Many years ago when I was working in New York I found myself on a bus with a friend, arguing about religion.  We had known each other since we were children in Hawaii; she was an atheist, or maybe an agnostic (I was never really sure), I was Roman Catholic, and religion had always been a strange area of silence and even strain between us, one of the few things we rarely talked about during slumber parties or after-school walks to the ice cream store.  And now here we were in our twenties, living in New York, starting our adult lives, and she wanted to know why I still went to church every Sunday.  I felt curiously shy and inarticulate, trying to talk about my faith in front of this person I had known for most of my life.

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But she continued to push, asking me to explain…

Our newborn child is now two weeks old. The experience of labor, delivery, birth, family leave, sleep deprivation, cuddling, feeding, changing diapers, cat naps, washing miniature clothes, et al, has left many impressions upon me.

One of the deeper impressions has to do with hospitality and gift-giving. We’ve been receiving many generous gifts from many people and places ever since my wife’s first shower. And now the “meals-on-wheels” has kicked in. We’ve never eaten so good.

And having a baby in the house is an exercise in hospitality. Both the hospitality of others, who have been an invaluable help in taking care of our home, and our own hospitality in welcoming friends and family to visit the new addition to our household. All of which has been a exhilarating source of joy and gratitude.

What strikes me, though, is how all this connects with religious ethics. (Yeah, this is what you get when…