by Liz | Nov 18, 2008 | main
Sunday’s reading was the parable about the talents — you know, the one where the one who gets many makes more and the schmuck who only gets one buries it. The one who makes more gets praise, the one who buries it and returns no more than what is given is chastised and sent off. The priest used the short form (makes it all positive and rosy.) He focused on our gifts and using them. And gave us homework – make a list of 3 gifts that you see in someone else who lives in your home – or a relative or friend. And help them to use those gifts.
When I get that list, I think I’ll try giving it to the other person… to help him remember the good that he is. I’ve been very irritated with him lately, so this is a way not only the affirm him, but to help me rearrange my own attitude. Maybe then, I can see my own gifts and use them.
Not a bad way to start the day.
by Liz | Nov 11, 2008 | main
A framed version of this prayer hangs in my kitchen as a daily reminder:
Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself, that I am growing older and will someday be old. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Release me from craving to straighten out everybody’s affairs. Make me thoughtful but not moody; helpful but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all, but Thou knowest Lord that I want a few friends at the end.
Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point. Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing, and love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of others’ pains, but help me to endure them with patience.
I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessing cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.
Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a Saint – some of them are so hard to live with – but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people. And, give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so.
AMEN
For the past couple of weeks I’ve been recovering from some surgery, and so I have to remember to ask the Lord to seal my lips on my aches and pains. Somehow, I seem to slip past the seal all too often.
by Liz | Nov 10, 2008 | main
I have a friend who observes: Practice doesn’t necessarily make perfect. Practice makes Permanent.
An astute observation, I think. Its truth is probably why I have such a hard time breaking bad habits. I’ve had so much practice at them, they must be treated seriously in order to stop. They are pretty well ingrained. Permanent (unless I really get out the Ajax Magic Eraser and go to work.) Its truth is also the reason I find it so easy not to make myself sit down and pull together even a single paragraph to post every morning. I’ve not practiced enough to make it a part of my life.
[My apologies, Jack, if I got this all different that you meant it.] In his homily yesterday, Fr. Jack made connections between the first reading where Ezekial sees the water (Life from God) flowing out of God’s house, the temple, and Jesus as the temple – or the house of God. God cannot be constrained by a building. God won’t fit into the Sanctuary. Jesus became the temple – so now God is in a person, walking around. The final connection is the second reading: We are all temples of God. Even me. It therefore behooves me to respect that temple that is myself.
At this point I begin to chuckle as I remember a Jimmy Buffett song in which the women character speaks in frustration at the man: “I treat my body like a temple; you treat yours like a tent.” Let’s have some respect here!
Why does this have any relationship to practice? If I am to remember that God resides with me, I have to practice. I need to write. I need to pray. I need to stop and remember, over and over and over. Until I have practiced so much that it is truly a part of me.
by Liz | Nov 5, 2008 | main
I’m watching/listening to MSNBC as they reflect on the fact that Obama appears to be the president elect. I heard John McCain’s concession speech – and I found it good. I couldn’t support him in his run for the presidency, but I believe him to be a good man.
I’m hearing the black men with shaking voices — almost in disbelief. It’s moving to see Jesse Jackson with tears in his eyes. My eyes are opened to what this means to many people in this country.
As I reflect on it, I see something more. Obama is being designated as “african american.” Interesting, as it seems to me that he is more a “multi-ethnic american.” A Kenyan father, a caucasian mother from Kansas. Raised partly in Hawaii (I’ve lived in Honolulu – it’s the only place where I remember being offered a menu of [Korean] kim-che, Polish sausage and Japanese beer by a smiling Samoan). Despite being a product of civil rights era Alabama, I find that I am often “color-blind.” I don’t think race ever entered into my decision process.
I remember hearing Obama speak at the Democratic Convention 4 years ago, and thinking – “This is a future US president.” The “something more” I see in this election is that Mr. Obama has been able to offer hope and a vision. I hear a touch of JFK. The “something more” is possibly that the US electorate responded to that hope and vision – and broke with the white, male mold that has generally embodied our leadership.
I feel privileged to be alive and a registered voter in a year that saw an election seriously contested by women and a man of color. It’s been a long time coming.
by Liz | Nov 2, 2008 | main
“Offer it up” is one of those concepts that constantly escapes me. So it didn’t surprise me to find it as the “question of the week” on the back of the Sunday bulletin. I know I’m not alone in wrestling with this idea.
I read the answer, which included a quote from Pope Benedict XVI — something about making things, events, etc meaningful. OK. That’s fine.
But what finally gave me something to reflect on and possibly practice was the second part of the answer. The part where the author got past offering a situation, or a time of suffering to Jesus and turned that idea inside out a bit. When I’m dealing with daily trials — annoyances, frustrating times that seems so useless, or even pain, I need to let Jesus into the situation with me. “Offer it up” as a space for being with Jesus. Let him walk with me through it and give it a meaning. I have trouble with offering my annoyances or suffering for the good of others – that equation makes no sense. But, I can understand accepting my frustrations and suffering and allowing them to become meaningful times for connecting with God. I can sit with the situation and offer it to God to make whatever good of it that can be made. That is the offering I can make and make sense of.
Now, if only I can remember this the next time I’m sitting in traffic fuming over lost time and lost gasoline, or when I’m in the throws of a raging headache. That will be the test of whether I can learn to “offer it up.”
by Liz | Oct 26, 2008 | main
Today was our fall picnic/festival complete with only one mass instead of 2 english + 1 spanish. These are always uplifting events. They also usually include at least one misstep that will bring a smile for weeks to come. Sometimes it is a missed cue at mass – bilingual masses are never quite perfect. Sometimes it is the vision of a blindfolded adult swinging wildly at a pinata (which is nowhere near the swing).
But today’s memory comes from the second reading at mass: A reading from the First Letter of Paul to the Theologians… oops… Thessalonians. That slip will keep me smiling for a long time to come.
I’ll be waiting on a reading from Paul’s second letter to the Theologians.
