadena Unified School District middle schools lacked Automated External Defibrillators (AEDs), they purchased AEDs — along with training and maintenance — for all eight middle schools. Their decision was intentional and deeply personal, as Morgan died just before graduating 8th grade.

Their work has since inspired the district to expand AED access across all campuses, turning their grief into a life‑saving legacy for other families.

Because of their deep faith and love, the Mannings turned a personal tragedy into a life-saving ministry. I can't help loving them!

In memory of Jean Lester, a faithful and beloved Friend

This week I learned that Jean Lester, a dear friend and a beloved member of Orange Grove Meeting, passed away at the age of 95. A few years ago I described her as the "glue that holds our meeting together."

She was always very supportive of me and the work that Jill and I are doing around social justice. She was a member of our Meeting's Peace and Social Concerns Committee and faithfully attended our Quaker bible study: even though she didn't believe in miracles, she loved the teachings of Jesus and practiced his most important commandment: to love everyone.  For me her most memorable vocal ministry was a quote from Father Greg Boyle: “forgive everyone everything.”

She was a people person and loved to party. She hosted pool parties at her home every year that we always looked forward to. We first learned of her illness in May when she had to leave my birthday party because she wasn't feeling well.

I did an AI search and would like to share what I learned about Jean's faithful life as a Friend. It's remarkable how AI captured so many details about her life and even described her character with surprising accuracy. I was also surprised that what I wrote about her in my blog was included.

Jean Lester has been a deeply valued member of the Quaker community in Pasadena and a longtime member of Orange Grove Friends Meeting. Her life reflects many of the central Quaker testimonies: faithfulness, peace, equality, service, compassionate listening, and a commitment to putting spiritual values into practice.

Jean was born Jean Fuller in Milford, Ohio. She attended Western College for Women in Oxford, Ohio, graduating in 1952. She remained connected with her college community throughout her life. A 2021 Western College alumni publication described Jean as doing well and continuing to enjoy reading, home projects, tennis, and participation in Quaker worship with her husband, Cliff.

In 1957 Jean married Herbert Clifford “Cliff” Lester Jr. They had met through the American Friends Service Committee (AFSC) while participating in an AFSC workcamp in Mexico. They eventually made their home in Southern California and raised four children: Susan, Jack, Carole, and Jane. Cliff, who died in 2024, was also a longtime and beloved member of Orange Grove Meeting.

Jean's commitment to Quaker service extended well beyond her local meeting. She served on the board of the American Friends Service Committee. The AFSC's 1992 annual report lists Jean Lester among its national board members, reflecting her significant involvement in one of the Religious Society of Friends' most important organizations devoted to peace, justice, and humanitarian service.

She was also active in Pacific Yearly Meeting. In 2002, Jean was among the Friends serving as representatives to the AFSC for Pacific Yearly Meeting, helping connect Friends in Southern California and elsewhere with AFSC's work for peace and social justice.

At Orange Grove Meeting, Jean took on important responsibilities in the spiritual life of the community. In 2017 she served as Clerk of Worship and Ministry. In that role she helped support the spiritual growth of Friends and encouraged participation in retreats, workshops, and other activities that strengthened the life of the Meeting. She also participated in Quaker workshops on spiritual practice, including a 2016 workshop on vocal ministry.

Jean's commitment to social justice was not simply institutional. She personally accompanied people who were vulnerable and marginalized. In 2019, LAist reported on Orange Grove Friends who visited people held at the Adelanto Detention Facility. Jean was one of the Quaker volunteers making those visits. She and another Friend met with an immigrant detainee who had little opportunity to communicate with the outside world. Their presence offered something simple but profoundly important: human companionship and compassionate listening.

Those qualities—listening, compassion, honesty, and a willingness to help people work through difficult situations—were especially evident in Jean's life at Orange Grove Meeting. In a 2018 tribute to the Meeting, Anthony Manousos described Jean as “the glue holding our meeting together.” He wrote that she was deeply committed to Orange Grove Meeting, sought to resolve conflicts in a loving way, and was an exceptionally compassionate listener while also being honest about her own feelings.

That description captures something essential about Jean's contribution. Her ministry was not necessarily one of public recognition or dramatic gestures. Rather, it was the ministry of presence: listening carefully, helping people find common ground, encouraging the Meeting when it struggled, and reminding Friends of the spiritual center that holds a community together.

Jean's life also illustrates the way Quaker faith can move naturally between worship and service. Her work with Orange Grove Meeting, Pacific Yearly Meeting, and AFSC demonstrates a consistent concern for peace, justice, spiritual community, and the dignity of every person.

For generations of Friends, Jean Lester has represented an important dimension of Quaker life: the quiet strength of a person who listens deeply, cares genuinely, and remains committed to community even when relationships become difficult.

Her legacy at Orange Grove Meeting is therefore not simply a list of offices held or organizations served. It is found in the people she listened to, the conflicts she helped heal, the vulnerable people she accompanied, and the spiritual community she helped sustain.

Jean Lester's life reminds us that one of the most powerful forms of leadership is often quiet: to listen, to care, to remain faithful, and to help a community hold together in love.

A Great Cloud of Witnesses

It has been a long time since I have written reflective essays in my blog. For the past few years I have mainly posted talks I've given, or announcements, but not anything personal. I have been feeling that something is missing from my life as well as from this blog so I started reviewing my early blog entries with the help of my friend Cody Lowry.

I first encountered Cody when I was a youth coordinator for the Quakers in the 1990s. Cody was twelve and an indefatigable talker with ideas about everything, much as I was at his age. He was also so unconventional he didn't thrive in school. Instead he devoted his life to music and spirituality and making people happy. He also struggled with addiction, but now is sober and wiser, thanks be to God. Cody is a true Friend who is more in tune with the Spirit than most Quakers I know, including myself. Quirky,  kind, unconventionally brilliant, and extremely creative, he plays the ukelele and loves to regale people with songs, most of which he has composed  himself. He has a fabulous voice and can sing Mozart arias (Papagena being his favorite role) as well as folk tunes. I find him an utter joy to be around. That's why I hired him to transcribe my blog. I eagerly look forward to weekly encounters with him. 

As I worked in the garden this morning, I was reflecting on the challenges of being 77. My body is no longer as limber as it used to be. I can work in the garden only for an hour or two before my lower back begins to protest. I walk with Jill for half an hour in the evening, and need to seat on a bench halfway through my walk. One of the reasons I love my electric bike is that I don't experience any pain and can ride as much as I like. I feel as if I am in the 20s, not my 70s, when I am coasting uphill at 20 mph on my bike!

Another challenge of aging is the loss of dear friends and loved ones. I have placed pictures of some of them on my desk and feel grateful and wistful as I look up at them and they look down at me. 

Before me is a picture of dear Kathleen of blessed memory. We are standing together surrounded by beautiful young Togvan girls from the Methodist youth group. When I turned 55, Kathleen asked me what I wanted. After pausing to think about it, I  said, "Actually, what I'd like is for the Togvan youth group to come and dance at my birthday party." Knowing me well, Kathleen just smiled and said, "Fine." And she made it happen!

I'd seen these youth dance at a Methodist retreat on Catalina Island and will never forget how beautifully they sang and danced as we lined up on the beach and Pastor Kathleen renewed our baptism by sprinkling us with holy sea water  When these lovely girls danced my my birthday party, I felt as if I were transported to heaven. I later joked that Muslims believe that if you live a righteous life and are faithful to God, beautiful virgins will surround you in Paradise, but if you are married to a Methodist pastor, you can have that experience while you're still alive!

Kathleen and I were married 20 years and hardly a day goes by that I don't think of her with deep gratitude. She was my wife and soulmate and encouraged me to be my best self. She still does. She is one of the "great cloud of witnesses" mentioned in Hebrews 12:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.

Another witness is Father Chris Ponnet, smiling radiantly at me in a photo attached to a painting of a statue of John Greenleaf Whittier in front of the Methodist Church in Whittier, where Kathleen and I lived for seven blissful years. Whittier is one of my favorite Quakers since he was both a poet and an activist. This painting is right above my desk and a fit place for Father Chris' uplifting photo.

Father Chris passed away last year. He was a beloved member of ICUJP whom we honored this year with the George Regas Courageous Peacemaker Award. What a honor and a joy it was to have known him! He invited Jill and me to speak about affordable housing at the church he served and was incredibly kind and gracious. He often hosted ICUJP retreats at the St Camillus Center.  And I cherish memories of being at demonstrations with him and getting arrested. He lived his faith with integrity and joy. May God's peace be upon him!

Here's summary of his remarkable life:

Father Chris Ponnet (1957–2025) was a Roman Catholic priest, hospital chaplain, and social justice advocate whose four decades of ministry in Los Angeles blended pastoral care with a deep commitment to human dignity. Ordained in 1983 after studying at St. John’s Seminary, he became known for compassionate service to the sick, the dying, and the marginalized. For nearly 30 years he led the St. Camillus Center for Spiritual Care and directed Spiritual Care at LAC+USC Medical Center, guiding an interfaith chaplaincy team serving one of California’s largest public hospitals. His ministry included frontline care during the HIV/AIDS crisis, steadfast support during COVID‑19, outreach to immigrants and LGBTQ Catholics, and vocal advocacy against the death penalty, racism, and violence. Active in Pax Christi, Death Penalty Focus, and interfaith community rituals, Ponnet was widely respected as a bridge‑builder committed to justice, mercy, and compassionate presence.

Another picture that looks down on me is that of Joseph Prabhu, a dear friend I got to know through the Parliament of the World's Religions. We had very different backgrounds but somehow felt a deep spiritual connection. We worked together to promote interfaith understanding--he took a philosophical/theological approach and I was an activist. We complimented each in profound ways and had rich, deep conversations about politics and philosophy as we went on walks in the Huntington Gardens. 

When Joseph was dying of a brain tumor, he asked me to be accompany him during his final days. I would come to his home and he would tell me anecdotes about his life. He'd hoped to write a memoir about his amazing career but sadly his condition didn't allow him to do so. When he was confined to bed, I would sit by him and sometimes hold his hand and read him psalms. I felt blessed to be with him during his final days. When he asked me to give his eulogy, I felt it was an incredible honor to be singled out among all his distinguished friends and colleagues. Here is what I shared at the Holy Family Catholic Church in South Pasadena on October 24, 2021.  

Born and raised in India and educated in Germany, Britain as well as in the United States, Joseph was an internationally known scholar, professor, and activist. He took his work but not himself seriously. He had a great sense of humor and loved to tease so I’d like to share an anecdote he told me during his final days. Joseph was giving a lecture in Belgium and decided to visit his high school principal, a Jesuit priest named Father Hincq , who was living in Brussels.

 Father Hincq was gracious and showed Joseph his year books and talked about Joseph’s classmates. As Joseph was about to leave, he decided to tease his former teacher by saying, "Do you remember how you once spanked me?" Father Hincq replied with a smile, "Not once, Joseph, twice."

Joseph also like to tell irreverent stories about being Mother Teresa's altar boy. It gets blazingly hot in Calcutta and Joseph fainted during a worship service.  As he regained consciousness, he felt a slap on the face and heard Mother Teresa say, “What are you doing, boy. Wake up!”  

Despite these awkward moments, Joseph remained committed to Catholicism all his life, although for many years he attended All Saints Episcopal Church because of its work around social justice and peace.  Joseph was profoundly influenced by Raimon Panikkar, a theologian who distilled the best of Christian and Hindu religious ideas. Like Panikkar, Joseph remained deeply Catholic while finding inspiration and value in all faiths.

Joseph was a brilliant lecturer who taught at more than seventy universities either as visiting professor or as guest lecturer in Asia, Africa, Australia, Europe and the United States, including at the universities of California, Berkeley and Chicago. For fun, I looked up what students at Cal State LA said about him, and I think he would appreciate this telling comment by one of his students: “I must say I found some of Prof. Prabhu’s lectures slanted. Do not take everything he says as fact. He is crazy liberal, and it shows. Considering that I am conservative, we clashed. I still got an A.”

Another student warned: “Do not take his class of you don’t like to think for yourself... Prof. Prabhu really makes you think about what you think you already know.”

I can’t imagine a better recommendation for someone who taught in the Socratic mode. When Joseph retired, his colleagues gave him a gift he was proud to show off: a mug with the French painter David’s famous depiction of Socrates discussing the immortality of the soul with his students after he had drunk the hemlock. Only instead of Socrates’ face, the mug had Joseph’s!

Joseph’s colleagues honored him in another way, by creating the Joseph Prabhu Memorial Lectures for Peace and Justice. This was appropriate since Joseph was passionately committed to human rights, Gandhian nonviolence, and what John Cobb called “eco-civilization.”   In an article published in Today’s American Catholic in April 2021, Joseph wrote: “The interconnected challenges posed by climate change, economic inequality, racism, sexism, and militarism—to mention just the most pressing problems—demand our intelligent and thoughtful consideration and action.” In this essay, one of his last published works, Joseph lifted up two of his heroes: the German theologian Hans Kung and Pope Francis. https://www.todaysamericancatholic.org/2021/04/dreaming-with-hans-kung/

Besides being an activist, teacher and public intellectual, Joseph was deeply devoted to his family and to his wife Betty. I was very moved to see the tenderness between Joseph and Betty when he was recovering from brain surgery. During this time, he often spoke with pride and affection about his daughter Tara. Joseph raised her as a single father, and it wasn’t easy. But Betty confided to me with great feeling, “Tara was God’s gift to Joseph.” I’m sure Joseph would agree. And I’m sure that you all would agree that Joseph was God’s gift to us and to the world. He has left behind a legacy and an example that will inspire and challenge us  and generations to come.

Dear Joseph, I miss you terribly. I always think of you when I go for walks in the Huntington Garden, the ideal haven for philosophers, poets and peacemakers to "commingle irradiances" (to use a phrase from Milton's Paradise Lost). I know you'd be pleased that I have agreed to be chair of Interfaith Communities United for Justice and Peace, an organization you were involved with and loved. 

Another friend who looks down on me is David Hartsough. He is smiling and holding a bouquet of flowers--a fitting symbol for his life. He was one of the greatest Quaker peace activist of our time, and I had the honor of being his friend. Jill and I would often visit and stay at his home when we went to San Francisco. I will always cherish the great conversations we had about peace and justice work while eating his wife Jan's delicious cookies.

I'll talk more about David in another blog entry. Suffice to say for now, he continues to inspire me. In fact, his name came up this week when I was considering joining a delegation to go to Iran. Ann Wright reminded me that David traveled to Iran in early 2019 as part of a Code Pink peace delegation of 28 Americans. How awesome it would be to walk in the footsteps of my dear friend on a peacemaking journey to Iran next spring!

It's been a joy to spend time reflecting on these beloved friends who have finished their race and are looking down on me, cheering me on, as I approach my finish line. Who are the friends and loved ones who have finished their race and are cheering you on? I hope you can spend time as I have cherishing them in your heart. Let me close with one of my favorite quotes of William Penn: 

“Death is but crossing the world, as friends do the seas; they live in one another still.”

― William Penn, More Fruits of Solitude,