In this reflective episode, Stephen considers what it means to truly “take care of business” in a life. Inspired by a friend confronting grief and his own birthday, he asks a simple but searching question: If our lives ended today, could we say we had faced the difficult inner work presented to us? A meditation on mortality, peace, and living with fewer things left unresolved.

Transcript:Over the years I’ve been privy to crucial moments in people’s lives. Births, weddings, various life events, and, of course, death. I have always considered this a very, very great privilege. It has kept me close to things that really matter, close to a wide arc of profound human experience. Recently I spoke with someone who’s good friend was in the final stage of an advanced cancer. This 50ish-year-old acquaintance has been very emotionally attentive and caring. A reflective person, she said that her friend’s premature end was causing her to think about her own life, and it occurred to her that if she herself were to die today, that she could honestly say she had, in her words, “taken care of business.” That is, she had addressed most of the difficult, personal work that had been presented to her in her lifetime thus far. Not perfectly, she added, but sufficiently. After sitting with that for a moment I said that must give her a great sense of peace. She said the awareness came as little gift while processing her grief. /// As the timing turns out, I’m now composing this reflection on my birthday which is far closer to my final one than my first, and I’m wondering if I have “taken care of business.” In the deafening silence I realize this is a question worth holding on to... it will surely accompany me during my long walks in the woods ahead...

The story of Grandma Moses is a powerful reminder that our limitations don’t have to define what comes next. Reflecting on her remarkable late-in-life discovery alongside the wisdom of Viktor Frankl, Stephen explores one of our most enduring human freedoms: the ability to choose how we respond to whatever circumstances life puts before us.

Transcript:

Perhaps you know this story of challenging inspiration. I think it bears repeating. Anna Mary Robertson worked as a so-called, “hired girl” on a farm. She met and married a hired hand on that farm by the name of Tom Moses. They moved to a farm of their own and raised ten children. Anna loved to do needlework, but as she became older, her hands stiffened with arthritis. So she decided to try painting and found she could handle the paintbrush more easily. One day an art collector passed through her small town and saw her paintings in a drugstore. She had been discovered--at 77 years of age. She continued to paint until several months before her death at 101. Why do we now have the wonderful paintings by Grandma Moses each now valued upwards of two million dollars? Her hands were too stiff to embroider. Have you been thinking that maybe you’re too old, too young, too poor, too much in pain, too anything at all, to get unstuck from your present circumstance?

The wisdom of Holocaust survivor, Victor Fankl, has resonance here. He wrote: We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms -- to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way... Forces beyond your control can take away everything you possess except one thing, your freedom to choose how you will respond to the situation.

Choice is a powerful human tool. Perhaps the most powerful there is. And the beauty of it is, it’s available to everyone, everywhere, in every circumstance.

A childhood memory of catching frogs becomes a lasting lesson about cruelty, compassion, and the choices that shape who we become. Stephen reflects on the small moments that awaken our moral awareness—and reminds us that every choice we make about how we treat the world around us carries consequence.

Transcript:

On a long walk in the woods recently, I arrived at a marshy pond holding a chorus of bull frogs. I spied a comfortable place to sit on a log propped on a boulder where I could wallow in the calming effect of the lazy croaking. But after a short while a memory came to mind of how, as a young boy, I’d scour a stream’s edge hunting for frogs. The fun was all in the catching. Once in hand, the frog lost its appeal, so I’d grant its freedom and search for another willing to give a good chase. Timmy had other ideas. When Timmy caught frogs, he liked to squeeze them sideways forcing their wide mouths to open so he could pour gravel down their throats. I went frogging with Timmy exactly one time. Catch, fill with stones, toss away, cackle with glee, times ten. Though I was inarticulate then, Timmy’s actions brought me to an awareness of the range of choices we humans have, as though a little lightbulb had been turned on in some dark corner. I remember the incident clearly all these many years later. It was only frogs you might be thinking, but as the years have passed, I have met my share of adult Timmys who have found far bigger prey than frogs. Just as with that early glimmering, I’m reminded that at every turn in my life, in every moment, small or large, I have choices to make about how I intend to live in the world, and those choices have moral consequence.

In this reflective episode, Stephen Bauman explores the quiet moments that truly shape our lives. While birthdays, milestones, and major celebrations have their place, it is the unplanned conversations, shared walks, and everyday acts of presence that leave the deepest mark. A thoughtful invitation to slow down, pay attention, and invest in the relationships that matter most.

Transcript:

Parents of young children balance the demands of career and family life with varying degrees of success. Many plan around milestone events such as birthdays, yet they often overlook the fact that the most meaningful moments with children usually happen in small, unplanned ways. A walk to the store or a bedtime conversation can matter a whole lot more than a lifetime of expensive, carefully planned birthday parties. Brooding over the course of her life, Susan B. Anthony observed that “Sooner or later we all discover that the important moments in life are not the advertised ones—not the birthdays, the graduations, the weddings, not the great goals achieved. The real milestones are less prepossessing. They come to the door of memory unannounced, stray dogs that amble in, sniff around a bit, and simply never leave. Our lives are measured by these.” There’s good counsel here for parents. But then, since Anthony never had children of her own, her wisdom emerged from a lifetime of paying attention to the things that matter most. It’s probably worth repeating in these days of astonishing distraction that meaningful human relationship requires physical, that is, in person, time and attention. Time and attention -- the result of a grounding attitude and lifestyle, and not so much by occasionally marking the calendar of obligation.

This being my birthday month, it occurs to me that though I’ve had many a fun party--’cause I do like parties--nothing has defined my life more than the hours I’ve spent walking the woods or streets of New York, and most importantly, the “ambling stray dog” time with family, friends and so many others in conversation about the things that matter most.

A near-collision on a New York City street becomes an unexpected mirror for our own lives. Reflecting on outrage, anger, and the divisions that shape our daily interactions, Stephen explores how easily we lose sight of one another's humanity—and why practicing compassionate regard may be one of the most important disciplines for living well in turbulent times.

Transcript:

Walking to a doctor’s appointment in New York I was lost in thought about the current state of our democracy. I admit I was highly agitated and muttering under my breath. So only semiconscious of my surroundings, I stepped off the curb into the street as a car was making a left turn. It screeched to a halt just inches from my knees, and like a startled deer, I manage to look up in stupefaction, stunned and uncomprehending. The driver of what I now saw was a big Mercedes with blacked out windows leaned out of his open window and screamed a string of deafening epithets, paused and concluded with a well-punctuated, “Go to effing hell!” Now I think I’m a reasonably thick-skinned person, but that day I was caught off guard by the evident violence in the man who nearly ran me down. In fact, I rather suspect he wished he had. I know, because sometimes I’ve been sitting in the same seat, if not the very same car. Funny, how when I’m behind the wheel, pedestrians are annoying as hell, but when I’m walking it’s the drivers who ought to have their licenses revoked. Have you ever noticed that annoying irony?

This story comes to mind to share given the agitated state of many of us much of the time these days. I’m thinking that in the meantime of our daily today, its especially useful to maintain the discipline of compassionate regard for others while acknowledging our own propensity for extravagant outrage.

What kind of people are we becoming—and who is shaping the next generation? After a candid conversation with a thoughtful fifteen-year-old, Stephen reflects on the quiet erosion of virtues like integrity, courage, compassion, and mercy. Drawing on a moving passage from The Chosen by Chaim Potok, he asks a pressing question: if character is formed through the examples we witness, where are today's young people learning what truly matters? This episode is an invitation to consider the values we're modeling and the legacy we're leaving behind.

Transcript:

Several friends were having a heated after-dinner discussion concerning the state of certain historic values within our culture. You know, things like integrity, courage, compassionate regard for others...things like that. A variety of opinions were shared, but all of them expressed deep, even searing, concern for the future. Quietly, but attentively sitting throughout this agitated conversation was a young man, 15 years old, who finally just blurted out that he attended a prestigious private school with the children of powerful, connected families, and if they reflected the future of values in our nation, then we were in a hell of a lot of trouble. His passionate outburst brought us to a stunned silence. In his book The Chosen, author Chaim Potok depicts a father’s recollections of his early years with his son, wanting desperately to instill the importance of building a life on the things that matter most: “A heart I need for a son, a soul I need for son, compassion I want from my son, righteousness, mercy, strength to suffer and to carry pain, that I want from my son, not a mind without a soul!” Back at dinner, after the teenager’s outburst, my friends and I set to wondering in a more subdued manner, where that sort of mentoring was taking place. At home? School? Where, exactly, was it being modeled? Parents? Government? Teachers? TikTok? The fundamental infrastructure of our national life is built person by person. Just who is doing the building today--and how?

Can psychedelic experiences deepen Christian faith rather than diminish it? In this thoughtful conversation, Stephen Bauman welcomes New Testament scholar Dr. Jaime Clark-Soles to explore the intersection of Christianity, spirituality, and psychedelic-assisted therapy. Drawing from their shared participation in the landmark Johns Hopkins/NYU psilocybin study, they discuss mystical experience, ego, healing, Scripture, and why the church should engage this growing conversation with curiosity, wisdom, and pastoral care.

Chapters

00:00:00 – Introducing Dr. Jaime Clark-Soles and the Story Behind Psychedelics and Soul Care

00:03:15 – Why Stephen Chose to Keep His Psychedelic Experience Private

00:10:03 – The Healing Potential of Psychedelics for Mind and Spirit

00:13:31 – Defining Psychedelics, Mysticism, and Direct Experiences of God

00:19:40 – Why Two Christian Scholars Participated in the Johns Hopkins Study

00:24:03 – Ego Dissolution, Freedom, and the Experience of Divine Love

00:35:12 – Religious Experiences vs. Living a Faithful Christian Life

00:42:01 – Rediscovering God Through Nature and Creation

00:47:24 – Mysticism in Scripture and Why the Church Should Pay Attention

00:55:11 – The Future of Psychedelic Therapy, Soul Care, and the Church

As Stephen and Melissa celebrate 50 years of marriage, this special Independence Day episode reflects on the surprising ways love, commitment, humility, and lifelong growth shape a life. Their personal milestone becomes a springboard for a larger question: as the nation marks its 250th anniversary, what kind of future are we choosing to build together?

Transcript:

Melissa and I are marking our 50th wedding anniversary this Fourth of July weekend. Though our actual date fell in May, family circumstance led us to share our commemoration with our nation’s 250th anniversary -- that way, on our 75th, we can brag how we had blazing fireworks on our 50th.

We’ve been fortunate through these years. What an ignoramus I was at 23... But what a serendipity that a great leap of faith landed me in a partnership that became an essential component of my emergence as a fully functioning adult, learning repeatedly that the will to extend oneself for one’s own and another’s spiritual growth -- with spiritual understood to include all that contributes to human thriving -- lies at the heart of a life well-lived.

We’re in a deeply grateful place, but I would never say there is nothing new ahead. In fact, I’m counting on it—still eager for the adventure and still aware that I have not yet reached the bottom of my own well of ignorance.

Other people track different paths, of course, and I can’t comment on how they might define their fulfillment, partnered or not. Our experience certainly doesn’t circumscribe the universe of potential positive outcomes. But what I can acknowledge is that the tenacious and necessarily humble commitment to hanging in under the banner of loving intention has wrought a wonderful gift that’s hard to imagine appearing through any other process.

So much for our 50 years... But now, what about our nation’s 250?? What about that? What about that...

In the wake of a heartbreaking tragedy caused by a drunk driver, Stephen reflects on the quiet but profound moral choices woven into everyday life. While many of life's deepest sorrows come from circumstances beyond our control, others begin with seemingly ordinary decisions that carry enormous consequences. This episode explores personal responsibility, moral culpability, and the sacred weight of the choices we make—often long before we recognize their significance.

Transcript:

The news report began this way: “An eighty-two-year-old Nassau County man whose sport utility vehicle collided with a minivan full of young soccer players on a Long Island highway, killing him and two of the children, had a level of alcohol in his system that was more than twice the legal limit...” The story continued by describing the shock and grief of the families and the boys’ delightful personalities... which by the end had brought to mind the numbers of persons who passed through my office over the years in a state of deep grief. Most of the time the loss was due to causes beyond their or anyone else’s control and the emotional task consisted mainly of acceptance of the new reality. But sometimes the grief was at least partly due to causes that were very much within human control; and those agonies were the more difficult to process, where the personal work involved the realm of moral culpability as, for instance, it might be imbedded within a decision as mundane as whether or not to start the car engine. Isn’t it so that many days present all of us with choices as simple, yet morally fraught as that??

In this Father’s Day reflection, Stephen recalls a heartbreaking encounter from his early years in ministry—a young boy who had come to believe that “stupid” was his name because it was all he ever heard from his father. Through this brief but unforgettable moment, Stephen explores the lasting power of a parent’s words, the deep human need for affirmation, and the responsibility fathers have to shape the identity and worth of their children. A poignant meditation on the wounds we can inflict—and the healing we can offer.

Transcript:

Decades ago, in my first church, I had a small exchange with a young boy standing off by himself who seemed swallowed up in deep sadness. I went to him and introduced myself and asked him his name. He told me his name was “Stupid.” I said I couldn’t believe that was his real name. But he quickly responded that I could believe what I wanted, but his name was “Stupid” because that’s what everyone called him. Said with a kind of quiet finality, he walked away. Later, I spotted him on his way out the door with a man I understood was his father. I don’t know what preceded this exact moment, but I witnessed his father turning a very ugly face toward his son and hissing, “My God, you are just so stupid!!” The boy glanced up and caught my eye for a long moment, then shrugged his shoulders and walked out the door. Like I said, that happened a long time ago. In the meantime, I’ve witnessed far worse behaviors, of course. But since Father’s Day was coming along, the memory of the knowing look in the boy’s eyes came to mind, along with the pain and insight we shared for just a moment...