by Liz | Dec 28, 2008 | main
No day could possibly live up the expectations that so many of us put onto Christmas Day. We simply ask too much of a single day. Therefore, I have been blessed this year to celebrate at least 3 days of Christmas.
Day One: Christmas Day — mass, John and Daniel frying a turkey out back, gifts, trucking the turkey and meat dressing to my sister’s house for Christmas dinner (this is the first year my Mom has been living down here with us, and hence the first year my brother came south for Christmas instead of going north.) A very delightful Christmas.
Day Two: The next day, Marie (daughter) and Kevin (SIL) arrive… Dan’s girlfriend Shawn had made it in the evening before. Another round of gifts, sharing, and another complete Christmas dinner – this time at our house (another fried turkey). Marie and Kevin stayed until about 5 and headed back. A very delightful Christmas (again);
Day Three: My [step]brother had arrived late in the afternoon of day 2 with wife and daughter. I went and sat with them over dinner after Marie and Kevin left. But Christmas 3 was family brunch at my sister’s house on Saturday, before Stew and Co. had to head home. More food. More fellowship. More cheer. A very delightful Christmas (again).
And so, I am blessed – blessed to remember the birth of the Christchild at mass; blessed to see Christ brought to life so vividly 3 days in a row. Blessed to have the knowledge that this is a lifestyle, not just a day. Blessed with all those around me to help me see and respond to Christ in each and every one of my brothers and sisters. And blessed to be heading off to mass for the Feast of the Holy Family.
by Liz | Dec 20, 2008 | main
This morning my husband came out with an interesting take on the Angel Gabriel. Yesterday, the Gospel reading told the story of Zechariah being struck silent when he did questioned the idea that his wife Elizabeth would finally conceive and bear a child. Today, the Gospel relates the story of Gabriel bringing the message to Mary – who also, it seems aked “How could this be?” JP has concluded that Gabriel is sexist in a very subtle way: he expected less of Mary – (read “Oh, sweetheart, I know this is confusing — let me explain it to you [because I know you aren’t capable of understanding this].”
My husband is a teacher – a high school science teacher. He sees this subtle sort of discrimination in Education: the discrimination of diminished expectation: You’re not so capable, so I’ll make it easier for you. It’s not only how girls are sometimes descriminated against in school, it’s also how blacks were very subtly (or not so subtly) discriminated against — it’s a gently cloaked way of saying “You’re not good enough. I don’t expect that much of you.”
I’m not so sure I come away with that conclusion about these 2 stories. But, I also know that Scripture has a way of telling many stories in a single story. It illustrates to me just how a single story is there to reach us wherever we are. He is a successful, demanding science teacher who’s students often complain at the time and come back later to say “Thank you! I was so well prepared for the next step.”
In my reading of the 2 stories, I can see his point. But what might be there, that my spouse doesn’t pick up on is this: both responded with questions, but what was the attitude with which the question was asked? Was Zechariah curious? or did he close his heart and just refuse to even consider the possibility? Did he require the forceful hand to keep him humble and out of the way until the work was done? Was he arrogant? Would he have even listened to a further explanation? Was Mary more open and just plain curious? She was obviously troubled by the whole plan. From the outcome, it can be concluded that while she might have been a bit skeptical, she remained open to listening, open to possibility.
I suspect I’m not describing all of this with any great facility.
The third idea that comes from this is that JP giving me his insight is not only a gift of his insight, but a glimpse of what lies beneath in him. How he sees the stories lets me see where he is (something that is very difficult for him to do directly – maybe impossible). His response speaks even more about where he is than it does about the stories themselves.
And maybe that is the gift of understanding that I was meant to have.
by Liz | Dec 17, 2008 | main
Did you ever wonder?…
When you give a toddler a baby doll
Why it is that the first thing to be done
It to remove the clothes – all the clothes
Naked baby – just baby
No clothes in the way
Just baby
I wonder why?
Is it because they still remember
something we are born knowing
(and too soon forget)?
God looked at all of Creation –
and saw that it was GOOD.
by Liz | Dec 12, 2008 | poetry
I was browsing through some old stuff on my other site, and found some of my poetry.
Rainy Day Sunset
The fiery orange beach ball
slips slowly lower on the grey horizon
leading the orange-pink laced remnant of pale grey
into oblivion
by Liz | Dec 12, 2008 | main
Today is the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe – Patroness of the Americas… And our little bilingual Parish will celebrate in style. The church is decorated with with rosies and the very anglo, fair Mary that usually positions herself near the front of the church has been replaced by Our Lady of Guadalupe. The mass will be be bilingual. There will be a procession and a gathering afterward.
As anyone who reads this (and there are few of you), you know that I’m just not so big into Mary – or at least not traditional RC Marian devotions. But, Guadalupe was probably my first close encounter with the Catholic Church. I was in high school and my Girl Scout troop took a trip to Mexico. I knew some kids who had gone to the Catholic grade school, true. That’s not quite the same as seeing the pilgrims walk on their knees from across the square to the church of Our Lady of Guadalupe. There were many questions from this group of 25 or so girls from the deep south. We heard the story of Juan Diego (Susan wrote about this on the 9th – Juan Diego and Our Lady of Guadalupe); We saw the shroud. And I remember the guide telling us that if the church shared it’s wealth instead of hoarding it, all of Mexico would be devout Catholics (this was 1968).
What a memory. What a trip. What a stop along this journey I’m on. I remember the pilgrims on their knees and being pretty much horrified. I remember the beautiful cloth. I have looked back at the story and come to a place where I can marvel at the power and love of our God: Mary at Guadalupe bridged the gap between the Spanish, male centered church and the female centered religion of the local peoples. This Mary opens the way the Jesus, just as she has done from the beginning.
That is what I take with me from this holy day.
