by Liz | Apr 28, 2013 | main
A week or so ago at a funeral I listened as a son stood and offered his memories and reflections on his father and his father’s life. Much of it was the very personal, but very normal, memories of events which brought smiles from the family and friends that knew Bob well. Some was history and background that added to my understanding of the man whose life we were celebrating. And then, the son hit that place where the voice cracks, and the words are difficult to push out. In one of those profound, soul touching moments where you look down into a well and in shock see your own face greeting you from the mirrored surface of the water he said “I finally saw that those things I so admired and loved in my father, he saw in me.”
What a gift!
My soul was touched well beyond this particular father and son. Perhaps I can begin now to see that some of those things I so “admire and respect” in Jesus, in Christ, in God, in the Spirit are also seen by God in me. May we all truly be One in the Spirit. May those good and loving attributes be seen in each of us. And may we have the gift of recognizing it.
by Liz | Apr 26, 2013 | main
Today’s Gospel, John 14:1-6 comes to my mind often, and generally brings a quiet smile.
Jesus said to his disciples: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me.
In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you?
And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be.
Where (I) am going you know the way.”
Thomas said to him, “Master, we do not 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. No one comes to the Father except through me.”
I find peace in the idea that there are many rooms (dwelling places) so that all are welcome in this great house we so often call heaven. I find comfort that someone is getting it ready and will take me to just my spot at just the right time. I can relax a bit with the idea that there truly is no written treasure map, but instead the ongoing, growing relationship with Jesus/Christ/God to find the way. If there is no written map, then I don’t have to try to find it – I only need to stay with the tour guide as best I can and let him/her show me the way.
Note: writing this has opened a floodgate of thoughts, feelings, beliefs that I am not yet ready to share. So, for now, I’ll work through them in private, seeking to understand better the Way.
by | Mar 26, 2013 | main
Over the past 15-18 months, I have struggled in with my feelings and relationship with another person. He is far away now, but in a place where I will surely encounter him again in the next few weeks. He is someone that I care for, care about and really like. If you asked him about that in the past year or so, he would probably inform you in no uncertain terms that I bore false witness against him and that I was the cause of much unwanted change in his life. I’m pretty sure he has himself convinced that I was out to get him, and successful at doing so. I’ve lived with and walked through the anger he left behind and as we enter Holy Week, I can say “Thank you.”
I’ve been through my own defensiveness, my own battle where I have wanted to scream [at him] — “Look, Jerk, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, but I saw someone who needed some help.” or “I’m really angry that you think I was out to hurt you.” I’ve gritted my teeth, and hurt, as I became an invisible person in his presence. I’ve sat with the anger when I heard from others that he had told them that I was the reason he was moved away. I have taken comfort in another friend suggesting that I pray the Psalms, because they contain all of the emotions I have passed through.
Sunday, I listened to the Passion as recorded in Luke’s Gospel. It sank in that through the troubles of the past year I have also looked at myself. I have opened a small opening to let the Light of God’s love shine in and illuminate my actions, my thoughts, my feelings. I have asked forgiveness for the contempt I have felt. I have attempted to step outside the situation and see the whole thing. I have examined my motivations for what I actually did do and tried to be honest about the parts that were on the track of being loving and caring as well as the parts that were driven by hurt and anger. I have come to appreciate at a deeper level that “Doing the right thing isn’t always the easiest thing” (Thanks to my favorite TV Shrink, Dr. Danny of “Necessary Roughness”). I have finally accepted that sometimes you must say what you believe, even though it will likely put you into very uncomfortable places. I am at peace with knowing that I wasn’t perfect, but I did try to do what I thought the Spirit was calling me to do.
In so many ways, this whole mess has helped me to accept that I am loved: even when I push back at God’s love and try to distance myself simply because God can see me so clearly — which can be very uncomfortable.
And so, I say “Thank you” to my friend (and I truly still consider him a friend, no matter what he thinks) for helping me to grow closer to God. I pray that he too will find it in his heart to let the walls come down and let go of his own hurt and anger — because that makes this life so much more joyful to live.
by | Mar 11, 2013 | main
That’s funny title… and it is only a starting point for my thoughts.
This morning I was reading my friend Susan’s reflection, Home in the Heart of Jesus, on her blog, Creo en Dios. She reflected on how sad it made her to know that the place that represents her “spiritual home” will close it’s doors in June. But she ended with the vision given her by her former spiritual director that her home is not a place, but in the Heart of Jesus. (forgive me Susan, if I am slaughtering your reflection — people should just go read it for themselves!).
As I read the reflection, it gave me some insight… an epiphany of sorts. I have a real, chronic problem with practices like Adoration and Benedition. Just bugs me — at times it seems like folks got God all trapped in that bit of bread — all safe and sound, and controlled. On reading Susan’s reflection on sorrow at “losing your home” — the realization that your home (our home) is in the Heart of Jesus, gives me a way to look at Adoration and see that it can be a way of sitting with the understanding and appreciation of just that reality: home is in the heart of Jesus. To be there allows me to more consciously realize and appreciate that. There are many times when we really need the concrete to be able to sense the reality beyond.
I know I’ve tried to write this out many times before. Each time I grasp a bit of the truth. Each time the light fades and I find myself back in a cloud of unknowing, a fog of non-comprehension. We, as humans so need something concrete to hang on to. That special place, the cross or crucifix on a chain around the neck, the hug that comes when we most need it, the water of baptism and the oil of confirmation. The bread and wine on the altar at mass. Sacraments: those physical realities that make things real for us now. And we do that for one another: we become “God [Jesus] with skin on” for each other. So, yes, my home is in the Heart of Jesus, but, I so need some things to touch and know in order to understand that reality.
And so, next time I am invited to Adoration, I will try to dig up these reflections. I will try to allow the Blessed Sacrament to be Sacrament and lead me to the reality. I will try to be open and listen to all the hope and prayers and Love that come from the Reality behind the physical. I will try to be open to accepting and growing in that love.
At least, I hope I will.
by | Feb 25, 2013 | main
If a teacher would bring up these two terms, I fear the question would be: Contrast and compare transfiguration and transformation. They are different, yes, but, it seems also very intertwined. And, they’ve been on my radar for a couple of days.
Saturday night, USA ran Schindler’s List comercial free, wrapped only in an into and epilogue by Steven Spielberg who spoke about tolerance and about the Shoah Foundation. I had never seen the movie before, and found parts of it twisting my stomach into knots with horror. I can in some ways understand those Holocaust deniers who cannot accept that this happened. This bit of history reflects some of the worst of humanity.
So, how does this play into transfiguration and transformation? Oskar Schindler, of course. Schindler doing the right things for the wrong reasons. Schindler’s transformation into a man who would go to the ends of his world to save his people. Schindler who was transformed in a way by how the Jews he had under his protection had been transfigured for him into human beings, worthy of protection and care. By the end of the movie, the end of WWII in Europe, this man had been changed, almost in spite of himself.
Another theme I found in the movie was just a hint of how the cruelty and inhumanity of the entire cancerous Nazi philosophy and practices twisted those involved. I’m in no way defending Goeth, but there was a glimpse of a deeply disturbed man, fighting against his own humanity. I got a glimpse of how his choices and his world ate away at him, leaving behind a damaged, dangerous individual who couldn’t face himself and struck out at anything that came close to his “good” side.
Enter Sunday’s Gospel: the account of the Transfiguration of Jesus. I listened to this reading in the aftermath of the movie. I thought to myself that the Transfiguration sounded more like the transformation of the disciples so that they could truly see Jesus, more than any change in Jesus. I could be wrong, but I don’t think so. Who knows what can happen if we allow ourselves to see differently? To be transformed so as to see a transfigured world around us.
Think about it.
by | Feb 21, 2013 | main
“Seek and ye shall find” pretty much sums up today’s gospel reading.
The questions for me boil down to:
What am I seeking?
How will I accept what I might find?
I think of my husband’s approach to so many things: Don’t ask questions when you don’t really want to know the answers. There is some wisdom in that, I suppose. That attitude can certainly keep one from following some very painful paths, but it strikes me as a bit of “head in the sand.” The challenge is to seek, even when I might not particularly like the answers. My reaction to those answers might change over time though as I grow to understand and/or accept them. I’ve lived long enough to begin to realize that sometimes (not always, but many times) what seemed like a crushing blow turns out to be the very best thing that could happen. That horrible thing turns out to be so much better than the solution I would have suggested. At other times, the answer is immediately grand. And then there are times where the finding just creates the need for more seeking.
Seek and you shall find. Knock and that door will be opened. Be at peace and be brave and step through that door.
