Author Archives
Professor of Religious Studies and Graduate Theology & Pastoral Studies, Ursuline College
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A Theological Conversation by Natalie Weaver and Valentine
My son asked me to discuss with him the theological problem of the dual natures, i.e., the divine and human natures, coexisting in the person of Jesus. He asked me to begin by assuming the premises that 1) Jesus was a… Read More ›
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Fragments of Beauty by Natalie Weaver
Can I empathize with your feeling, your interest in this? Be sound, my heart that feels the beat of yours as my own. I would like to be human one day. Let my prayer be not please, for, I fear… Read More ›
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Welcome to the New Year by Natalie Weaver
Welcome to the New Year. One year ago, on New Year’s eve, I buried my father’s ashes. It was an incredible experience to orchestrate the funeral and burial of the man who begat me. He was nowhere near a Hallmark greeting card… Read More ›
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In Dreams by Natalie Weaver
I am grateful for dreams. I don’t know what they are, of course, in any absolute sort of way. Defining dreaming is as elusive as dreams themselves. Moreover, I find that understanding dreaming is complicated by the vastly variegated quality one finds in… Read More ›
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The Truth About Humans by Natalie Weaver
I have greatly enjoyed an odd little book I read over the summer. It is Lucy Cooke’s The Truth About Animals (Basic Books, 2018). Cooke takes us through a journey of animal behavior, chronicling the curious narratives that naturalists, philosophers, theologians, and… Read More ›
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In Remembrance of Conrad Gromada by Natalie Weaver
I opened my email earlier today, July 2, and received news that my beloved, retired colleague, Conrad Gromada, passed away this morning. My grief was and is giant. I am here now flooded with memories of the nearly twenty years I had… Read More ›
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Musings on the Triune God by Natalie Weaver
This past term I had the opportunity to teach courses on the Christian doctrines of Christology and Trinity. My first inclination was to approach these doctrines from the perspective of their historical development. For, I find the historical study of… Read More ›
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Her Love is the Love of God by Natalie Weaver
I used to hate Mother’s Day. I have written about this before, so I won’t belabor the point. Suffice it to say, I used to believe that Mother’s Day was the one of the biggest lies of all. It was… Read More ›
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“Don’t Let the Store Shop You” by Natalie Weaver
My mother, in the great tradition of all mothers, says things sometimes that: 1) crack me up; 2) speak some depth of human truth; and 3) plainly and pithily state facts that could never be otherwise articulated, even if the task… Read More ›
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Integrity of the Self by Natalie Weaver
I sat in a frigid moot court room at a conference on the morning of March 8, trying to concentrate. Within an hour of the program’s opening keynote, my underarms had become damp with that weird cold sweat that happens when… Read More ›
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I Shall Make Prayer of It by Natalie Weaver
This is a poem I published almost ten years ago. It is as if I wrote it yesterday. The image is more or less of the same sentiment as the poem. I publish these again here in memory of my father. ~~~~… Read More ›
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Eulogy for My Father by Natalie Weaver
Fourteen years ago, I was pregnant with William Valentine. I had no idea what to expect. I knew only that I was in a body, and it was pregnant. Things happened to me, to my body, that seemed extrinsic to… Read More ›
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A Precious Gift by Natalie Weaver
This has been another hard month. I don’t feel it to be hard. I just know objectively that it is. The typical challenge of balancing my work with the children’s needs and the management of a household has been intensified by the onset… Read More ›
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Falling Rocks by Natalie Weaver
My dad took me to see Bill Cosby in Columbus, Ohio when I was a kid. We used to listen to a record of him talking, which I could only pretend to find funny even then, but dad liked it and… Read More ›
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Open Letter to the Pope and all the King’s Men by Natalie Weaver
Dear Sirs, It breaks me down. My anger, my revulsion, my powerlessness. I have been searching for the way since I was a child old enough to remember my mind. For a time, I thought Jesus was a white guy knocking on my… Read More ›
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A Curious Blessing by Natalie Weaver
A few years back, I turned forty years old. On the cusp of this landmark birthday, I wrote about the stigma of so-called midlife crises. I resisted the idea that changes associated with midlife should be mocked, when indeed many of… Read More ›
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Following My Dreams by Natalie Weaver
Dreaming has always been a huge part of my life. When I was a little girl, I would run to my mom in the morning, before I was even completely awake, and tell her what I had been dreaming, It… Read More ›
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LeBron James and Loads of Baskets by Natalie Weaver
On June 8, Cleveland watched the Cavaliers lose the NBA championship. Outside of Cleveland, according to the commentators I heard, no one really expected our guys to pull it off. But, here in Cleveland, we felt otherwise. Up until the final four… Read More ›
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Implausible, Impossible Hope by Natalie Weaver
With the single exception of a weak moment in my oldest son’s kindergarten year, during which time the grade school manipulated parents into fundraising schemes by dangling socially advantageous perks (such as a reward trip to a water park) for… Read More ›
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An Open Letter to Mom by Natalie Weaver
Dear Mom, I want to take this opportunity to tell you I have learned so much from you over these years that I have been privileged to call you “mom.” I watch you, as you get older, as I also… Read More ›
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Telling Stories by Natalie Weaver
Human beings tell stories. This may sound like a simple truth. To folklorists, literature professors, and people who work in media and in government, I would sound like a rather simple-minded child to be arriving so late in life at… Read More ›
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Another Brick in the (Ivory) Wall by Natalie Weaver
I have recently read a couple of articles in the Chronicle of Higher Education about the challenge of working in academia. One article lamented the paucity of tenure line positions and the great disappointment some ex-academics feel when they finally give… Read More ›
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Time Traveling Letter to Kids of the 70s (especially you, Natalie) by Natalie Weaver
Hmmm…. Time Travel? Maybe, I suppose. I recall a strange video clip in which Steven Hawking throws a Time Travelers’ Party. He sends an invitation for a fancy soiree, holds the event, and sets the scene where future folk will… Read More ›
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Saving Joan of Arc by Natalie Weaver
I’m finished with my first semester as a studio arts major at Kent State University. I am not sure whether I’ll be registering for a second one. There were pros and cons about the experience, and I am not sure if one… Read More ›
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Depicting Mary by Natalie Weaver
In October I had the opportunity to travel to the Louvre Museum on a free day I had from a conference I was attending in Leuven, Belgium. I went predisposed to consider images of the Madonna as I had been… Read More ›
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At the Altar of the Muses by Natalie Weaver
I was asked by my sculpture teacher to make a monument. “A monument to what,” I asked? “Anything,” he answered. The only parameter seemed to be that the work was produced in wood. Having seen some interesting stone and marbleizing… Read More ›
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Neither My Duty nor My Honor by Natalie Weaver
Just the other day, I realized that discussion of my housekeeping has been a fairly regular conversation throughout my life. One of my earliest memories is being about four years old in my yellow bedroom on Ruth Avenue in North Canton,… Read More ›
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Gaining Perspective by Natalie Weaver
I don’t know if I could be a deep-sea welder. I don’t know what the risks of lethal electrocution, broken limbs, or the bends would be. I suspect it can be a dangerous occupation, like operating heavy equipment on good… Read More ›
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Look Up by Natalie Weaver
He said, “Look up.” So, I looked up, and I saw the most beautiful stars. They were like Hubble Space Telescope Images, but I could see them with my own unaided eyes. All the colors were there, close enough to touch, yet glittering… Read More ›
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Gratitudo et Fortitudo by Natalie Weaver
One of the bigger problems with being the only Classics major at a Jesuit university is that all my friends were fairly old men before I had even reached drinking age. Now, they are pretty much gone back to the… Read More ›
