Nostalgia
Recommended
Some Definitions of Gratitude
Elizabeth GarciaOn our ride home from my brother’s house last Easter Sunday, having spent a few hours basking in our blessings of atonement and progeny, we pass an accident on the interstate. I say accident, though…
No Country for Nostalgia | Todd Robert Petersen, Picnic in the Ruins
English BrooksEven in the modesty of its title, Picnic in the Ruins is a deceptively ambitious novel. At once wry and gentle, its depiction of the various lives and stories that become snarled up in a…
Mischief and Ethnography Keith Norman. BUC: A Boy among the Saints
Linda Hoffman KimballBUC: A Boy among the Saints spans a “year in the life of an unregenerate 10 year old”—the endearing young rascal Wilford Bushman. Wilf, like most in his rural Utah community of Anti-Nephi-Lehi, is “BUC”—“born…
A Mormon Boy Meets a King
Henry Landon Miles“Stop gawking at that guy,” Mother said, as I stood staring at a man while shopping in a five and dime store in Idaho Falls. I had never seen a black person before. I stood…
Pioneer Day
Tinesha Capri Zandamela“Tinesha, we found your relative’s headstone,” reads the email subject line. And then, a few days later: “Tinesha, your 4th great-grandmother was born in Finland.” From details of pioneer companies to the stories of my…
My Mother’s Eclipse
Steven L. PeckMy Mother died on July 13, 2017.
One late afternoon about a month later, on August 20, 2017 to be exact, my friend Steve and his wife Jill picked me up along with my adult son Jaron to chase the total eclipse tacking across the United States the next day.
The Provo Tabernacle and Interfaith Collaboration
Kim AbunuwaraIn October of 1996, Father William Flegge and his St. Francis of Assisi parish in Provo had a problem. Renovations had left their beautiful Spanish Mission–style building unsafe for the high volume of parishioners expected for the upcoming Christmas services. That was when Father Flegge telephoned LDS Church headquarters to ask if Christmas Mass could be held at the Provo Tabernacle. In addition to welcoming Father Flegge and his flock to the tabernacle, LDS leaders invited them to bring into the tabernacle whatever sacred dress, objects, and symbols they needed to realize this important ceremony.Julie Boerio-Goates, pastoral coordinator for the parish, had plenty of experience staging Mass in the three-hundred-seat St. Francis building but was nervous about staging it in the two-thousand-seat tabernacle. The parish moved a lot of materials necessary for Christmas Mass from the St. Francis church, but since the tabernacle was so much bigger than St. Francis, more set dressing was needed. Serendipitously, seminarian Patrick Elliot had just been assigned to the parish as an assistant. Elliot had a good eye and knew where to find additional decorations. On December 24, two Christmas Masses were held in the evening and one at midnight.These services provide a vivid illustration of the Provo Tabernacle’s use for interfaith cooperation.
Ice Fishing
Douglas Thayer“Why you want to go out and sit all day on the ice just to catch a fish, I’ll never know. Ed, you’re going to freeze to death one of these days, or catch pneumonia.” …
Home Again: Part Three of Immortal for Quite Some Time
Scott AbbottI know the standard plot lines, the ones that move from desire to fulfillment, or from desire to fulfillment to tragedy. As this story follows its meanders I don’t find myself to be a satisfied, fulfilled member of my church, but neither is mine the story of a brave individual triumphantly separating himself from an abusive religion. I live chapters of each of these stories. But always intermediary chapters, it seems, never the climactic ones. Absent is the single seductive strand that engages and satisfies—and falsifies. What will it mean to finish this manuscript? To finish writing about my brother? To finish thinking about him? To abandon him again? To jettison this means of access to our past and present experience?
Some Definitions of Gratitude
Elizabeth GarciaOn our ride home from my brother’s house last Easter Sunday, having spent a few hours basking in our blessings of atonement and progeny, we pass an accident on the interstate. I say accident, though…
No Country for Nostalgia | Todd Robert Petersen, Picnic in the Ruins
English BrooksEven in the modesty of its title, Picnic in the Ruins is a deceptively ambitious novel. At once wry and gentle, its depiction of the various lives and stories that become snarled up in a…
Mischief and Ethnography Keith Norman. BUC: A Boy among the Saints
Linda Hoffman KimballBUC: A Boy among the Saints spans a “year in the life of an unregenerate 10 year old”—the endearing young rascal Wilford Bushman. Wilf, like most in his rural Utah community of Anti-Nephi-Lehi, is “BUC”—“born…
A Mormon Boy Meets a King
Henry Landon Miles“Stop gawking at that guy,” Mother said, as I stood staring at a man while shopping in a five and dime store in Idaho Falls. I had never seen a black person before. I stood…
Pioneer Day
Tinesha Capri Zandamela“Tinesha, we found your relative’s headstone,” reads the email subject line. And then, a few days later: “Tinesha, your 4th great-grandmother was born in Finland.” From details of pioneer companies to the stories of my…
Sweater
Theric JepsonHorizontal stripes
black and white
My Mother’s Eclipse
Steven L. PeckMy Mother died on July 13, 2017.
One late afternoon about a month later, on August 20, 2017 to be exact, my friend Steve and his wife Jill picked me up along with my adult son Jaron to chase the total eclipse tacking across the United States the next day.
The Provo Tabernacle and Interfaith Collaboration
Kim AbunuwaraIn October of 1996, Father William Flegge and his St. Francis of Assisi parish in Provo had a problem. Renovations had left their beautiful Spanish Mission–style building unsafe for the high volume of parishioners expected for the upcoming Christmas services. That was when Father Flegge telephoned LDS Church headquarters to ask if Christmas Mass could be held at the Provo Tabernacle. In addition to welcoming Father Flegge and his flock to the tabernacle, LDS leaders invited them to bring into the tabernacle whatever sacred dress, objects, and symbols they needed to realize this important ceremony.Julie Boerio-Goates, pastoral coordinator for the parish, had plenty of experience staging Mass in the three-hundred-seat St. Francis building but was nervous about staging it in the two-thousand-seat tabernacle. The parish moved a lot of materials necessary for Christmas Mass from the St. Francis church, but since the tabernacle was so much bigger than St. Francis, more set dressing was needed. Serendipitously, seminarian Patrick Elliot had just been assigned to the parish as an assistant. Elliot had a good eye and knew where to find additional decorations. On December 24, two Christmas Masses were held in the evening and one at midnight.These services provide a vivid illustration of the Provo Tabernacle’s use for interfaith cooperation.
Ice Fishing
Douglas Thayer“Why you want to go out and sit all day on the ice just to catch a fish, I’ll never know. Ed, you’re going to freeze to death one of these days, or catch pneumonia.” …
Home Again: Part Three of Immortal for Quite Some Time
Scott AbbottI know the standard plot lines, the ones that move from desire to fulfillment, or from desire to fulfillment to tragedy. As this story follows its meanders I don’t find myself to be a satisfied, fulfilled member of my church, but neither is mine the story of a brave individual triumphantly separating himself from an abusive religion. I live chapters of each of these stories. But always intermediary chapters, it seems, never the climactic ones. Absent is the single seductive strand that engages and satisfies—and falsifies. What will it mean to finish this manuscript? To finish writing about my brother? To finish thinking about him? To abandon him again? To jettison this means of access to our past and present experience?
Ode to Joy!
Robert A. ReesOne of the joys of being married to my late wife Ruth is that she opened the world of sacred music to me. I had grown up in a culturally deprived home, with no inkling of another world with such creatures in it as Bach, Mozart, Byrd, Beethoven, Hayden, and Handel. Shortly after we were married, Ruth took me to hear Bach’s great Passion According to St. Matthew at the First Congregational Church in Madison, Wisconsin. My feeling was like that of a man I once saw in a film. After being institutionalized for some years, he had gone to a performance of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.
Grass Whistles
Anita TannerChildren’s fingers folded in,
thumbs aligned,
hands heart-shaped,
knuckled boxes.
Some Definitions of Gratitude
Elizabeth GarciaOn our ride home from my brother’s house last Easter Sunday, having spent a few hours basking in our blessings of atonement and progeny, we pass an accident on the interstate. I say accident, though…
No Country for Nostalgia | Todd Robert Petersen, Picnic in the Ruins
English BrooksEven in the modesty of its title, Picnic in the Ruins is a deceptively ambitious novel. At once wry and gentle, its depiction of the various lives and stories that become snarled up in a…
Mischief and Ethnography Keith Norman. BUC: A Boy among the Saints
Linda Hoffman KimballBUC: A Boy among the Saints spans a “year in the life of an unregenerate 10 year old”—the endearing young rascal Wilford Bushman. Wilf, like most in his rural Utah community of Anti-Nephi-Lehi, is “BUC”—“born…
A Mormon Boy Meets a King
Henry Landon Miles“Stop gawking at that guy,” Mother said, as I stood staring at a man while shopping in a five and dime store in Idaho Falls. I had never seen a black person before. I stood…
Pioneer Day
Tinesha Capri Zandamela“Tinesha, we found your relative’s headstone,” reads the email subject line. And then, a few days later: “Tinesha, your 4th great-grandmother was born in Finland.” From details of pioneer companies to the stories of my…
Sweater
Theric JepsonHorizontal stripes
black and white
My Mother’s Eclipse
Steven L. PeckMy Mother died on July 13, 2017.
One late afternoon about a month later, on August 20, 2017 to be exact, my friend Steve and his wife Jill picked me up along with my adult son Jaron to chase the total eclipse tacking across the United States the next day.
The Provo Tabernacle and Interfaith Collaboration
Kim AbunuwaraIn October of 1996, Father William Flegge and his St. Francis of Assisi parish in Provo had a problem. Renovations had left their beautiful Spanish Mission–style building unsafe for the high volume of parishioners expected for the upcoming Christmas services. That was when Father Flegge telephoned LDS Church headquarters to ask if Christmas Mass could be held at the Provo Tabernacle. In addition to welcoming Father Flegge and his flock to the tabernacle, LDS leaders invited them to bring into the tabernacle whatever sacred dress, objects, and symbols they needed to realize this important ceremony.Julie Boerio-Goates, pastoral coordinator for the parish, had plenty of experience staging Mass in the three-hundred-seat St. Francis building but was nervous about staging it in the two-thousand-seat tabernacle. The parish moved a lot of materials necessary for Christmas Mass from the St. Francis church, but since the tabernacle was so much bigger than St. Francis, more set dressing was needed. Serendipitously, seminarian Patrick Elliot had just been assigned to the parish as an assistant. Elliot had a good eye and knew where to find additional decorations. On December 24, two Christmas Masses were held in the evening and one at midnight.These services provide a vivid illustration of the Provo Tabernacle’s use for interfaith cooperation.
Ice Fishing
Douglas Thayer“Why you want to go out and sit all day on the ice just to catch a fish, I’ll never know. Ed, you’re going to freeze to death one of these days, or catch pneumonia.” …
Home Again: Part Three of Immortal for Quite Some Time
Scott AbbottI know the standard plot lines, the ones that move from desire to fulfillment, or from desire to fulfillment to tragedy. As this story follows its meanders I don’t find myself to be a satisfied, fulfilled member of my church, but neither is mine the story of a brave individual triumphantly separating himself from an abusive religion. I live chapters of each of these stories. But always intermediary chapters, it seems, never the climactic ones. Absent is the single seductive strand that engages and satisfies—and falsifies. What will it mean to finish this manuscript? To finish writing about my brother? To finish thinking about him? To abandon him again? To jettison this means of access to our past and present experience?
Ode to Joy!
Robert A. ReesOne of the joys of being married to my late wife Ruth is that she opened the world of sacred music to me. I had grown up in a culturally deprived home, with no inkling of another world with such creatures in it as Bach, Mozart, Byrd, Beethoven, Hayden, and Handel. Shortly after we were married, Ruth took me to hear Bach’s great Passion According to St. Matthew at the First Congregational Church in Madison, Wisconsin. My feeling was like that of a man I once saw in a film. After being institutionalized for some years, he had gone to a performance of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.
Grass Whistles
Anita TannerChildren’s fingers folded in,
thumbs aligned,
hands heart-shaped,
knuckled boxes.