by Liz | Feb 8, 2012 | main
Anyone who knows me is not surprised that I find the current English mass translation to be rather poor. In general the translation seems poor, cumbersome and does not invoke a sense of beauty or better understanding of what we celebrate. I find it distancing.
There is an exception: one of the responses I learned, and repeated, from the beginnings of my journey within the Roman Church went this way:
Lord, I am not worthy to receive You, but only say the Word and I shall be healed.
The current translation is now:
Lord, I am not worthy for You to enter under my roof, but only say the Word and my soul shall be healed.
(OK, I’m not positive I have the words exactly correct, but I think I do.)
It’s the “enter under my roof” and “my soul will/shall be healed” that have had the impact. When I heard and said the former version, I was focussed strictly on the Host — that little wafer that I received. Not that this is a bad thing, but the “enter under my roof” and the addition of the word “soul” seem to broaden my understanding. I now reflect on allowing God to enter into my “house” – into my “home” — into my life in general. My house is the world, the heart and the mind where I live. When I say the words “under my roof” it calls up a vision of welcoming God into that space where I live. And, the grounding for where I live, day to day, in physical terms or in emotional or spiritual terms is my soul.
Now, I’m not sure what the intent of the change was. For me, this opens doors. It gives me something more concrete to work with. It points to the places where I live and to the reasons and forces that empower me to move day by day. What a beautiful surprise!
by Liz | Dec 20, 2011 | main
Today’s gospel is one of those where the angel Gabriel comes to Mary:
The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary.
And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.”
But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.
I have to admit that I’ve had this reaction — someone greets me with a smile and a message that is sooooo positive. And my first reaction is one of suspicion. What does she want from me? Anyone/anything that happy to see me must want to eat me for dinner. The list goes on from there, but you get the idea.
And so, I look to Mary for the followup. She hears the rest of the story and ponders it a bit. And then she simply asks – “How can this be?” That is where I fall short, it seems. I hold my questions and suspicions close and don’t reveal my hand most of the time. I can only ask for Mary’s simple courage as she wonders aloud “How?” She doesn’t try to sidestep the issue, she doesn’t play at false humility — she just goes with it.
It seems I must accept that the questioning is essential, but so is the acceptance.
by Liz | Aug 7, 2011 | main
Today’s Gospel relates the story of Jesus walking on the water… more to what it means to me, it relates the story of Peter learning that he is a lot more safe and better off if he keeps his eyes on Jesus and doesn’t start second guessing himself.
The priest started down the road of Peter being designated as the Rock, and that his example is to keep his focus on Yahweh — on I AM. And, it strikes me that we, as Catholics, get it wrong many times. What I see in the gospel lesson is to keep my focus on Jesus/I AM/God. Peter is a great example of that. What I don’t see is that I should keep my focus on Peter (or JPII or Benedict).
Just my take on it.
by Liz | Feb 28, 2011 | main
Yesterday we welcomed baby Lillian into the Christian community through baptism. The visiting priest made an observation in the homily that will stick with me. Some of us wonder at times at the wisdom of infant baptism. I was in maybe7th grade when I was baptized, and I remember it. That is a gift I think.
But — that’s not the observation made by the relatively young looking Paulist Father who was there to do the baptism. He observed that Lillian, at 2 months or so was already living a part of her vocation. She creates a change in those around her. Many of us had to chuckle as referenced the many silly sounds we make to get her attention. She causes many people to be a bit more gentle, a bit more caring, a bit more interesting in holding and hugging. She invites us to change.
Wouldn’t it be grand if we still understand that as a part of our vocation? Salt and light. And a baby can do just that.
by Liz | Jan 11, 2011 | main
In my daily movements around this side of town, I frequently pass a sign at a local church that gives me pause. Actually, to be honest, I pass the sign and I am disturbed.
It is a banner sporting a view of the back of a fellow’s [bald/shaved] head which he seems to be clutching in frustration. The sign reads “Hard questions answered here.”
I pass it and ponder. It’s all wrong to me. In frustration, I have been known to nearly shout “If God would just give me the syllabus for this course called Life, then maybe I could pass the course. Just give me a chance to study up on the answers!” So, I rather understand the desire of the man depicted on the sign. Really. I do.
Faith just doesn’t seem to work that way. Oh, there are times when I get answers. Sometimes I even like the answers, but often I’m not fond of them. But, mostly, I find that answers are not spelled out. Answers are definitely not black and white and are definitely not things that can be applied blindly to all situations. I seek answers and the answer I get most frequently is “I am the way” — which I have finally learned means — “Walk with me, and we’ll deal with everything as it comes up.” Often, the answer only leads to more questions.
It seems that so many people just want the right answer to parrot. It seems that we often want the answers fed to us instead of taking the responsibility for our own learning. I know that there are many times that it would be so much easier to just have someone tell me what is right or what to do rather than listen in the context of my own relationship with Love.
I would think far more positively if that sign read “Tough questions? We can walk/sit with you as you listen for answers.”
That sign just bugs me.
