The guru is gone, off to India to tend to the responsibilities he has there. I am hoping that some day he will return but for now will trudge onward in my feeble effort to understand the world.

There is one question, however, which we did not get a chance to discuss, which was this: Are there “other factors” besides faith, which affect religious belief and/or religious affiliation? For example, sociological or cultural factors.

The answer, of course, is yes. Were it not for these “other factors,” I could well be an evangelical, Southern Baptist. Consider this true story (also described in Civil Rights Journey):

I grew up in a proper and conservative family in Nashville. My father was a banker, and his father was in his day the president of two banks, including one that failed in the Great Depression. My mother was a loving, stay-at-home mom, who was active in all sorts of civic things like the Junior League and a thrift shop, which she had organized as a charity. We belonged to a country club and lived in Belle Meade, a close-in suburb where most of Nashville’s elites lived. Most important, my family was deeply involved in Christ Episcopal Church in downtown Nashville, now Christ Church Cathedral. When I was growing up, my father was Senior Warden (Episcopal church talk for “chairman of the board”), and my mother was head of the Women of the Church, not only for Christ Church but for the entire Diocese of Tennessee.

The Billy Graham Crusade came to Nashville in the late spring of 1952 when I was 10 years old. Enormous planning went into these crusades, and lay leaders of all denominations were engaged by the Graham Crusade and expected to support the event, an effort which included both of my parents. Attendance at the Nashville Billy Graham Crucade was a command performance for my parents and for me. I asked if could bring along my best friend, Walter Wilson, who lived in a big white house at the bottom of the street we lived on, and they agreed. The revival was held in the giant Vanderbilt football stadium, which had thousands of seats, which on the evening of the revival were jam packed. For their role in promoting the event among Episcopalians, my parents were given VIP seats at the 50-yard line about a third of the way up.

Being a 10-year-old, the last thing I wanted to do was sit with my parents, so I convinced them to allow me and Walter to sit where we wanted to. We climbed the steep stadium stairs all the way up to the top row where a few empty seats were available and where we had a spectacular view of the extravaganza– the choirs, the bands, bright colors, banners with crosses– and could feel the excitement in the stands. There were a couple of warmup speeches or mini sermons, a few more vibrant hymns by the choir, and then the great evangelist appeared on stage to the roar of the crowd, louder than anything I had heard in Vanderbilt Stadium except maybe the rare time when Vanderbilt scored a touchdown against the University of Tennessee. For two 10-year-old kids, it was a sensation.

Billy Graham did not disappoint. For me that was not hard  because I knew very little about Billy Graham and had not given the event much thought ahead of time. But his message of sin and forgiveness and redemption captivated me, and I could tell it also captivated my friend, Walter. When the call came to come down to the podium on the field to be saved and born again, hundreds and hundreds of people were leaving their seats to go down to the field. I could feel my heart pounding. I looked at Walter. He looked at me. We nodded to each other. Down we went.

As we approached the VIP section where my parents were sitting, out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed my mother and realized that she saw Walter and me, headed for Billy Graham to be saved and born again. She had a look of horror on her face. I was surprised, but we continued our descent until we reached the row where my parents were seated when a strong arm reached out and dragged me into an empty seat. It was my father. Walter looked puzzled but followed me and sat down. In a stage whisper, which was overheard by everyone sitting near us, my mother scolded me, “What do you think you are doing? You can’t go down there! You are an Episcopalian, for goodness’ sake! They are Baptists!

There was lots of murmuring. Several people shouted, “let them go, let them go!” Someone else shouted, “Shame, shame! Jesus saves!” Another, “Satan.” Others just groaned.

My mother later explained that I was already a Christian, attended church and Sunday school every Sunday, was the leader of my preteen Sunday school group, and all that would come of this if I had gone down to the field was that they would have tried to make me into a Baptist, who she insisted were “just different” from us Episcopalians. I apologized to Walter, who said not to worry since he was a Southern Baptist already and had been born again twice.

But I still occasionally ask myself the question, what would have happened if I had gone down there, and how might it have altered my life’s journey,

The other true story is from the 1990s. It also involves a Southern Baptist.

Embry had seen a photo of her cousins on the cover of a National Geographic magazine featuring an article on old time “camp meetings,” which caused her to reach out to them. They invited us to join them for a few days at one of the oldest camp meetings in the country predating the Civil War–the Salem Camp Meeting in Covington, Georgia. A camp meeting is essentially a week-long revival and family reunion. I had never been to a camp meeting before and was fascinated by the experience. Camp meetings usually happen toward the end of the summer or early fall of  each year where extended families gather for a week of worship, music, and socializing. The large campground in Covington included a few tents but mainly consisted of hundreds of ancient, makeshift tin and wooden huts, which gave the feel of a huge summer camp. Multiple generation families sat around campfires, chatted, told stories, visited old friends, sang spirituals, and played gentle music on guitars. It was a genuine, spiritual atmosphere.

The highlight of the Covington tent camp experience was listening to sermons from guest preachers, and each year a preacher is selected to give two or three sermons a day for several days in a large, outdoor pavilion accommodating several hundred people. This year the preacher was a Southern Baptist minister from South Carolina. He was young, handsome, and charismatic. In those days there was some leeway in the Southern Baptist Church regarding theology and matters of faith. A few Southern Baptist ministers even described themselves as liberals or progressives. This guy was obviously one of those rare birds. I was both amazed and impressed. As a somewhat skeptical graduate of Union Seminary–and an Episcopalian! — I found myself agreeing with most of what he said. I also was impressed that he seemed to be well received by a Southern and, I would assume, conservative tent camp congregation.

Then came his final sermon, where he abruptly changed course. This is the way his sermon went:

“Well, you have been listening to me all week talk about matters of faith, and I’ll bet that you believe that I would say that there is really not that much difference between the various Protestant denominations. We are all Christians.”

Most people nodded.

“Well,” he continued, “I am here to tell you that there is a huge difference, and don’t let anyone tell you anything different.”

I thought, “Uh oh, here it comes. The fundamentalism is in him after all.” 

Puzzled looks appeared on many faces in the congregation along with a few murmurs.

 With a sheepish grin  and a twinkle in his eye, he continued, “So here are the differences and pay attention because they are important, very important: I am a Southern Baptist and proud of it. A Southern Baptist is a Christian who has been washed.”

People in the congregation nodded.

“Are there any Methodists in the congregation?”

Many nodded, and some raised their hands.

“A Methodist is a Baptist who can read.”

A few chuckles.

“Presbyterians?”

More hands went up.

“A Presbyterian is a Methodist who has gone to college.”

More chuckles.

“And an Episcopalian is a Presbyterian whose investments turned out all right!”

The pavilion exploded in laughter.

So, yes, readers, there are real differences between the Protestant denominations and between the various pathways in the religious quest for ultimate meaning and reality.

And don’t let anyone tell you anything different.

 

 

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As I knocked on Akash’s door, I was pleased that he greeted me with “my friend” rather than “Mr. Howell.” I could tell that he seemed a bit preoccupied. When we sat down for the usual tea, he delivered the bad news: This would be our last meeting. He was being called back to India because of an emergency and was unsure when or if he would return. He managed a faint smile and said, “So, my friend, if there is anything more you wish to know, now is the time to ask.”

“Ok,” I answered,” Here goes: What is your religion anyway?”

“I am first and foremost a guru, and most gurus do not have a formal religious affiliation. I grew up as a Hindu, explored both Buddhism and Zen Buddhism and then the Abrahamic religions. That is why I know so much about the Bible. You could call me a universalist I suppose, but I have no affiliation with the Unitarian Universalist Church.”

“Well, I have to say that you are indeed a very wise person, and I find that I agree with much of what you said.”

“I am pleased to hear that but also understand that you not only are a Christian but also are one of a diminishing number of people who attend church regularly. In addition, from my research I have learned that you have a Master of Divinity degree from a famous seminary and at one point were in line to become an Episcopal priest. Is this correct?”

“I am afraid that it is.”

“And yet you and I agree on many things. You know that I am not a Christian. I am curious as to why you seem to be so dedicated to your neighborhood Episcopal church since you do not sound like an orthodox Christian to me.”

“Well, this is a long story but two quick points. First, it is often said that Episcopalians check their hat at the door when entering church, not their brain. While there is still a lot of baggage that goes along with being an Episcopalian, there also is some wiggle room about what you believe. Second, being part of a caring, religious community is important, and, frankly, I would admit being part of a caring community is probably the main motivating factor. Besides, Embry sings in the choir, and that is very important to her. At times I must confess, however, I question if it is worth the effort. For years I have not said the creeds that are in the prayer book.”

“So what else resonates with you about our discussions?”

“I especially was impressed with your comments about Jesus and that from your viewpoint he was truly a Holy Man who embodied what you call ‘the Great Spirit.’ I had never thought of it that way exactly, but it surely resonates with me. The anthropomorphisms found in Christian, religious language as God being a “he” and Jesus being his “son” have never made much sense to me.   Also, I am impressed with your comment that trying to take the mystery out of religion often is not only counterproductive but misses the point. The human condition is such that we do not and will not have all the answers. You point out that through prayer and meditation, humans can connect with the Great Spirit and that the purpose of all religions is to make sense out of the world and connect to a deeper reality that is elusive but real. What also resonates, however, is that there is validity in all religions and that there are many pathways to seeking, as you say, the Great Spirit.”

“Well, that surely should get you into trouble with a whole lot of churches. They haven’t tried to throw you out yet?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, one person told  me that there was no place for heretics like me in the church and that I should leave. When I did not leave, he did.”

I  continued, “But why  did you not talk about  the dark side of religion and religious organizations? What about the terrible things Christians did in the Crusades, the millions of Catholic and Protestant deaths in the Thirty Year’s War, the Witch Hunts in New England, Al Qaeda, the Taliban, the ‘Christians’ who are outspoken Trump supporters, and stormed the Capitol and bought into ‘Stop the Steal’? The Ku Klux Klan says it it is a Christian organization. I could name many more.”

“Yes, this is true, and it is troubling. Do you remember the conversation about evil spirits in the world? I would put these into that category, but the evil spirit phenomenon remains a mystery. Also, human nature is fragile and easily corrupted. It also illustrates that  simply saying you are a Christian or a Muslim or Buddhist is not enough to make you one. As you Christians say, only God knows that. But I must admit, I too find this baffling but sadly true.

“Now I want to change the subject. And ask about your seminary experience? How did that affect you?”

“Well, it was mixed. Union Theological Seminary in New York City was at the time nondenominational (It is now ‘interfaith’!), which had a rigorous academic program (The great theologians Paul Tillich and Reinhold Niebuhr taught there but had departed by the time I arrived in 1964.) and a strong emphasis on social justice, especially the Civil Rights Movement, which is what really appealed to me and many of my classmates. No one I knew there ended up pursuing a career in the ministry. Embry and I spent the summer of 1966 working on the front lines of the Civil Rights Movement in southwest Georgia with the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, the most radical civil rights group at the time. It was an experience of a lifetime.

“My involvement in ‘the Movement,’ however, got me into trouble with my bishop, who was the head of the Episcopal Diocese of Tennessee. He was a feisty, old-school guy who thought that Episcopal priests had more business being in the pulpit and at the altar than marching against racism. I actually liked the guy and appreciated his honesty, but we parted ways before I graduated. I remain grateful to him to this day. Given my heretical theology and struggle with doubt and belief, it would have been a rocky road. After graduating from Union, I got a master’s in city planning from UNC Chapel Hill, which I parlayed into a career assisting developers and nonprofits build affordable housing and seniors housing. Embry got a master’s in bio statistics, which led to several health policy research jobs, and we settled in Washington in 1972 where we raised our two kids and have lived ever since. I could never have asked for more. As you pointed out, I have been blessed. So that is my life in a nutshell.”

“Thank you for sharing. Before we part ways, however, I have a question for you regarding what seems to be happening in America. I see that church attendance in mainline Protestant churches has been declining for some time and that many younger people have opted out. There is a new category of ‘nones’ referring to people who in surveys say they do not have a religion and a growing number who say they are ‘spiritual but not religious.’ At the same time, Evangelical churches while growing also have in many instances been radicalized politically with a large number thinking that your former president, Donald Trump, is the new Jesus Christ. What on earth is going on?”

“I am somewhat confused myself but think that part of this has to do with the social class and racial divisions in the U.S., which are very serious and account for some of this behavior. I also think that the established mainline denominations–and also Catholics (where immigrants have slowed the decline) –are partly themselves to blame for this situation. They are seen by many younger, more progressive people as not taking a stronger stand on social issues or doing as much as they should to address the pain and suffering that is happening in our country and the world. In a word they are seen as irrelevant. There are also divisions in these denominations regarding social issues like marriage equality, sexuality, and abortion. Plus—and this gets back to the conversation we have been having—taking a hardline position on belief and faith is a turnoff for many people in what is now a secular and questioning world.

“I will concede, however, that this is not always the case. Last week I was talking with an old friend, who has had a very successful ministry as a ‘High Church’ or ‘Anglo Catholic’ Episcopal priest. When I told him that the Episcopal Church would be  better off ditching the creeds, he laughed, gave me a big hug, and exclaimed that he could not disagree with me more. He pointed out that his Anglo Catholic church  in New York City was thriving as are similar churches where there is incense, chanting, and the use of traditional liturgy. On the contrary, he pointed out that declining church attendance was having a  bigger impact on  those churches with watered down liturgy, loosey-goosey beliefs, and in some  parishes that were little more than social clubs. If the church did not stand for something and take orthodox belief seriously, he pointed out, why bother? But he concluded his remarks with this comment:’ Joe Howell, the language in the Nicene says we, not I. In other words, it is not necessarily what you believe but what the church has believed over the years.’ I interpreted that as giving people like me some wiggle room.”

The guru responded, “Well, I am glad you think you have some wiggle room. You surely need it. But while I have  said “one destination, many pathways,”  you also have to be careful. First, the destination needs to be legitimate, that is, an honest search for the spiritual. And, second, you have got to realize that some pathways may lead you in the wrong direction, some to a dead end, and others over a cliff.”

I answered , “Yeah, and I think I could name a bunch of those right here in the U.S. where the pathways they have chosen have taken them over a cliff.  I also agree with the idea of  ‘different strokes for different folks’ and admit there are no easy answers.  That is why I have been especially interested in your world view and your beliefs. I believe that there should be more room in traditional Christian churches  for questioning and doubt as long as the focus on spirituality remains, and the Christian message of love your neighbor, helping the poor and less fortunate,  and working for social justice do not get lost in the shuffle. But, hey, what do I know?”

“Well, you know more now than when we started our conversation when you were in dire need of an exorcist. As I say, the Great Spirit works in mysterious ways. I will miss you, my friend. Don’t throw in the towel.”

“Safe travels. I hope you will return.”

 

 

 

 

 

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Today, Akash met me with a wide grin and firm handshake.

“Finally, a happy topic!”

“Well, I replied, “Why not start with whether or not you believe in miracles?”

His eyes twinkled as he exclaimed, “As you Americans say, ‘Are you kidding me?’ Of course, I believe in miracles! That we are sitting here in my apartment discussing important topics about the meaning of life is a miracle. That I am alive is a miracle. That you are alive is a miracle. That this small gem of a planet brimming with life is the most extraordinary miracle of all. What are the odds? As we discussed before, we now have a pretty good idea of how old the universe is, how big it is, and how vast it is. If the planet Earth does not fall into the category of a miracle, I do not know what does.

“ You think we are it? That the Great Spirit got all this started 13.8 billion years ago, and all the life that came out of it was one lonely, blue planet? Of course not. But given the vastness of it all and the distance between planets, between solar systems, between stars and between galaxies, it is pretty remarkable.  We will never know what else is out there, but the fact that we are here is  a miracle, and we should not ever forget this. We should be grateful for this and offer thanks every single day.”

“Well, I understand that though a lot of scientists would disagree.”

“Those scientists who would disagree know little about spiritual matters. They may all now agree on the Big Bang but will never be able to explain the why of it. Of course, never will gurus like me, but at least we gurus acknowledge the profound mystery of it all.

“But what about ordinary day-to-day ‘miracles’ that people think happen? You hear stuff like this all the time: ‘It was a miracle I passed that test. It was a miracle that our team won. It was a miracle that I got the dream job.’ Is there anything to that? The use of the word ‘miracle’ is often substituted for ‘luck.’ Do you think the Great Spirit gets involved in such apparently trivial day-to-day affairs?”

“My friend,  What do you think? Do you think the Great Spirit has been responsible for miracles in your life?”

“Yes, no question. Absolutely.”

“So do most people if they are honest. Give me an example of a miracle that you have experienced.”

“Well, I will give you a recent one. A few weeks ago, Embry and I had taken three immigrant kids ages 10-12 to a play and I made a serious mistake when driving them home in making a left turn onto a busy highway when a car going about twice the speed limit suddenly appeared over a hill, roaring towards us, and swerved to miss us by inches. We could all have been killed, but what haunts me most is that I would have been responsible for what happened to those three kids, who are all adored by their struggling parents whose main hope in life is to provide a better life for their children. If I had survived and those children hadn’t, I could never live with myself. The same would hold true if Embry had been killed. It was a miracle!”

“Sounds like a miracle in my book too.”

“Well, I have many more examples, but you could also substitute ‘luck’ for ‘miracle.’ I do that myself all the time.”

“Who knows? Maybe they are the same thing. I recall someone once observing that a coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.”

“But then again, that raises the question of why miracles happen for some and not for others. Innocent people are killed in car crashes every day.”

“My friend, for this question I have no answer, but I must remind you that life itself is a miracle. Do not forget this and offer thanks to the Great Spirit or ‘God’ or whatever you choose to call the ultimate reality. Do this every day.”

“See you next week. I want to know more about your religion.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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After we had sat down and we  had a sip of tea, Akash cleared his throat and said, “Why do you want me to talk about death, Mr. Howell?”

“Well, I replied, “I know it sounds gruesome, but do you have any idea what it is like to be on a covid-infested cruise ship where the crew is throwing dead bodies over the transom into the ocean, and death is on every doorstep?”

“Oh, my goodness,” he replied, “Was it that bad?”

“Well, no, but it could have been, and had I not tested negative for covid at 4:50 PM on the last day of the cruise, I would have been transferred at daybreak to a so called ‘covid hotel,’ and what do you think the odds are that anyone would have survived that? Anyway, it was my experience with covid that brought us together. I was looking for an exorcist and couldn’t find one, but I found you instead, and that was even better. I am so grateful.”

“And I observe, Mr. Howell, also that you are no spring chick. Could that also be behind your question about death?”

“That is true. I turned 80 about four months ago, and every day I am reminded that the 80s are different from the 70s. Thankfully, I think I am now past the covid near-death ordeal, but there is much that I could do a few years ago that I can’t do now—like walk as fast or as long as I used to, go up or down steps without holding onto a banister, or remember my own name. About a third of my classmates in high school and college have passed away. We know that we 80-plus-year-olds are next in line.”

“You should consider yourself fortunate and be grateful. You have lived a long, fulfilling life and have been blessed with a strong marriage, children whom you are close to and proud of, grandchildren you adore, a satisfying career, great friends, a loving extended family, and reasonably good health. Others are not so fortunate. Many others.”

“You are right, Akash. Forgive me. Indeed, I have been blessed.”

“First, for someone like you who has already beaten the odds, death is not to be feared. Can you imagine living another 30 or 40 years as your body and mind deteriorate?  All life comes to an end, not just human life. It is perhaps life’s most unfathomable mystery and will remain so. Your concern should be that when your number comes up, you are spared suffering and pain. Second, the “value” of death which is often overlooked is that it puts a period at the end of the long paragraph of one’s life. The race is over. You have crossed the finish line. Suffering ends. What has happened will be history and will stand on its own merits for better or worse. You are now free from having to keep running as fast as you can, and from having to keep fighting demons and dragons. At last, you can rest. Here is where the Eastern religions have influenced me. The sadness is for those left behind who will miss you, but their time will come too. The tragedy comes when one’s life has been cut short or when one’s life path has been cruel and rocky.”

“But what about an afterlife? What about heaven or for that matter hell? Do you believe in an afterlife where we will be united with what you call The Great Spirit?”

“This remains a mystery, but in any event whatever life there is will be so unlike the lives we live now on the planet Earth, that the question is irrelevant. Our advanced telescopes have now identified billions of stars and galaxies, but so far have not seen anything that could be described as heaven. The same for hell though supposedly that is somewhere under the Earth’s surface, and we know that is not possible. The point is, language comes up short, and you can’t take human’s feeble attempt to explain the unexplainable literally. My recommendation is don’t sweat it. What will happen will happen. It is out of your control.”

“Thank you. This is reassuring.”

“And remember, we are not talking just about the planet Earth. The Great Spirit is the creator and sustainer of the universe. If there were a “heaven”, who knows what you would find there?

“There is also something else to keep in mind. The idea of a heaven and a hell is an effort by us humans to make sense out of the world around us, which is full of suffering and pain. Life does not seem fair. The rationale behind the dichotomy of heaven and hell has to do with ultimate justice or I should say, human’s longing for ultimate justice. This goes back to our discussion last week about evil. There are bad people in the world. Many appear to get away literally with murder and never have to pay for it. Others have done terrible things yet seem to have lived happy lives often accumulating lots of wealth. When we humans observe this, many of us are outraged. It is not right. They should have to pay for their evil deeds. The idea of a hell addresses this dilemma. Ok, they may have gotten away with doing terrible things while they were alive, but they will spend eternity burning in hell. Ultimately justice will prevail. Nice idea but wishful thinking.”

“Yeah, serves ‘em right, I say! Too bad it is not true.”

“The other side of the coin are the lives of good and decent people who were dealt very bad hands and lived very difficult and sad lives. I am thinking of those who grew up in dysfunctional families, those living most of their lives in poverty, those with serious mental illness or incurable illnesses, and those who were never able to find a place in the world and never felt loved. The list is long. The troubles and sorrows of everyday people and everyday life are what disturb me the most. The hardest thing to take about living on this planet is that life is not fair, and human suffering is ubiquitous. But that is the planet we live on. The idea of a heaven is that ultimately those who have suffered will be rewarded and will have a place reserved for them.”

“It would be great if it were true. But I think about the Great Spirit. Does the Great Spirit enter the picture for those suffering? Surely the Great Spirit must be there for them. Maybe this eases the pain.”

“That is an important point. Thank you for bringing it up. Yes, for me the Great Spirit is real as it is for others, but sadly not for everyone. We humans reach out to the Great Spirit through prayer and meditation. This is true throughout the world. It is true for all expressions of religion and faith traditions. Try to convince those who have experienced the Great Spirit that it is not real and only a figment of their imagination, and they will ignore you. They know what for them is real, and you can’t convince them otherwise.

“This seems to be especially true for poor people, and for those who have suffered, who are more open to the Great Spirit. I think about the Bible that is at the center of the Christian faith tradition. Jesus, the Holy Man, that Christians believe embodied the Great Spirit, focused His ministry on the poor. You may be surprised that I know so much about your religion, but I have read much of your Bible as well as holy texts from other faith traditions. The Gospel of Matthew comes to mind:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness,

for they will be filled.

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall be shown mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the sons of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

I also recall reading in the same gospel that “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of God!”

To me, a non Christian,  l find these words of  great comfort. Of course, whether there is life after death or a heaven or hell will always remain a mystery. A mystery, that is, until we die and then we will find out.”

“Next week, let’s talk about miracles.”

“You are on.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A brief update: while I have not been able to locate an exorcist, I am pleased to report that after five weeks of suffering, Covid appears to have wearied or simply gotten bored with making my life miserable and seems to have moved on to attack some other poor victim. The only downside is that I remain in a state of near total exhaustion, which I hope will pass soon. I am taking it day by day and do not intend to bore you with this again.

But the (fictitious) Guru Stories will continue.

 

Here is the great news: I have found Akash! Actually, we bumped into each other in the hallway as I was going down to pick up the mail. It turns out the empty apartment that I had knocked on was on a different floor, unit 232 instead of 332 where he lives, so I was able to schedule another meeting, which happened yesterday.

He was as gracious as he was at our first meeting, offering tea and some sumptuous cookies. He suggested we set some ground rules since his schedule is quite busy—no more than one hour and only one subject at a time, and no more than one session a week. I insisted that we work out some financial arrangement, which he said we could discuss at some later time.

I jumped in with my question of the day: how do you explain evil in the world? I was not just thinking of Trump but also of all the terrible things you read about every day in the newspaper.

I noticed a slight grimace as he paused for a moment, took a long sip of tea, and then looked me straight in the eye.

“Mr. Howell, you don’t waste any time, do you? Next to the question of ultimate reality, which as we discussed last week as ‘The Great Spirit,’ which many also call ‘God,’ this is a tough one. Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do bad things happen at all? Why would The Great Spirit create a universe with pain and suffering built in? What is that all about?

“Keep in mind the main point I tried to get across last week that there is so much we do not understand and never will understand about our small planet and the universe. Mystery is part of wisdom; and when we think we have it all figured out, we are back to square one. We have to accept that.

“Now since we met, I have done a little research about you.”

“Fabulous,” I replied, “You are reading my blog!”

“I am sorry to disappoint you, but I do not do the internet thing, but I have my sources, which, of course, will remain confidential. But about the nature of evil, I learned that you and your wife, Embry, lost your first child, just before her first birthday due to a heart defect. I also know that the evangelical, fundamentalist Baptist chaplain assigned to you at the hospital told you that it was God’s will and you just had to accept it, a comment which you vehemently disagreed with, and you threatened to throw him out of the room.”

“This is all true,” I responded wondering how he could possibly know this, “but once he got the message, he changed his tune and did an admirable job listening. I even apologized to him before the ordeal was over.”

“Yes, but certainly that experience affected you and Embry and caused you to ask the question, why. Of course, there was a medical explanation, but in terms of the big picture the why question is important, and, frankly, I am glad you brought it up though it is one of the most difficult questions to answer. It is also universal. Most human beings on this planet have had to deal with tragedy, due to no fault of their own. It is part of the human experience.

“Let’s begin with the statement that is found in many religions—especially the Abrahamic religions, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam: that God is all powerful and all good. I am not a Christian or a Muslim or a Jew, but even if I were, I would reject this premise. If you will excuse me, I will speak of ‘The Great Spirit’ rather than ‘God’ as I believe this better suits the discussion. The Great Spirit is not all powerful and all good. Period. If this were the case, the Holocaust would never have happened, millions would have not died under Mao, and the gulags would not have happened in Russia. Putin would not be doing the terrible things he is doing in Ukraine. But this is just the tip of the iceberg. (Ok, I will humor you, Donald Trump never would have been elected President of the United States.) The point is terrible things happen all the time. And these disasters were not all caused by flawed humans. What about natural disasters? Why would an all powerful deity cause floods, fires, and earthquakes hurting innocent people? And while we are at it, what is this covid nightmare all about?”

“These are the reasons I asked the question in the first place.”

“So here is your answer. We know the planet Earth is about 4.5 billion years old and that early forms of life began to appear about 3.5 billion years ago followed by more advanced forms of life through the evolutionary process. We know that dinosaurs and reptiles ruled the planet for over 165 million years before they were wiped out by a huge meteor about 65 million years ago. Then along came mammals and ultimately humans—homo sapiens– which first appeared only about 200,000 years ago.  We are the new kids on the block. Good heavens, we only invented writing about six thousand years ago! We humans are part of the animal kingdom and have many of the characteristics of other animals—self-preservation, conflict with competitors, survival instincts. These characteristics that have  served us well also have a dark side. We fight if we feel threatened or cornered.  That is part of all life on the planet.”

“Yes, but don’t most Christians and for that matter other people of various faiths think that we are fundamentally different from the animal kingdom?”

“Yes, and they are wrong. It is only a matter of degree, not kind. Anyone who has owned a loving dog or cat understands this. And as far as natural disasters go, all that is part of the formation and sustainability of life on this wonderous planet.”

“So, it sounds like your view is akin to the clockmaker theory of Deism. The Great Spirit set it all up with the Big Bang and then has taken a hands-off position, letting what happens happen.”

“Yes, but there is a difference. While The Great Spirit got it all started, in the great scheme of things The Great Spirit is accessible to us humans. We humans have a spiritual side. We are hard wired. We want to understand and know the answers. Holy people in history have had stronger connections with The Great Spirit than most ordinary people; but for all humans, glimpses of the Divine are accessible though sadly rare. But that is just the way it is, so you might as well get used to it. What makes Jesus special in my view is that he was able to connect with The Great Spirit in ways that no other humans have been able to and embodied The Great Spirit.”

“Sounds to me like you might be a closet Christian.”

“Not so fast, I see value in many religions. Besides most Christians churches would throw me out in a heartbeat for my heretical beliefs.”

“But what about evil? You really have never answered that question.”

“First, I have to ask you what you mean by ‘evil’? If you are talking about really bad things happening, that can be explained by the nature of the world—and I suspect—the  universe we live in. Flawed human nature and the forces of nature.  Or are you talking about a separate force in opposition to The Great Spirit? As you know, “the Devil” is viewed by many religions, especially Christianity, as a real force to be reckoned with, an evil opponent of The Great Spirit.”

“I am not sure. Maybe both.”

“Well, while this falls in the category of mystery, I have to grant you this: At times it surely does seem that a force is at work that is powerful and, yes, evil. There are so many examples of good people turning bad—the Germans under Hitler, the Spaniards under Franco, the Italians under Mussolini, the Russians under Stalin, the Chinese during the Cultural Revolution, the Japanese in Manchuria, the Cambodians under Pol Pot, and these are all recent examples. (Should I put your former President Trump and his ardent followers on this list?) From my research I have learned that you and Embry have traveled to all these countries and many more. I am sure you will agree that the people in these countries that you visited whose parents were caught up in massive evil actions in the 1940s and 1950s and 60s today do not seem like evil people. Yet they allowed the unthinkable to occur in their countries and communities as if they were taken over by a mysterious evil force. And I also know that you grew up in the South in the era of Jim Crow. What did you do about that? The nice middle and upper class Nashvillians you admired for years just accepted Jim Crow as a fact of life. And, of course, slavery proceeded that. No people and no country are off the list.”

 “How do you explain good people allowing these evil actions to happen?”

“My answer may surprise you, but we humans are weak as a species though we do have our heroes and saints. I also have to say that yes, the nature of evil seems to transcend our ability to explain it in purely psychological, “natural,” or scientific terms. And if there is a Great Spirit, as I believe there is, there surely appears to be an Evil Spirit also at work, but how or why this happens remains a mystery. Perhaps we can pursue this at another time.”

“I see that our time is up. Thank you, Akash, my Guru friend. Next week I would like you to talk about death.”

“Oh, my goodness! Ok, see you then.”

 

 

 

 

 

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First, while I am disappointed that I did not receive any recommendations for exorcists, I fully understand. They are all very busy right now.

In the meantime, I am desperately seeking other options. I learned this week that one of my neighbors thought an exorcist now lived in our apartment house. I could not pass up the opportunity. I got his apartment number and with fear and trembling knocked on his door not knowing exactly what to expect. A middle-aged, thin gentleman, with tan skin, slightly graying hair, a black beard, kind eyes, and wearing a turban, a white shirt, white pants and sandals opened the door. He spoke with a slight accent, which I guessed was probably Indian.

“Excuse me, sir,” I humbly asked, “I understand you might be an exorcist.”

“Mr. Howell, I presume?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“Well,” he replied gently, “the word has gotten around that you have been frantically looking for an exorcist, and a lot of people think that is what I am, but I am afraid that I must disappoint you. I am not an exorcist. I suppose it is the way I dress and my accent. Frankly, it drives me crazy.”

“Oh,” I said, “That is too bad, but what are you?”

“I am a guru.”

“What is the difference between a guru and an exorcist?”

“A guru is a wise and holy person. An exorcist is a quack.”

While naturally I was disappointed with his answer, I felt very comfortable in his presence. He invited me to come in and motioned for me to sit at a small table where incense was burning. His small apartment was tastefully decorated with artifacts, which I guessed were from Asia.

What followed next was a transformative experience which I have been told is often associated with being in the presence of a holy and wise person. He poured me a cup of tea and then sat across from me explaining that he usually sat on the floor but had heard that I was elderly and that probably I would not be able to get up.

The conversation started off slowly. He said he was indeed from India and had been in the U.S. for about ten years, working at odd jobs and providing “spiritual support.” His name was Akash. The conversation only lasted for a little over an hour but in some respects seemed like an eternity. We briefly started with the covid pandemic and then moved on to other things. What follows is my feeble attempt to summarize what he said:

According to Akash, the covid pandemic that the world is experiencing is merely one sign of the troubled state of the planet Earth. He enumerated various other signs of stress: rising temperatures, rising sea levels, more severe storms, prolonged droughts, polluted streams and rivers, toxic air, raging wildfires, destructive flooding, tornadoes, hurricanes, the increasing chasm between the haves and have-nots, endless wars, and the Sixth Mass Extension where thousands of species on the planet Earth are disappearing. His brief conclusion regarding the natural disasters and the pandemic was this: Mother Earth is fighting back. Furthermore, we humans are responsible. While this did not come as news, the way he described the situation had an authenticity and alarm about it that caused me to realize how desperate the situation is and how short the time frame is for doing something about it.

“Look,” he said, “We humans have had our time in the sun. In only several hundred thousand years, we worked our way up from being in the middle of the food chain to sitting at the top of the heap and look what we have done with it. We have blown it. Sure, we have all this technology and have transformed how humans live on the planet, but at what cost? We have polluted this wonderous planet. We have caused unnecessary suffering. We have not learned how to tame our violence. We also now have had for more than 75 years the power to destroy life on this planet as we know it with our nuclear weapons; and odds are that at some point, we will do just that.  But make no mistake, Mother Earth will eventually win this battle. She is now middle aged, about 4.5 billion years old, and she has about another 3-4 billion years to go before her star gives out. That is a lot of time for her to get life back in shape.

“It will turn out that our time on the planet Earth was a mere blip on the screen. Just think about it. The human population on this planet at the time of Jesus was around 300 million and remained close to that number until the Industrial Revolution. The industrial revolution began a little over 150 years ago, the technological revolution only about 50 years ago. Today the population of the planet is almost 7 billion. The “modern era” we are in now will turn out to be a mere grain of sand on a beach of over six billion grains of sand. It could all disappear in a heartbeat, or it could be a slow agonizing decline, but rest assured: It will happen. Our time  on the planet Earth is limited. But Mother Earth will go on about her business with new life and new life forms.”

When he mentioned Jesus, this prompted me to ask about his religious beliefs since gurus are supposed to be wise and holy. My first question was whether he believed in God.

“I do not use the term ‘god,’ he said. It means so many different things to different people. There were people storming the Capitol on January 6 who carried crosses and said they were acting in God’s name. Some evangelical Christians believe Trump to be the son of God. The Islamist extremists who destroyed the World Trade Center on Nine Eleven did so in the name of Allah. I do not doubt their sincerity. Catholics and Protestants killed each other by the millions during the 30 Years War in Europe because each side believed the other side did not worship the true God. The list is long.

“I use the term ‘Great Spirit.’ And I believe there is a Great Spirit beyond what we humans can comprehend, and a touch of the Great Spirit resides in all of us though few of us realize this or act upon it. Some do, like Jesus, though I do not call myself a Christian because I do not believe Christians have exclusive access to the Great Spirit. The challenge we face is that we often do not realize that there is a Great Spirit or we put up barriers because we feel threatened. Ultimately, of course, the Great Spirit remains a mystery. One manifestation of the Great Spirit is the planet Earth or Mother Earth as I call her, but there are so many more, and so much that we will never fully understand. And by the way, who is to say that the Great Spirit is not present in all animals or even in all life. It is a mystery and will remain so. When humans think we have it all figured out, that is when we get into trouble.”

“So do you think that there is any value in formal religion or formal religious practice?”

“Absolutely. One destination, many pathways. The problem comes when you think your pathway is the only pathway.”

“And what about the rest of the universe? What is that all about?”

“Well, I have to tell you that anyone who thinks that life exists only on this precious though run-of-the-mill planet is blind and arrogant. And if someone says that “God” or the Great Spirit is exclusively theirs, that person is hopelessly ignorant. All this started with the Big Bang about 13.8 billion years ago. Do the arithmetic. We are one planet in a solar system circling an average star about four billion years old. We are in a smallish galaxy with many billions of other stars. Scientists now have the technology to detect planets circling other stars, and just about every star they have examined appears to have planets. There are estimated to be trillions of galaxies in the universe. Not only that, but astronomers also now estimate that in our galaxy alone there are over two billion rocky planets about the same distance from their star as the Earth is from the sun. And astronomers, philosophers and theologians are still unsure whether any life exists elsewhere in the universe? Please.

“The challenge, of course, is the great distance between stars and the likely limited life spans of so-called intelligent beings, that is, creatures smart like us, who end up eventually blowing themselves up just when they think they have it all together. But remember: The ultimate reality will remain a mystery, and that is all well and good.”

When I realized I had been with this extraordinary person for over an hour and did not want to wear out my welcome, I thanked him profusely and told him I would be back for more. I had so many more questions to ask.  He bowed, shook my hand, and thanked me for coming.

When a couple of days later I returned to knock on his door, there was no answer. When I asked the front desk if they had seen the occupant of that apartment recently, the clerk responded that the apartment had been vacant for over a month, and a new tenant was supposed to move in next week.

 

A fake story by Joseph Howell

July 27, 2022

 

 

 

 

 

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 I know many of my devoted followers have been sitting on pins and needles wondering what has become of the ill-fated traveler. So here is the latest:

I am three days away from reaching the covid one-month milestone, which according to the CDC technically will put me into the dreaded “Long Covid Club.”  But it is also true that no one really understands this hideous disease or how long I will be under its spell.

The good  news is that I am still alive, surely due to my two vaccinations and two boosters. Note also that compared to what so many have experienced, I am actually in pretty good shape. I have not had to go to the emergency room. I have been able to breathe and to sort of go about life as usual though not without spending most of the time in bed, constant complaining and according to Embry being “ornery.” This week we have been staying at an inn on the Chesapeake Bay while our youngest grandchild, Parker Howell, almost age 13, has been attending sailing camp. However, I have remained indoors sleeping most of the time when I am not being ornery or complaining incessantly.

I am sure the covid experience is not the same for any two people. Total exhaustion, joint and muscle pains, and just feeling lousy sum it up for me. It could be a lot worse.

But here is the thing about covid. As soon as you feel a tad better and maybe try an activity or two like taking a short stroll or watching TV or a movie, or helping prepare a meal or cleaning up, or staying up past 8:00 PM, the next day you pay the price. Covid strikes back with a vengeance. You are hammered and feel so bad that you dread having to get out of bed. This only lasts about a day, however, and then you are back to where you were the day before and able to take a short walk, watch TV, read the news online, and complain incessantly. The time that there is a break in the cycle, I will declare myself on the mend. While this has not actually  happened quite yet, each day I keep hoping that tomorrow will be the day.

The revolutionary insight that I have gained from this horrid experience is that covid is actually not a disease. It is an Evil Spirit. The doctors and experts have it all wrong. Until people figure this out, we will continue to be in a mess. Evil Spirits have been around forever. Remember how much time Jesus spent casting out Evil Spirits? This has been true of a lot of holy people. Nobody knows where these Evil Spirits come from or why they enter the human body, only that this has been happening from time immemorial. In my case on a bad night I awake the next morning totally exhausted due to a real life battle between the Evil Spirit and my body. So far my body has been winning or at least holding its own. Afterall, I am still alive, but at a price; and the big question is when will the Evil Spirit give up and go back where it came from.

This profound insight turned me to exorcism. I realized that I do not need a doctor. I need an exorcist. It turns out that exorcists are all over the place. I typed in Google “Exorcist Near Me” and all kinds of names came up. I’ll bet if you check on it, you will find at least one exorcist within a five minute walk of where you live. So many exorcists, how to choose?

It is hard to find out detailed information without entering a ton of personal data on their website and in many cases paying a fee or “retainer” up front before they will cast out your demon.  And there are all kind of options: exorcism by email, exorcism over the phone, mail order exorcism, Zoom exorcism (said to be the most popular but also a bit pricey) and in rare cases face-to-face exorcism though it appears that many of these exorcists are in the deep jungles of sub-Saharan Africa or remote islands in Indonesia. A whole bunch of exorcists are Roman Catholic priests exceeded only by “former Roman Catholic priests.”

I have been trying to locate a trade association of exorcists and maybe something about best practices. In any event, if any of you know of a real good and affordable exorcist, please pass the name along to me along with whether the exorcist will accept exorcism insurance, which I am planning to get before hiring anyone.

And do not worry. I will let you know when the Evil Spirit is exorcised or simply gives up and goes home.

  

 

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Well, I guess you could say I was lucky. The evening before the ship’s arrival in Copenhagen, when I was beginning to feel almost normal again, the medical people called to inform me that the covid test they had given  me that day turned out to be negative. That meant I was free from quarantine and “able to enjoy all the activities and amenities on the ship,” plus I would not have to join those with positive covid tests who in the wee hours of the next morning would be surreptitiously whisked off the vessel before anyone could see them.

I could imagine what the next chapter would be for those unfortunate souls. Certainly no “hotel” would take a boatload of miserable, covid-infected passengers, some near death. I figured it would probably be a makeshift medical ward in some abandoned, ramshackled warehouse with 100 beds lined up on one side and another 100 beds on the other, separated only by inches with overworked doctors and nurses going from bed to bed as patients groaned and gasped for breath. You have seen pictures showing makeshift hospitals in obscure African or Indian villages–ceiling fans whirring to reduce the agony of sweltering heat and flies everywhere. Dead bodies carted off, covered by sheets.

And what would have happened to Embry or other spouses or cabin mates who did not have covid? Where would they go? How would they get home? And how would I get home when I was finally released? Indeed, if I was finally released.

Those hypothetical questions remain thankfully unanswered. It was all I could do to keep from letting out a cheer as I set foot on dry land.

But situations like this do happen. Embry and I took a cruise around South America in the early fall of 2019—before anyone had heard the name, “covid,” starting in Fort Lauderdale and after a dozen or so stops in Panama, Peru, Chili, Argentina, Uruguay, and Brazil, we spent two weeks on our own in Rio and then Buenos Aries before flying home to the U.S. It was a fabulous trip. This was also a Holland America cruise on the vessel, Zaandam. In October that ship took on new passengers in Rio and then returned to Fort Lauderdale on the reverse of the route that we had taken. By late fall, however, covid had showed up. The very same ship we had been on was the ship where covid raged with most of the passengers and crew getting very sick and many dying. No port would allow the boat to enter, and they went weeks without docking before they finally made it through the Panama Canal and back to Florida. Food had to be brought in by supply ship or helicopter, and all passengers on the ship were quarantined. On the first day of our cruise this time, we chatted with a very friendly bar tender who was on that doomed ship and described the experience as something worse than hell itself. Several of his close friends died.

Situations like this do happen.

We thanked our lucky stars, boarded a bus with other relieved passengers and were taken to the Clarion Hotel at the Copenhagen airport. And I have to say that looking back on it all,   this “cruise from hell” was not so bad and could have been a whole lot worse. I only missed two excursions, one in Iceland and one in Scotland to Loch Ness, and the food delivered to our room was actually very good. I did feel terrible, especially during the first four or five days—sore throat, cough, chills, body aches, fatigue, etc.–but never felt I was not going to make it. Our cabin had a balcony, which we  used when I began to recover, and if it was not too chilly. Embry and I watched a bunch of good movies (“Here Today” was my favorite.). Embry was able to come and go. Many others on board must have had a much tougher time. I estimate that over 80 cabins had been converted to isolation wards, and many other afflicted passengers, like me, remained in their rooms because there was no more quarantine space. Since the dreaded c-word was never mentioned nor any formal acknowledgement that there might be a problem on board, there is no way to know exactly how many passengers had been affected. I figured it had to be in the hundreds.

Following the intervention by our children, who were now taking over all decisions from their distressed, elderly parents, the plan was to ditch the original trip we had planned to Edinburgh, Scotland, where we were supposed to meet old friends and instead to take the first flight out from Copenhagen to Washington. After we understood that all our flights and accommodations would be cancelled, we heard from Andrew the next day that it actually was not possible to get a direct flight from Copenhagen to anywhere in the U.S. due to the major Scandinavian airline, SAS, not flying. Rebooking from Copenhagen  to Washington was said to take weeks.

What? All our plans cancelled and now we find we are not even able to get to the U.S. from Copenhagen? Surely, he must jest.

Well, he did not jest, but fortunately we had not lost our reservations on the flight to Edinburgh or the flight home. Back to the original schedule.

The two days we spent in a B&B, stately townhouse on a quiet street within walking distance of charming, downtown Edinburgh were fabulous. We met our British friends, Roger, and his wife, Geraldine, there, who joined us in the B&B and spent a wonderful two days with them– dinner at a nice restaurant a few blocks away, a tour of this fabulous, ancient city on a hop-on-hop-off bus, followed by a spectacular ride along the coast in their car. I was feeling weak but able to enjoy the time with them immensely.

What eventually did me in, however, were the airports. We had to take two flights. The first was on a British budget airline, Easy Jet, to Edinburgh from Copenhagen. The second was on a United flight from Edinburgh to Washington Dulles. The huge Copenhagen airport was in chaos, with thousands of distressed passengers trying to deal with the SAS crisis. Lines could be measured in miles rather than yards. We arrived at 9:00 AM for a 12:30 PM flight and barely made it. My iPhone pedometer measured the distance from the check-in to the gate at 1.7 miles. By the time we stumbled into the packed airplane, we were both exhausted.

Even though the Edinburgh airport is only a small fraction of the size of the Copenhagen airport, it was just as crowded and woefully understaffed. It took over an hour standing in line to get our bags checked, an hour and 20 minutes to get through the security check point, and another 45 minutes to get through passport control, then a run to the gate to catch the flight with only a few minutes to spare. The widebody airplane was jampacked. Finally, arriving at Dulles was not much easier. I had never seen so many people in line to get through passport control. My guess was well over 500 people and almost a two-hour wait, standing in line.

And by the way, at none of these airports was anyone wearing a face mask except the Iron Lady and her beleaguered traveling companion. Ok, maybe a few, but still you had to look hard to see anyone masked.

“What on earth is going on?” we asked each other. “Don’t they realize covid is still here?”

Well, you can imagine by this time what my body was saying: “Look, I rallied and got you off the ship. I got you to Edinburg. I got you back to the U.S. I even gutted it out so you could have a good time in Scotland. And you put me through this? I’m done.”

I collapsed on July 9^th, the day we stumbled into our apartment. Today, July 14, is the first day I have been able even sit up. Some of the same covid symptoms returned with a vengeance, but mostly for the last five days I have been overcome with complete and total exhaustion. You don’t mess around with covid. I could have been a dead duck. But what were the options? I pictured myself in one of the beds in a converted warehouse begging for food and a cup of tea.

And as for the overall experience?

“Well, Mrs. Lincoln, other than that, how did you enjoy the play…?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Note the date above, July 6. I have not posted since June 27—nine days ago. What is going on? Why no posts?

The first peculiar observation on board ship that was a harbinger of what was to come appeared on the day before my last post, that is, on June 26. In walking back to our stateroom I was blocked from going down the corridor by a huge door that had a big sign on it saying “no  admission, staff only.” In trying to maneuver around it by taking another hallway, I realized that about a fourth of the entire deck 5 was now off limits, which would translate to between 50 and 80 staterooms. I asked one of the stewards about it who replied, “Water pipe issue, they are working on it.”

Odd, I thought, and wondered how the passengers in the affected area were dealing with it. There was not so much as a word on the loudspeaker from the captain or anyone else about an emergency that would shut down 50 or more staterooms. Could it have something to do with covid? At no point so far in the journey had the “C-word” been uttered by anyone. It was taboo on this vessel. People had signed up for a good time, and the Holland America people were determined to do all in their power not to worry people needlessly and ruin their vacations.

Just to ease my curiosity, later in the day I asked another steward, who said he was not sure but thought it was an electrical issue of some sort. Still no official word: All fun and games, jewelry shows, piano bars, playing the slots, weight loss and wrinkle reduction classes, and all sorts of other fun stuff. And during this time, practically the only person wearing a mask in common areas besides all of the crew was one Embry Howell, henceforth to be referred to as “Iron Lady” for reasons soon to become apparent.

The next two days, June 28 and 29 involved stunning and spectacular land excursions to wild and scenic Iceland—towering cliffs, snow capped peaks, tiny fishing villages, long underground tunnels, majestic waterfalls—everything you would expect from one of the most isolated and magical spots on the planet.

Two events of note occurred on those two days. First, on June 28 I started feeling a little weak and had a slight cough, but, hey, no problem, just a normal cold. I took a covid test that afternoon to be sure, and it came out negative. So far so good.  Also that day we discovered that yet another hallway on the ship had been shut down and cordoned off, this time on level 4, effectively taking offline another 50-80 staterooms. Still no announcement and no mask protocols other than “masks recommended  but not required.” The Iron Lady was one of the few paying attention and wearing her mask all the time in common areas when not eating or drinking.

When I asked a steward pushing a cart of dishes as the door blocking level 5 opened, my inquiry was answered truthfully for the first time. “That is where they put the covid people.”

Mystery solved, but what did this mean, and why no information from the ship?

Then on the Iceland excursion on June 29, I probably should have stayed back because I was feeling worse; but since I had tested negative the previous afternoon, I decided to go on the excursion with Embry  to see glaciers and geysers. To my embarrassment, I coughed under my mask almost incessantly. When we returned to the ship, the cruise director came on the speaker announcing that masking was now mandatory in all common areas. By that time I was feeling terrible.

There was no mention of the dreaded word, “covid,” but  there was not a person on board who did not know exactly what was going on.

Party over.

That evening the symptoms set in—a throat so sore that it was painful to swallow, an incessant hacking cough, occasional chills, aching muscles, at times minor issues with breathing, and near total exhaustion. The next morning I called the medical center, and within an hour the PCR test was administered and the results conclusive: Covid 19.

No surprise.

 The nurse informed me of the rules: I  was now officially quarantined and would remain quarantined for at least five days; and following that to get off  quarantine I would also need to have a negative covid test. Room cleaning would be suspended, and no crew allowed in the room. Meal delivery would continue. At the end of the cruise, all covid passengers still quarantined would be transferred to a hotel exclusively for covid victims.

The good news was that since Embry’s test was negative, she was free to come and go as she pleased. The idea of a covid free person having to go to a covid hotel, however, was for her not a pleasing thought. It is still a mystery why she did not pick up the disease from me. In any event the Iron Lady’s persistence in wearing masks in common areas, even though not required, paid off.

The nurse almost apologized that because the ship’s covid isolation areas were totally full I would have to remain in our stateroom rather than relocate. When I asked her how many people  had covid on the ship, she said that she was not allowed to say. A couple  of days later I asked the same question to a person I presumed was a doctor who paused, took a deep breath and replied “Not above ten percent of the passengers but counting.” Six staterooms surrounding our room all were eating delivered meals.

Catastrophe, I thought. That would mean at a minimum 150-200 passengers with covid. Embry and I were the lucky ones. We have been on a lot of cruises and have seen a lot of the world. What about the people who had never been on a cruise before or those who had saved up for an experience of a lifetime? Plus, by some miracle, Embry, the Iron Lady, was fine and able to continue going on excursions and enjoying the amenities. What about the people whose spouse or partner was also sick or people traveling alone?   

The next five days were not happy ones for me or Embry. I was as sick as I can ever recall, and I have had a lot of bad respiratory viruses over the years including three bouts with pneumonia. I thought having had two vaccinations and two boosters was supposed to keep the virus at bay even if you got it. But, hey, I am alive, and that could well be the saving grace of the vaccine. Without it, for me  and probably many other covid victims on the ship (No one was allowed on the cruise who was not fully vaccinated), the ending could have been truly tragic.

It was not an easy time for the Iron Lady either. Embry was exhausted trying to take care of me plus overwhelmed by the thought of having to cancel and rebook at least three flights and one B&B. She has spent the better part of the last two days trying to get the flight from Edinburg to Washington rebooked only to be hung up on several times by the travel agent.

Worried about their elderly parents, our two children, Andrew and Jessica, with help from their spouses, staged an intervention where they informed us they were now in charge of getting us home immediately after the cruise was over, which involved cancelling a side trip to Edinburgh to visit old friends and then to depart from Copenhagen rather than Edinburgh. Embry and I are so proud to have such responsible and caring children. The only wrinkle was (and is) that there are no flights from Copenhagen to Washington or anywhere else in the U.S. due to a pilot strike by SAS pilots. We are still trying to figure this one out.

We are now at a very nice airport hotel and have a flight out tomorrow morning to Edinburgh.

Stand by for the next post.

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Embry and I have been on several cruises starting in 2015.  This post is directed to those who have not had this experience.

Picture this: You are now taking your first cruise. Your cruise ship is motoring at 19 knots en route to Iceland from Norway. It is foggy, rainy and 45 degrees outside with plenty of sea motion as the vessel plows through six to 10-foot icy seas in the Norwegian Sea. No stopping in port until tomorrow morning around ten. But will that affect any of the 1,600 happy passengers aboard your Holland America vessel, the Nieuw Stantendam?

Never.

Why not?

Because there is so much to do and so much going on aboard ship. This will be your activity for today:

Your first activity will be breakfast, a huge, scrumptious feast on the Leido deck on the ninth level, where it takes up almost all of that level of the giant ship except for the two swimming pools, more accurately described as “splashing pools,” one covered, one not, each with a bar and three hot tubs  and in use 24/7. On your way to breakfast, every ship crew member you pass greets you warmly with what would be a broad smile if you could see it below his covid mask, and wishes you a great day. Some—and you have no idea how—will even know your name. All will have Filipino or Indonesian accents, which remarkably you can actually understand most of the time. How can they be so happy and courteous, you wonder? You silently wish everyone could be like that.

Your first decision will be what to have for breakfast. There are over a dozen dining venues on the ship, only two of which are included in the fee, the main dining room and the informal, massive Leido Deck dining, which is set up like an upscale food court. That choice makes the most sense since the food is terrific and already paid for. The ship’s “food court” on the Leido Deck must have more than a dozen food stations serving the most delicious breakfast food you have ever seen. So many choices. You decide to go easy this morning and order from the chef behind the glass Eggs Benedict, two Danish, freshly baked pastries, a bowl of fresh fruit, bacon, sausage, and a side order of blue berry pancakes. Once you find an open table, your waiter appears immediately with juice, coffee, and if you like, a Bloody Mary, which you may order for an extra charge, but it does not seem extra because only ship cards are used, not credit cards. The view out the window is usually magnificent though in the fog, today you can’t see much.

You consider going back for seconds but rule it out because the first activity of the morning is about to start. You rush to the main auditorium called “Millennium Stage” just in time to hear the cruise social director talk about all the fun things you can do today—a lecture about “diamond basics,” a pottery class, several jewelry presentations by the ship’s jewelry shop vendors, spa appointments that are still available, special skin treatment options, perfume testing, dance classes, music recitals,  ping pong and pickle ball tournaments, wine tasting, whisky tasting, or a workout in the world class fitness center. These are just the starters. So many things and so little time. Morning concerts, afternoon concerts, evening concerts, lectures, and affinity group gatherings. Good heavens, how to choose? You scan the activities flier and count the options. There are 81 possibilities.

So you decide to start off with the lecture, “How to Eat More and Weigh Less,” which you believe is timely as you pause at one of the ships dozen or so coffee spots where you can pick up a quick latte and muffin. You pass by an abs class and a stress-and-release class before changing your mind and deciding to take the Tai Chi class, which turns out to be fine. So now it is time for your morning break and for another latte and pastry. Then you pass by the “bridge play” area, another group playing  Mahgong, a large group playing a trivia  game, and you decide to catch a little of a talk on acupuncture before settling on the jewelry auction preview and how to tell a good diamond from a bad one. Unfortunately, there is not enough time for the fitness center. That will be an afternoon activity. It is now time for lunch. My, how time flies!

You could choose between a dozen options but decide on the Leido again because the breakfast was so good. The lunch choices offered in the food stations are even more appealing than breakfasts—salads of all types, fresh fruit, quiche, sushi, pizza, several kinds of stew, lamb, roast beef, tempura, fried chicken, and more kinds of sandwiches than you knew existed. You settle for a cheese burgher with fries with a pecan pie and vanilla ice cream for dessert.

Now it is time to go up to the observation deck for a short rest before attending your favorite afternoon activity. On the way you are tempted to join a bingo event or a class on mixing Old Fashions and Mai Tais, cost only $15. You pass by Rye Whisky tasting, but the cost is more, $35, and the sun is not even up above the yard arm. You note that the class is SRO and conclude there could be some on the ship with a drinking problem. You decide to go to the observation deck instead.

You reach one of the ships 20 high speed elevators, punch in floor 12 where you stroll into the observation lounge and bar where over a hundred relaxed passengers are sitting in easy chairs looking out the windows where they are watching the clouds lift and sipping cappuccinos or white wine. You find the perfect chair, order your white wine and think about going to the World Class Fitness Center.  Just as you are about to doze off after finishing your wine, you glance at your watch and realize that High Tea is about to start. Oh, my goodness!  You can’t miss that, so you charge off, pass by the fitness center and after passing the diamond, apparel, and perfume shops arrive at the elegant main dining room as about a dozen groups are sitting around large tables where waiters in suits and wearing white gloves are serving petite sandwiches, tea, and sparkling wine. A string trio is playing in the background.

The elegant tea lasts a couple of hours with a lot more sparkling wine served than tea, but, hey, how often do you get to take a cruise?

You look around and notice that almost everyone sipping tea and sparkling wine seems to be pretty old, lots of white hair, wrinkles, some canes and a walker or two. If you didn’t know better, you would think you were in a retirement community. As you think more about it, most of the other passengers on the ship are not spring chicks either. It figures, you conclude, old folks have the time and the money. Also, pretty neat, you conclude. We humans keep on trying to squeeze the last drops out of the lemon.

And what else about the passengers? Most seem to be Americans but not all. However, you realize that you have seen few persons of color. A family or two from Asia and one  African American. What is that all about? Time or money? Something wrong here.

Finally, you make a mental note of the large number of overweight people, many actually quite obese, and wonder what that could be all about. You think about all that you have already consumed. Frequent cruisers?

The balance of your afternoon is a mirror image of the earlier part of the day but on steroids. A blues band is playing here, then a rock band there, and there are several dance venues going on.  Bars are open around every corner, many with music and entertainment. There is just enough time to take a dip in the pool and warm up in a hot tub, then head back to your stateroom for a brief nap, shower and to get dressed for the evening.

The highlight of the evening is a delicious, three course dinner in the elegant main dining room. The service is terrific, and it is nice to see everyone all dressed up. You heard that only a few years ago, black ties were required for men and evening gowns for women, but nowadays that has loosened up though ties and jackets for men are encouraged.

To finish off your day, you take in the magic show on the Millennium Stage, stroll through the jam-packed casino watching people play the slots, blackjack, and poker. You have just enough time to stop for a nightcap and second desert at the piano bar and get back to your cabin around eleven where your bed has been turned down and chocolate candy has been placed on your pillow.

“Tomorrow,” you softly tell yourself, “Tomorrow, I will get to the World Class Fitness Center.”

You call it a day.

                                                                                                     ****

While this scenario makes the assumption that you are alone, this is rarely the case. You will probably be traveling with a companion, spouse, or a family group. But there are those who do travel alone: former frequent cruiser widows, who love the experience and do not want to give it up even after losing their husband. On this cruise there are several groups of four or five elderly women who appear to be traveling together. There are also opportunities for singles to become part of affinity groups. A singles group meets every afternoon at cocktail hour time; and in the main dining room, a single diner will be asked if he or she would like to be seated at a table with others. “Friends of Bill” meetings and “Pride Gatherings” also happen every day.

And, of course, no one does every activity. Embry and I actually participate in very few of the activities, spending our time reading (Embry) and blogging (me) and alternating eating in the main dining room with a meal at the casual Leido Deck. We tried one of the dozen other restaurants once but did not think it was worth the extra cost. We take walks around the deck—three laps to the mile—and when the weather permits spend time on deck or on our balcony just taking in the natural beauty. Embry always gets in her daily swim. And there are plenty of land excursions along the way, which, of course, are the major reason for choosing a cruise in the first place.

And a taboo about discussing politics appears to be an unwritten rule. Not one word about the abortion Supreme Court decision, which if allowed to leave Pandora’s box, would surely alter the mood of the experience. You have paid your money. Let the controversial stuff rest until you get home.

(And, no, we do not devour food quite to the extreme as suggested here though a lot of passengers appear to. Even with trying to avoid excess, however, I know will have to lose five or so pounds when we return home.)

When all is said and done, in my view, what helps make a cruise special is the exceptional service and what surely feels like genuine friendliness from the people who do the cleaning, the heavy lifting, and fix stuff. All of them. No exceptions. You are treated like royalty, and, boy, does that feel good! I do not know how Holland America does it. Maybe it has something to do with the Asian temperament, since the cabin and wait crews are all from Indonesia or the Philippines. Maybe after two years of covid cancellations, these folks are just glad to be back to work.

Also note that with 1,600 passengers served by 1,300 crew comes out to .8 crew for each passenger! That has got to make a difference.

After a day or two of receiving warm greetings by the crew, passengers find themselves greeting each other with pleasant smiles. Why can’t we continue to be nice to one another  when we return home?  Why is this limited to a short voyage on a cruise ship sailing on the North Atlantic on one of the longest days of the year?

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