More from A Pilgrim's Platen

This Is My Body

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The Eucharist, resplendent in its simplicity, stands as a divine enigma wrapped in the most unassuming of veils. Beneath the humble appearance of bread and wine lies the inexhaustible wellspring of God’s boundless love: a love that transcends time and space, reaching from Heaven to earth with a tender, infinite embrace. In this sacred rite, time itself is suspended, collapsing into a singular moment where the eternal mingles with the temporal. Here, in this most holy sacrament, I am invited into the timeless drama of salvation, a mystery not simply to be remembered but to be entered, body and soul. The bread, seemingly common, and the wine, with its familiar crimson hue, are transformed before my very eyes. What my senses perceive as ordinary becomes, in truth, extraordinary. This is My Body, This is My Blood . Words so simple yet so profound they echo throughout the corridors of eternity.
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To See The Sun No More

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I recently traveled to Houlton, Maine, to participate in a seemingly national cultural event: the viewing of the total annular eclipse. It was not a journey that I had really planned out beforehand. The decision to go at all was in question up until the hour before I left. I made the trek up to the northern half of the state that I have learned to call home with a close friend of mine who had also awoken that morning, unsure of his participation in the journey. As we drove up with plenty of time to spare we could not help but notice the immense amount of traffic on a hundred-mile section of the interstate which rarely sees more than three cars at a time. It was clear to us that people wanted to see this eclipse. As rather lukewarm astronomers, we were unprepared for the mass of people we would encounter when we reached our viewing destination.
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Jesus Christ, Son of God, Have Mercy on Me, a Sinner

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About two years ago I was sitting in my grandmother's living room, and we were discussing the books that we were reading. I do not remember what books we were discussing, but I remember her interrupting our discussion of a certain book to ask me if I had ever read The Way of a Pilgrim , I said that I had not, and she proceeded to tell me that it was her favorite book. She pointed it out to me on the shelf and told me that I should have it. I asked her if she was sure she wanted to give it away because it was her favorite book. She said to me that she had read it ten times already, and she figured that she would not need to read it again in her lifetime. Fast forward to last month, and I am presenting this book to my newly formed book club. We read it together in a month and spent a few hours discussing the book over wine, cheese, and crackers. My brief thoughts on the book are as follows.
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