Honoring Dr. Barbara Holmes: A Life of Contemplation and Justice
Many of us came to know and love Dr. Barbara Holmes through her contributions to CAC’s Daily Meditations, her profound books like Joy Unspeakable and Race and the Cosmos, or her teachings through the Living School and her podcast, The Cosmic We. Whether you encountered her as a student, a reader, or through her voice in meditation, we were all touched by the depth of wisdom and compassion she so generously shared. It is with deep sadness that we share the news of her passing last week.
I first encountered Barbara—or Dr. B as she was often called—through her writings, and like many of you, I was moved by her unique blend of intellect and heart. When we finally met in person, I was struck not only by her brilliance but by the depth of her personal experience—her moral courage and spiritual clarity. She carried within her a sensitivity rooted in both suffering and joy, expressed with art, passion, and a profound sense of purpose. Her presence was more than teaching; it was a call to live with open hearts and minds.
Dr. B often spoke about her experiences growing up in the pre-Civil Rights era and the profound journey that led her through a diverse and impressive range of fields—from law to ministry, from the stage to the classroom. As she shared these stories, I realized that her personal history was not just about what she had done but about how those experiences shaped her understanding of contemplation and action. She knew what it meant to live with her back against the wall, to push forward even when the way wasn’t clear. Her teachings weren’t abstract theories—they were born from lived experience and deep conviction.
When she joined the core faculty at CAC, she often reflected on how grateful she was for the freedom she found here—a space where she could bring her whole self to the table. She would say that CAC allowed her to teach not just from her scholarly background but from the heart of her mystical journey. This, she said, was a gift that nourished her soul in ways that her more traditional academic roles hadn’t.
Dr. B was passionate about expanding our understanding of the Christian contemplative tradition, reminding us that contemplation isn’t the sole domain of those who can retreat to quiet places. She understood, from her own life and from the traditions she carried forward, that contemplative practices must also arise in the midst of struggle, in the heart of communities pressed against the weight of history and oppression. She helped us see that the Christian contemplative tradition, too often framed through a narrow, Eurocentric lens, was far richer and more diverse than we had realized. It’s a tradition that belongs to all of us—and she called us to honor it fully by embracing its breadth and depth.
One of her greatest gifts was her ability to hold together the inseparable relationship between contemplation and action. She often spoke of her concern that we might become “The Center for Contemplation and More Contemplation,” without fully living into the “Action” half of our name. For Dr. B, contemplation was never passive—it was always engaged, always calling us forward into deeper love, justice, and healing. Her work reminded us that to truly be contemplatives, we must also be people of action, people committed to the healing of both the individual and the collective soul.
Dr. B’s life was marked by resilience, even in the face of recent health challenges. This year, with energy and passion, she worked on new projects, including recording sessions for the Living School’s upcoming Essentials of Engaged Contemplation course. She still had dreams, new research, and ideas she wanted to share with the world. But last week, as Hurricane Milton passed through her home in Tampa, Dr. B was hospitalized and, after entering palliative care, she passed away peacefully, surrounded by her beloved husband, George, and her two sons.
As I reflect on Dr. B’s life, I’m reminded of the quiet moments we shared when we weren’t talking about work, but about life, fishing, and mystery. There was always a deep reverence for what was unseen, both in our conversations about prayer and contemplation, and in the quiet joy of fishing—a practice we both loved, and one that seemed to mirror the contemplative life we were both committed to. I will miss her deeply—not just as a colleague but as a friend, a trusted soul companion who brought light and grace into my life.
We often say that no one can fill Richard Rohr’s shoes. The truth is, it will take all of us, collectively, to continue his work and Dr. B’s. Her passing leaves a profound void in our hearts, but I also believe she has left us with the tools and wisdom to continue the work she held so dear. It’s up to us now to carry her legacy forward—not just by preserving her teachings, but by embodying the love and justice she lived for.
In honoring Dr. B, may we continue the struggle she so passionately embraced—the struggle for justice, the healing of the human spirit, and the call to radical creativity. May her “intelligence on fire” continue to burn within us as we move forward in love, action, and contemplation.
With deep gratitude and grace,
Brian McLaren
Dean of Core Faculty
Center for Action and Contemplation