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 they sang and danced as Kathleen renewed our baptism by sprinkling us with holy sea water as we lined up on the beach. 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 from a painting of the 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' 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 life 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 term 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 when I was considering joining a delegation to go to Iran. I was reminded 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 am approaching 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:
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