by Liz | Dec 16, 2009 | main
In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus tells us “…unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”
I was thinking of this today as I was listening to music from the Mexican Baroque period. That led me to my experience of the celebrations of our Latino community in my parish. For the Feast of Guadalupe people dress in costumes. There is a lot of joy and playfulness mixed in with the deep devotion.
Or, I think of the young father who came forward at mass with his tiny daughter, bearing a box with the ashes of his recently deceased (29 year old) wife. He asked that they be placed on the altar so that the community could pray for her, for them during mass. Why he chose the english mass when he spoke only spanish, I’ll never know. It was unplanned – a surprise to everyone, even the priest who handled it beautifully.
It seems that we Americans, and western Europeans have grown old. We have cast away childlike trust. The widower trusted that his request, his need would be honored. This just wouldn’t have happened had he been a part of the much more reserved english speaking community. We want plans. We want protocol. We are not about to bare our souls to the community and ask for healing and help.
We are hesitant to dress up and play the parts in plays. Oh, that’s okay for a 5 year old. But, where has the playfulness and innocence and trust gone?
Lord, I hope that I can indeed become as a little child more often and therefore be open to Your love, Your care, Your joy. And, I ask you to help me to trust as a child trusts.
by Liz | Dec 14, 2009 | main
The other day at mass, I was zapped! I heard the words “This cup, this bread SHARED is the Body of Christ…” The emphasis is what I heard. And, I heard it a couple of other times. Zing!
I look at the Bread and Wine, the Body and Blood of Christ at mass. I am a part of the Body and Blood of Christ not only at mass but as I move through my days and nights. But, in those instances I see a glimmer through the dark. This Body, this Blood, this bread, this wine becomes a living creature when it is shared. The action of sharing gives it an even more animated life.
In that past week or two, Krista Tippet interviewed a woman who is a chaplain working with rescue workers. It is her task to be with not only the workers, but with those who are waiting and praying for someone to be found. And she is with those who get the bad news. There was a story told as a part of this interview. During a time of grief the doorbell rings. There stands a nicely dressed gentleman with religious tracts – “Have you heard the Gospel?” This earned a door slammed in his face. The next time the doorbell rang, it was a neighbor with a plate of brownies. “I thought you might be able to use these just now.” The storyteller is overwhelmed by the presence of Christ in the action of giving in time of need. The sharing at a very human level.
In my own life this weekend I watched in awe as some of my dear friends not only joined us to celebrate my son’s marriage, but openly shared their time and energy with my mother. They took part in the festivities — but they spent time visiting with Mama, who isn’t as mobile as she would like to be. They traveled from out of town, and helped in so many ways — handling a video camera, getting chairs for people, being family alongside those of us who are related by blood and marriage. They don’t even know, it seems, that to me, they were that active, shared Body of Christ.
And so, I seek to share this body, I seek to be a part of the sharing. I pray that I can see what needs doing and act on it to bring this Love into a concrete reality.
by Liz | Nov 9, 2009 | main
Last week I had the opportunity to glimpse my 3rd grand child. I was invited along to the doctor visit to see the ultrasound. 10 weeks. About the size of a prune. Little heart beat visible. Itsy waved little arms around. You could pick out arms and the beginnings of fingers. Little legs.
Wonder. That’s the only way to describe my reaction. Wonder! This event went well beyond anything I could have anticipated. The only other time I remember something similar was standing on the south rim of the Grand Canyon and understanding the definition of “breathtaking.”
How seldom we experience real wonder. This is not an emotion that can be called up at will. To me, it’s a gift. In those moments of watching that black and white image on the screen and absorbing the reality that I was seeing a new life — that he was moving around with a beating heart and tiny fingers — I felt that God was standing with me, delighted in all She saw. In the days since, I have been brought back to that place again and again. A line from a song we use at church rolls through me – “For the wonder of who I am, I praise You.” It’s like, well, I begin to comprehend at a deeper level those words that I mouth – “I am loved. We are wonderful creations.” Even – “Jesus died for me.”
The only explanation I have is that this in this moment of wonder, the world was stripped away and I became aware of being in the presence of God. And that changes everything. That is the beginning of prayer.That is the place where my heart can be open and can be changed.
I read back over this and I fear I have babbled. And in some ways, I’m sure I have as there are no words to really wrap around the experience. And so, I’ll just leave the words as a pointer while I return to just be in that place again for a bit.
Amen.
by Liz | Oct 17, 2009 | main
I’ve been sitting with Susan’s post over on Creo en Dios — and considering how her words adapt to my reality. We come to this place from different roads. She was a cradle Catholic who left God and the Catholic Church, and returned. I started life in a Calvinist protestant environment (Presbyterian/Southern Baptist), made a choice in my teens to actually be a Christian, and by some twist of faith found my home the the Catholic Church.
I’m not so good at words as Susan but I get some feeling that we are trying to somehow explain similar feelings about this whole Catholic issue. The Church is Home. It is at some level Family. I disagree with many statements that come from Rome and USCCB. I cringe at many behaviors exhibited by those entrusted with the care and feeding of the members (I mean “care and feeding” in both physical and spiritual terms); I get ready to pack my bags and make my exit.
And then I stop.
“Where are you going?”
“Away!”
“Away to what?”
“Just away! Where I don’t have to put up with this hypocritical stupidity and corruption!”
“And where is that?”
At this point, I pause again. I cannot go. I came to this church primarily because of a certainty that the Mass, the Eurcharist, holds a lot more in it than my upbringing allows it to hold. That idea was both attractive and frightening.And it called me to “come” – not “go.” I have experienced the touch of God in Reconciliation.
And so, I stay. This is my home and family, warts and all. Not perfect. Sometimes grand, sometimes downright pathetic. There are many times I have to look beyond the visible manifestations of this Church and find the heart of it. I, like Susan, cannot for sure always say that I “need” to be Catholic, and for many of the same reasons. But, I am.
by Liz | Sep 26, 2009 | main
I’ve listened to a couple of friends lately as they reflect on changes and calls. They are truly witnesses to me.
I see faith and commitment in one of them as he reflects on possible changes in his life. He struggles with his feelings. He tries to make lemonade. He always amazes me with his ability to be where he is — truly be there and be quite happy doing whatever it is. He makes really great lemonade.
I see faith and wonder in another friend as she copes with answered prayers… “Be careful what you pray for, because you just might get it” she told me the other day. I see her joy mixed with awe and at times almost confusion as she deals with a spouse who has recently been touched deeply by God.
I see faith at work in a coworker as he tries, and succeeds in not stomping out of a session with another coworker. It takes great patience to stay positive in the presence of this difficult personality. He works very hard to see the positive in the situation. Me? I might get through it, but I also might explode and get myself fired.
My friends are not trying to “witness” to me. At least I don’t think that’s the case. They are simply trying to answer a call. They are walking this road with me, and by do that, and sharing the joys and sorrows found on the way, they offer a living witness of faith.
Thanks guys. I love you all.
