Jake called it “returning to the springs.” He found it at the source of all spiritual traditions: mystery, awe, and renewal; basic gratitude for the unmerited beauty of Being itself; faith that isn’t dogma, real hope, and enduring love. Jake was never my pastor. When I first knew him, he was retired. I’d spent a year as a student minister in the church where he’d served for a quarter century. “We knew each other before we ever met,” he used to say.
