The Hebrew word that we translate as holy is qadosh, often defined as "set apart," but which could be accurately translated as "life intensity."  I was raised in a tradition that frowned on passion or any form of a passionate life, preferring all things sedate or restrained. Which is unfortunate, because a holy life is intently dynamic, ever evolving, a rich and passionate life (even if sometimes untidy and cluttered) to celebrate and savor and nurture.    

I spent most of this past week with Episcopalians, in Virginia's Shenandoah Valley at a Retreat Center (where if you climbed the hillside, you could look out over West Virginia). It is a gathering of kindred spirits--most full of vim and spunk. (A handful were a little eccentric and "out of plumb," but then, they are ones who make any gathering noteworthy, aren't they?) This group has been assembling each year--some for over two decades--because it is a place where they know they can put down their armor, and be nourished, and know that splintered parts of themselves can be mended or at least pieced together for the next stage of the journey. So we talked about returning to the truthfulness of who we are, and what it means to embrace passion and to live fully alive. And we didn't shy away from emotions, knowing that the gifts of tears and laughter are wrapped with same bow.