by Liz | Apr 22, 2008 | main
I was just following a post on FAMVIN about what Bee Stings and Car Dents can teach us about economics. The full story is over at Boston.com.
I’m no economist (although I am the mother of an aspiring economist, but we don’t want to talk about how we see things differently), but I can identify with the idea that if you have one bee sting, you are more likely to get it treated than if you have several. Why treat only one, when the others are still going to hurt so bad? Or dents in the car — if you have one or two, it seems urgent to get them fixed, but if you can’t, and you get more, then why bother?
I don’t know whether the author is on to something or not by applying this to explain issues of poverty. But I do know the feeling of being so overwhelmed that it seems useless, if not impossible to even fix one problem. What good will it do? Life will still stink. Most everything you do will still be painful. There is no light at the end of the tunnel.
When I hit that point in life, I was lucky. I had good health insurance. I had a doctor who went to bat for me to protect my job. I had a home, a husband, kids. I had an idea that maybe there was a God who might keep me from total disaster.
But what happens to those who are stuck in that cycle of poverty and hopelessness? No health insurance? No experience that tells them that there are others they can lean on? Maybe, there isn’t anyone to lean on anyway.
I don’t know the answers. I do know that the support of others – emotional, financial, physical – can make a difference. I know that someone stepping in to help heal the first and second and third bee stings, or fix up several of the dents can move a person to a place where it might seem worth the effort required to heal the remaining stings or dents. I know that it often only really helps if treatment for the first few stings comes in such a way that it doesn’t put the recipient deeper in debt to someone.
Jesus reminds us of how we serve Him:
When I was hungry, you fed me. When I was thirsty you gave me a drink…When I needed clothing, you gave them to me…
Nowhere in that passage does He mention running a tab or setting a time limit so that it could be paid back.
My hope is that the experience of surviving and being given a shot at becoming whole will help me to understand that my job is not to judge, but to love and accept another wherever they are right now.
by Liz | Apr 21, 2008 | main
Yesterday I got a call asking me if I knew the praise song “Lord, I Lift Your Name on High” and if not, could I learn it. I’d heard it, so I went out to iTunes to get a copy so I could learn it. There were 107 different versions of this song. So, I picked the one that seemed most popular, bought it and proceeded to learn to sing and play it in a matter of minutes.
If you aren’t familiar, the words go like this (I hope I’m not in copyright trouble here):
Lord, I lift your Name on high
Lord, I love to sing Your praises
I’m so glad you’re in my life
I’m so glad you came to save us
You came from heaven to earth – to show us the way
From earth to the cross — to pay my debt
From the cross to grave, from the grave to the sky
Lord, I lift Your Name on high
I can’t get it out of my head. It’s swirling through my brain and has been for hours. I can only conclude that something about the words and the melody have (forgive me) struck a chord. There’s something inside that needs to praise the Lord. As it runs through my brain I am reminded of the idea that to sing is to pray twice.
And so, I’ll just continue to sing praises. That is quite the foundation to rest on when I’m wrestling with knotty questions and fuming about things I don’t understand and disagree with. It’s good to sit back and offer a good song of praise.
by Liz | Apr 20, 2008 | main
Today’s readings seem to be shouting at me. I’m sorting through the cacophony of voices I hear and trying to find a central theme. In Acts, I see a group freed up from “serving at table” (I’m not sure exactly what that means, yet) to be out in the community ministering. In the second reading from Peter (1 Pt 2:4-9) I hear the clear call that we are all called to offer the spiritual sacrifice – a whole people who is called to be priests. And in the Gospel (an expanded repeat of Friday’s gospel), I hear Jesus calling me to follow Him, to know Him, to stay in relationship with Him and know that He is the way home.
Where does this leave me? I know that my deep-seated belief that we are all (man, woman, layperson, clergy) called to make Jesus present might get me into hot water with Roman Catholic faithful because I’ve just never understood why Jesus would not be just as present when 2 or 3 are gathered and break bread and share a cup as He is when a priest does the same at mass.
It might seem odd that I would say that, because when asked why I converted to Catholicism (3 decades ago) my answer would have to be “The mass.” And yet it makes perfect sense to me. We believe that Jesus becomes present in the Eucharist. Not just a memorial. Not just a memory. But present, here and now with us. I did not find that in the other Christian communities I explored. And then again, I don’t know why we hold that this only really happens when an ordained priest (male and celibate) is presiding at the celebration. That Presence is simply too powerful for us to declare that it can only occur when we say it is so.
So — I look forward to mass this morning. To hearing the Word proclaimed and being in the presence of God among us.
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.
