by Liz | Apr 19, 2008 | main
Last night we helped our deacon and his wife celebrate their Golden Wedding Anniversary. We means the parish, the family who came in from around the US and several local priests. From the mass (where the priest almost forgot to do the Renewal of the Vows) on through the reception complete with wedding cakes, it was a wonderful event.
Mind you, when it came to light that this was the Big 50, the couple in question said that they would like a small, simple service and maybe a potluck at the parish hall after. Like that was going to fly! Everyone told them, “Sure, if that’s what you want” and then proceeded to swipe a wedding picture from the house so that it could be scanned and reproduced for fancy programs and favors, and who knows what other skullduggery took place – all in secret.
It’s about Family and relationships and community. It’s about caring for another through surgery and loss of site, good times and bad. It’s the wedding feast at Caana. It’s sharing life in the breaking of the bread. It’s about Jenny’s group that makes sure that folk who have a hospital stay or some other disruption have a meal brought in. It’s about Don’s work with Confirmation classes and RCIA. It’s about a son who would show up with his family from the other side of US to surprise his parents and share in the celebration.
As it turns out, it was probably about the party as well. It seems that when they got married it was a very tiny wedding and reception (maybe 20 people all told). It was about time to have a big wedding reception — and after all of their gifts to our community, it was the least we could do.
by Liz | Apr 18, 2008 | main
Today’s Gospel is one that comes to me often: Do not let your hearts be troubled… In the Father’s house there are many dwelling places… I will come back and take you with me..
And Thomas asks how to get there. “We don’t know where you are going. How can we know the way?”
Jesus said to him, “I am the way and the truth and the life…”
There’s a story I read once about a man, a soldier shot down in the jungle with no idea where he was. A native of the area appears from the jungle and says “Follow me – I’ll get you out of here.”
When the soldier responds “You are going to show me the path to get out? You’ll take me to the road?” the native informs him that there is no path, no road. “Follow me. I am the way out of here.”
It is in the relationship with Jesus, with God that I will find my way to the mansion with many rooms – to the place prepared just for me. It’s not in the rote prayers, or the pious practices or the many books. There is no syllabus for this course.
Don’t leave me behind Lord. Let me continue to know you and walk with you so I can find my way home.
by Liz | Apr 17, 2008 | main
I learned to say this as a child I was baffled. If the Lord is my shepherd and He does all these wonderful things, why do I not want Him? If finally asked about this and of course was informed that I was misunderstanding the words – of course it’s not the Lord you don’t want – it’s that you won’t want anything else. Huh!
And most of the time this is true — if I turn to the Lord, I have what I need and want. But there are days when I become sinner extraordinaire. It seems that my original interpretation might be more accurate. The Lord is my shepherd but I’d really rather be left alone. Then I get into real trouble.
Not sure where I’m going with this, but it helps to reflect on the times when I want to be left alone. It also calls to mind some of the gospel message for this week. Jesus tells us that He came not to condemn us but to be Light for us. And basically it seems we convict ourselves.
Lord, help me to walk in Your Light and help me to be without want instead of not wanting You.
by Liz | Apr 15, 2008 | main
The past couple of days, I’ve been rather in a desert when I think of writing. Oh, I’ve done some technical writing because I have a lot of that to work through, but in the interior landscape, it seems to be a desert.
Which reminds me of a retreat weekend some 8 years ago – it was supposed to be a “Desert Retreat” – but due to a typo it became a “Dessert Retreat.” And as it is with these sorts of things, while the Desert theme was carried through, we had a grand time teasing the person who added the extra “s” and harassed him about not bringing enough desserts.
I remember that retreat quite vividly. We were led through The Cloud of Unknowing. We were presented with Julian of Norwich and “All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” Good concepts to ponder that weekend as it turned out. When I returned home on Sunday morning atthe end of the retreat I found that my house had burned – not quite to the ground, but in a way that might not have been any worse.
All shall be well. Nobody was injured in the fire. Even the cats escaped the house.
All shall be well. I discovered that most of what was lost was “just stuff.” And, the closets were cleaned out without the pain of making a choice.
All shall be well. We survived it.
All shall be well. There are still times now when I am aware that there may still be people to be forgiven — or people who need to understand that they are forgiven. But, it will come to pass, I am sure
All shall be well. Many months later, after we were back in the “new” house, my neighbor across the street brought me a gift: a package of very nice fat-quarters (fabric for quilting). I had lost my entire fabric stash in the fire. We both stood in the street and cried. I’ve not gotten back into quilting in the last 8 years — I think something broke inside me — but the gift touched me so deeply.
All shall be well. All manner of things shall be well.
by Liz | Apr 14, 2008 | main
I could go off on a lot of tangents this morning, but the gospel is pulling me back to shepherd images. When I was a teenager, someone gave me the following (I don’t know the author – does anyone else have a clue?)
Shepherd, shall I tend your sheep?
I with scant shepherd’s skill?
But I see them weep and weep.
And if I do not go who will?
They don’t belong to me
And I’m not sure where the sheepfold is.
But as I look around I see
In a world that is not mine but His
None to go save such as I
So when in the dark I heard them cry
There’s only one thing left do
Look for Your light to lead them to.
I must have been meant to remember those words as that was probably the first thing I every set to music. I sat one afternoon with my guitar and learned the song that played in my head. And now , nearly 4 decades later the words are still clear in my head. Of course I sing it to myself when I try to type it out as the words and melody are now intertwined.
With all the publicity about the Pope’s visit to the US I am bombarded with words and images of Benedict as the [Supreme] Shepherd. We must remember that only Jesus is the Shepherd, and we (including the entire hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church) are the much more like the voice in this Shepherd Song: Looking for the Light to lead them to. May the Pope know the Shepherd’s voice, and may the Light shine brightly for him.
