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with with rosies and the very anglo, fair Mary that usually positions herself near the front of the church has been replaced by Our Lady of Guadalupe.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.
by Liz | Dec 11, 2008 | main
[Note:It’s easy to remember my niece’s birthday as she shares it with the Feast of the Immaculate Conception…]
This a season of Mary as well as of the coming of Jesus. It’s rather like we need to see what came before to get to the gift of the baby Jesus. And so, I’ve been considering the concept of “Immaculate Conception.” I learned early on in my journey into Catholic Christianity that this Immaculate Conception refers to Mary’s beginnings, not to her conceiving Jesus.
Often, it helps to go back to the original language to find a meaning to theological ideas. But, I don’t have a history of terms here, so I fall to considering the English meaning of Conception. Creatures are conceived, but also are ideas conceived. Take the term “concept” – basic concepts underlie projects and belief structures. Mary’s Immaculate Conception – Mary, conceived without sin — that had to be God’s concept. We wouldn’t have thought of it. And so, Mary, who the Catholic Church declares to have been conceived without sin, had to be the result of a concept that was born from God.
As Advent progresses, we move toward the birth of Jesus. What a concept! God becoming one of us in every way except sin. Had to be God’s idea. We would never presume to think this is really something God desired. I suspect that even those sorely broken humans who seem to think they are God carry deep within them a strong doubt that God would really want to be them. They might think they can have God’s power, but, I suspect that they don’t really think God would BE them.
And so, I wrestle with terms like Immaculate Conception and Jesus born of the Virgin Mary. And I look at the word Virgin, free of sexual attachments. I consider the Virgin was a translation and perhaps it refers to a young woman, free, in an of herself, to make the decision to embrace God’s will. The angel Gabriel told her that the Holy Spirit would come upon her. Ah! The source of the concept of Jesus – God incarnate originates from God as the Holy Spirit. And Mary said “Yes.”
The power of Mary’s “yes” and the awesome gift of her allowing God to become human through her knocks me over sometimes. And it reinforces my awe at the site of a new baby, and the power of someone, anyone, everyone saying “yes.”
by Liz | Dec 5, 2008 | main
On Thanksgiving Day I opened my email to find a note from my husband’s youngest cousin. It was a blessing that I was unaware of what was going on until it was mostly over. She and her fiance were staying on the 15th floor of the Taj Mahal Hotel in Mumbai when the terrorist attacks occurred. The email was to let family and friends know that they had been evacuated and were safe. So, I could relax a bit, even before I had a chance to worry.
The statement that sticks with me is “As my mom said, We have a lot to be thankful for.” Amen.
This news came on the heels of another friend losing her youngest cousin (a NY firefighter) in a house fire, and another friend’s great-nephew coming oh-so-close to going down in a plane crash. And so, it has taken a week or more to absorb all of this.
It puts me back to that spot that I visit so often: Bad news knocking at the door. Wars and rumors of war, fire, accidents, havoc all around. And the same time, the sheer joy of spending a few days with my granddaughters and family. I was immersed in giggles, glorious weather, good food and fellowship even I the bad news kept knocking at the door.
It makes me thankful – not just for the good things, but for the knowledge that God loves me through it all. It makes me thankful to be able to accept with grace the words of Charles Dickens: “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.” It even brings to mind words of one of my favorite hymns (How Can I Keep from Singing):
My life goes on in endless song
Above earth’s lamentation
I hear clear, yet far of sound
That hails a new creation
Through the tumult and the strife
I hear the Music ringing
If Love is Lord of Heaven and Earth
How can I keep from Singing?
by Liz | Dec 3, 2008 | main
I know I’m late to the party — I only discovered Shrek this fall, and only then because of my granddaughter. And now, the story has caught my imagination. I watch as Fiona wrestles with the idea that the ogre might be her true form instead of the princess… that Shrek might be her true love. I identify with it.
I want to be beautiful (and slim) and healthy (and full of energy). I want to be honest, trustworthy and always full of praise for God. I want to believe that I can live up to an unrealistic, and probably not healthy ideal. Enter the Inner Ogre. The one that isn’t so perfect in the eyes of the world (or even me). The one who has a thorn in her side. The one who struggles with doing the right thing for the right reason. The one who actually might have some empathy for St. Paul when he cries out that he does what he doesn’t want to do – that he has a thorn in the flesh.
And then, it seems, that Inner Ogre is someone that is Real. Someone that feels pain and joy and sorrow and delight. Someone who is free to be — whatever she is. Not with a perfect body or perfect habits. Someone who can see the warts and green skin and love it all.
Yeah- I can love her. I can accept being her (most of the time).
by Liz | Nov 22, 2008 | main
November 22 – St. Cecilia’s feast day. I’m a church musician and I have visited the catacombs outside of Rome where Cecilia died. I pray not to die a martyr’s death, but I also know that music and singing stand a good chance of being a comfort to me whenever God calls me home.
November 22, 1963… I was in the 5th grade. I was being raised a good protestant Christian in a part of the country where a Roman Catholic president was regarded with suspicion at best, and disgust more likely. I had a friend whose parents took us to hear Kennedy speak when he came to the area. The local airport didn’t have a runway that could accomodate Air Force One, so they had to land in Huntsville about 70 miles away. He didn’t seem so strange.
Coming in from the playground (PE class?) I remember the day being gray and the flag at half mast. I’d never seen a flag at half mast — none of us had. And then the teachers had to explain that President Kennedy had been shot and killed. I remember watching the funeral mass on TV and talk about the color of the vestments (not black? did priests ever wear black? I don’t know). I remember little John Kennedy trying to comprehend what was going on.
I’ve been a practicing Catholic for more years now than I was a protestant. I’m a totally Vatican II type. I’m not sure I could have made the leap into the pre-Vatican II church. Today I was trying to read some documents on liturgy because of a comment made by one of our musicians today. And I sat and thought — these rules and guidelines are all well and good. But, I’m sure they matter much more to human beings than they do to the Creator. I can only maintain my sanity when I read through them and dig deeply into the underlying message. The message that reminds me that prayer is not just words, but action and attitude and listening. The message that reminds me to do my part to make a space for prayer not only for myself but for those I serve.
November 22 is a day to remember.
by Liz | Nov 20, 2008 | main
Yesterday was the first day in 3 weeks that I didn’t even think about taking something to make me feel more comfortable in the afternoon… (I had some surgery a little over 3 weeks ago). I’m off the antibiotics, and the stitches, for the most part seem to be healing. I’ve felt a little tired, and a little cranky at some point everyday. But not bad. So, if you asked me how I felt I would say “good.”
And then yesterday, I realized that I felt much better. I felt more normal. More like myself.
This is a physical sort of “feeling good.” But, it seems that I experience that in other ways – emotional and spiritual. I can go for long periods of time where I perceive that I am doing well only to have an “aha!” moment and realize that the absence of war is not peace. It is quite possible for me to turn off the war inside, refuse to feel, and go my merry way.
To be truly alive requires acknowledging both the pain and the joy – the love and hate of everyday life. It requires listening carefully to what these emotions tell me. It doesn’t allow for deadening the pain or tamping down the joy.
The same goes for my spiritual life… it’s not enough to just do the right things and say the right things and avoid saying bad words. Perhaps today I can be open to the Spirit and let her speak to me in the deepest parts of me. To allow myself to look at the good and the bad and be healed.
Then, perhaps, I can be truly alive.
