A rabbi and reverend keep the faith, even in retirement. They host senior meetups
Yes, it sounds like an age-old joke setup but it's actually the premise for a new conversation series held at a South Florida retirement community, Vi at Aventura, led by residents Minister Priscilla Felisky Whitehead and Rabbi Ralph Kingsley. Both have deep roots in South Florida's faith community, and they happen to be longtime friends.
'The whole point of this was to demonstrate that people who call themselves religious, albeit in totally different ways, can come out in the same place and have a sense of commonality between us,' said Kingsley, who served as the rabbi of Temple Sinai in North Dade for 31 years.
The two faith leaders organized the meetup — the first launched last month — to start a dialogue among residents about the role religion plays in life, offering their perspectives from a Christian and Jewish point of view.
Whitehead, who served over two decades at The Church by the Sea in Bal Harbour, emphasized that the leaders are 'seeking connection but not confrontation.'
'We're not here to persuade or to convince others of our positions necessarily,' she said. 'We're here to listen generously.'
In an intimate setting, about 20 residents circled up — some came as a couple — and discussed some of life's tough questions. Such as: What does it mean to be 'religious?' Why do some religions embrace inclusiveness while others believe to be the one true faith? Where is God during recent tragedies like the devastating flood in Texas and the war in Iran.
The topics were heavy, philosophical, but Kingsley and Whitehead kept things light — joking with each other about their tendency to disagree — 'We've been doing that for 36 years,' Whitehead said — despite their shared love for interfaith dialogue.
Kingsley said in his experience as a rabbi, people tend to define religiosity in different ways.
'I've had people come and say, 'I'm not religious, Rabbi,' And yet these are people who will come to synagogue on a fairly regular basis and live a very decent and good life,' he said.
The rabbi would tell his congregants that it's okay to be religious in their own way and even to believe in God in their own way.
'For me the question is not who is God or what is God, but rather the question that Micah asks, What does God require of you?'
The 'business of God'
Passing the microphone around the room, residents began chiming in.
Peter Fuchs, said he grew up Catholic, but was 'persecuted as a Jew,' due to the fact that he had a Jewish mother. He remembers sitting through Latin Catholic masses at school. Today he said he believes in God, but rejected most of the Catholic dogma and traditions that didn't resonate with him.
'Once I got out of there, I couldn't wait to get rid of it. It just bothered me, the guilt, the discomfort of sitting on my knees on benches,' he said. 'The only thing I liked about it was the music. I don't know why I am that way.'
'It's your Jewish mother,' Kingsely joked.
'I've struggled with this business of God for a long time,' Fuchs continued. 'To me, God begins where our understanding of this world ends. There are a lot of things we simply cannot comprehend … So God fills that void where we have to go when we don't understand things. God is basically a part of us.'
Whitehead, who has lead interfaith conversations for years during her involvement with the Miami Coalition of Christians and Jews, (now called Mosaic Miami), said many older people who are facing the 'twilight' stage of their lives begin grappling with questions of faith in new ways.
'Wherever you are on your spiritual journey, that's where God is. That captures it for me, because it builds on a Christian understanding of God's desire to be in a relationship with us.'
Another resident, Barry Glassman, a psychiatrist, said his understanding of religion takes on a more psychological explanation. He explored the function of religion: 'There are so many different religions in the world, so the question is what need does that serve? Not which is the right one.'
He said that humans often seek a higher power due to our need to 'recapture the idealized parental image.' He explained that people seek a protector, a saviour, or 'some power, some help in the universe to make us feel comfortable.'
Veronica Fuchs spoke about a traumatic experience she had with her son and the Catholic church. After her son passed away, she went to therapy seeking help and answers.
'I told her everything that had happened to our son by a priest and this and that, and she said, So what are you going to do about it? I said, I don't know. I'm very angry. I'm very angry, and now that our son is gone, I'm even angrier, because it never got settled,' she said.
The therapist suggested, 'How about you forgive them.'
The conversation at times turned political and topical. Some residents pointed out that many global conflicts have revolved around religion in one way or another.
Arnie Drill raised a similar point, questioning how religions can overcome the idea that there is one true belief system.
'Do we reach a point .. where it gets to the extreme point that it now becomes a negative in our society?' he asked.
Kingsley said this is the million dollar question about religion.
'If we get to a point where our commitment to our own way of life is so encompassing that it shuts out any other way of life. I think that becomes an abuse of religion,' he said.
His view is that 'there is room for other ways of thinking.'
Gwen Rianhard had a more positive take. She said that religions were meant to help humans live in harmony with one another.
'There is a God who created us in the purpose of us being together in love,' she said.
'Something that I find here that's very beautiful, is that we all are here together to spend the rest of our days, and that is so incredible … I love that we're doing this together.'
This story was produced with financial support from Trish and Dan Bell and from donors comprising the South Florida Jewish and Muslim Communities, including Khalid and Diana Mirza, in partnership with Journalism Funding Partners. The Miami Herald maintains full editorial control of this work.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Fox News
7 hours ago
- Fox News
Faith in the Midst of the Storm: Fr. Joshua Whitfield on Deadly TX Floods
For parishioners and staff of St. Rita's Catholic Church, making sense of tragedy and trauma alongside the belief in a loving God is not a spiritual exercise, but a stark reality in the wake of the devasting flood waters that took the lives of two young parishioners, Blair and Brooke Harber. The sisters, 11 and 13, were found fifteen miles downstream from the cabin they slept in with their grandparents; their bodies still clinging to one another. On this episode of Lighthouse Faith podcast, Fr. Joshua Whitfield, pastor of St. Rita's, talks about faith in a God who would allow young children with so much passion for their faith to die so suddenly and tragically. Father Whitfield explains how their faith in so many ways has been deepened; how the girls' heartbroken parents have been comforted through the Catholic Mass, knowing that Jesus is not some distant deity, but the God who died on a cross and is with them in their sorrow and pain. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit


Boston Globe
9 hours ago
- Boston Globe
Basho was an elitist, Thoreau a codependent
I'm a baby boomer. My students were Gen Z. We had different views on things. I expected our classroom discussions to be lively. But still. I heard their thoughts on the reading with outright admiration and stunned incredulity. The whiplash could be unnerving. Get The Gavel A weekly SCOTUS explainer newsletter by columnist Kimberly Atkins Stohr. Enter Email Sign Up Consider poor Basho! The 17th-century Japanese poet walking in the cold rain wearing his sandals and paper coat was apparently an elitist. Wendell Berry — poet, farmer, agrarian essayist, and activist — is crystal clear on his practice of Christian faith, but my students argued that he was actually a Buddhist. And certainly it was jarring to think of Ralph Waldo Emerson and the Transcendentalists as imperialist oppressors. Henry Thoreau (no filter!) didn't have a chance. While rapturous in considerations of solitude, he socialized and dined with friends — often! Obviously, a codependent. And could we read Norman Maclean's classic 'A River Runs Through It' — a story about two brothers, family, God, and trout fishing — from an eco-feminist perspective? Advertisement These reactions to the literature startled me, to put it mildly. But it was hard not to see a certain imagination at work here. For all his humility and deficient outerwear, Basho was an educated man, which likely did qualify him as an elitist of his time. Berry himself identifies as a marginal Christian, and his thinking is not exactly conventional; and perhaps there are beliefs in which these two spheres of faith converge. And of course Thoreau infuriates all of us, especially those of us who most admire him. As with so many original thinkers, he contradicts himself constantly and with endless enthusiasm. 'He is such a geek. A total nerd. But I still love him,' one student concluded. Mark Twain had an admiration for new technologies of the time yet lamented the loss of river life, conflicting sensibilities familiar to us today. Advertisement My students learned about human inconsistencies in belief and temperament. Discovering the ambiguities and minor hypocrisies of those we hold in high regard is part of education. Theirs and mine. Facing up to our own partialities and discriminations comes into it as well. Maybe more to the point, their lack of interest in dogma allowed for unconstrained and broad interpretation. A contempt for established doctrine led them to evaluate the reading in ways that were — needless to say — new to me. Which is probably as it should be. Confounding questions and alternative perspectives have a rightful place in environmental thinking today. How we think and what we do in the natural world now is often confused, complex, contradictory. Beliefs and behaviors defy one another constantly. Knowledge and experience are often at odds. Our ideals and practices are often freakishly out of alignment. Advertisement So what's a college professor to do? Meet our students where they are, as the saying goes today. Although we may all still be in the woods, it helps if we can partner up to learn the names of the trees, the shapes of the leaves. And as a new academic year begins, I'd like to think my own abiding regard for the canon can find a convergence with the unorthodox perspectives offered by my students. Actually, it could even make for the kind of thinking that comes close to what Thoreau advocated more than 150 years ago: not knowledge so much as a 'sympathy with intelligence.' He elaborates only by suggesting 'that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in our philosophy,' an inclusiveness in sensibility that my students and I might even agree on.
Yahoo
21 hours ago
- Yahoo
Texas's Camp Mystic was ‘a place of joy'. Floods turned it into a site of great loss
The loss of 27 campers and counsellors from Camp Mystic to the Texas Hill Country flood may serve, at a terrible cost, to expand its considerable reputation across Texas and beyond. Even as the floods claimed more lives along the valley – at least 120 confirmed dead and 160 people unaccounted for as of Tuesday – the loss of several 'Mystic Girls' has dominated the headlines. The camp, which offers two four-week terms and one two-week term over the summer, has been the go-to summer camp for daughters of Texans for nearly a century. It's so popular that fathers have been known to call the registrar to get their daughters on the list from the delivery room. The camp, which spans more than 700 acres, has been widely described as an all-girls Christian camp, lending an image of baptisms in the river, but the religious component may be overstated: the camp is known as one of dozens along the Guadalupe River where Texan families send their young to escape the brutal heat of the lowlands. Related: Everything we know about Texas flooding – with visuals Now at least one-half of Camp Mystic, which was due to celebrate its centenary next year, lies in ruins, torn apart by raging floodwaters. The sound of song and girls playing has been replaced by the sound of chainsaws and heavy equipment as 19 state agencies and thousands of volunteers work to search and clear mounds of flood debris along the river, including the muddied personal items of the campers. Five days after the flood, the task along the valley has become a search-and-recovery operation: no one has been rescued from the river alive since Friday. In addition to the lost girls, Camp Mystic's director, Richard 'Dick' Eastland, a fourth-generation owner of the camp, died while attempting to bring five girls to safety. 'It tugs at the heart of anyone in the world that sees the pictures of those little faces,' said Claudia Sullivan, author of a book on the Camp Mystic experience, Heartfelt: A Memoir of Camp Mystic Inspirations. 'To know that they were there, having the time of their life, that they were innocent, and then to be taken away in such a tragic event – it takes you to your knees.' Most alumni contacted by the Guardian indicated they were too upset to discuss the camp, or its reputation, as Texas Monthly put it in a 2011 article, for serving 'as a near-flawless training ground for archetypal Texas women'. It has served generations of Texas women, often from well-to-do or politically connected Texas families, including the former first lady Laura Bush, who was a counsellor, and the daughters and granddaughters of Lyndon Johnson, former secretary of state James Baker, and Texas governors Price Daniel, Dan Moody and John Connally. *** The camp may have been incorrectly characterized as a 'Christian' camp. 'That evokes the idea of church camp but that's not the case,' said Sullivan. 'It's a private camp for girls that holds Christian values. When I was there we spent a lot of time talking about being kind to one another and having compassion, and there were people from other denominations and faiths.' Camp Mystic is better understood, Sullivan added, as being in a place free from pressure. 'You're in nature, in a beautiful setting, and really removed from the world', said Sullivan. 'It's a place of joy and innocence – or was. My sense is that it will definitely be rebuilt, but it's awfully early.' The outpouring of grief and rush to support the community have been striking. A church memorial service was held on Monday in San Antonio for the 'Mystic girls' who had been lost. Many dressed in the camp's green and white, together in song and prayer. It was not possible to get to the camp on Tuesday, a tailback of 2.5 hours extended across the seven miles from Hunt, the nearest hamlet, to Camp Mystic. At the season's peak in July and August, the camp hosted 750 girls aged between seven and 17 years old – that's more than half of Hunt's population of about 1,300. At Ingram, a riverbank town that also lost dozens from RV camps and homes to the flood, emergency workers and volunteers were pitching in, in many cases in the hope of recovering people still lost, and many bodies probably hidden under large piles of river debris, shattered homes and mangled possessions. John Sheffield, owner of Ingram's Ole Ingram Grocery, said the flood had not recognized social differences and nor would the recovery effort: 'This is Americans taking care of Americans. There's been such a tremendous outpouring of support and compassion.' Down by the river, search crews were continuing to comb through debris and mud. Claud Johnson, the mayor of Ingram, was operating a digger up by Hunt. An EMS van pulled up, suggesting another body had been found. Helicopters continued to move overhead despite an incident on Monday when one was struck by a privately operated drone and was forced to make an emergency landing. There's been such a tremendous outpouring of support and compassion John Sheffield Three baristas from the Aftersome Coffee stand in San Antonio had come up to serve recovery workers. Allyson Bebleu said she had gone to church camp and it had given her some of her fondest memories. 'It's not just for the wealthiest families, people of all types go to camp,' she said. 'Everyone is putting themselves in the shoes of the Camp Mystic girls. It's tragic.' Camp Mystic was also the subject of a controversial video recently posed by Sade Perkins, a former member of Houston's Food Insecurity Board. Perkins was 'permanently removed' by John Whitmire, the Houston mayor, after she called Camp Mystic a 'whites only' conservative Christian camp without even 'a token Asian, they don't have a token Black person'. Richard Vela, whose 13-year-old daughter Maya was evacuated from a nearby camp, Camp Honey Creek, on Friday and was still too upset to discuss it, said Perkins' comments 'were not right. You don't talk about people like that. There's a lot of death going on and they still haven't found everybody.' *** Bruce Jerome, who was manning an outreach for flood survivors in Ingram, said he had known Jane Ragsdale, the director and longtime co-owner of Heart O' the Hills Camp, in Hunt, Texas, who had died in the flooding. 'She was just genuinely wonderful,' Jerome said. Further down the track to the river was Josey Garcia, a Democratic representative for San Antonio in the Texas state house. She and her team were also picking through the debris, pointing out vast piles that still need to be be sifted through. Garcia, a military veteran, said it was important to come 'and collaborate with our neighbors here to recover those that are missing and help Kerr county clean up. We've had folks coming from Laredo and outstate Kansas to lend assistance. It's showing the spirit of Texas – when it comes to lives being devastated it's our duty to step.' Garcia, too, rejected negative characterizations of Camp Mystic. 'I've been hearing a lot of the rhetoric that's been going around. This is not the time for those types of distinctions. I don't care who was at the camp. All I know is that there are parents and families that are missing their loved ones. Whether it's rich Caucasian children or any other children, we'd still be there.'