by Liz | May 21, 2009 | main
Advertising is targeted — it’s really obvious if you pay any attention at all to the ads that show up in the sidebar of a google account or a Facebook page or have every bought anything from Amazon and get on their mailing lists. Some of our other utilities try to figure out what we will like – It seems that Tivo will try to figure out by the shows you record what it thinks you might like to watch and can record things for you. It seems that programs — just like people — can draw some very odd conclusions.
There’s a story about a guy who had a Tivo that thought he was gay. When he tried to make it change its mind, by recording lots of war movies (“guy stuff”) it decided he was a crazy who wanted to see everything about Nazi bigwigs. I have ordered books from Amazon so I get email because they want to sell me everything Mary Daley and Sue Monk Kidd have every written… and watches, fancy lotions and camera equipment. Facebook sure seems to think I want desparately to lose weight and get rid wrinkles while studying photography. And just this morning, as I read my email from The Daily Gospel I found ads for The American Monk (Accelerate your spiritual growth…), Speaking in tongues today, Dr. Oz’s Real Age Test (???) and the Gnostic Bookstore. But, the ones that intrigued me the most were the learn more about the Easter Bunny and Kindergarten Sightwords.
Kind of scary, huh? I find it to be a warning to me. As one human in a community of humans, I hope that I do better at seeing the whole, real person underneath these external expressions. But, I probably don’t. We all make two mistakes — we observe through the particular focus of our own eyes, and we so often see only the things that we are keyed in to see (keyword searching, anyone?). It might be all I CAN do — so just be aware: I’m only slightly better at judging you than Google Adsense… and therefore I shall attempt to leave that judgement to God.
by Liz | May 3, 2009 | main
Yesterday, Susan’s post Master, to whom shall we go? over at Creo en Dios! caused me to stop and consider. Susan is so good – so organized, so focussed. She is a born teacher. I follow her on Creo, and I always come away with a new, positive way to approach life and God.
On days when The Church and her many parts are frustrating me, I often find myself thinking — “I’m outta here!” I struggle with the institution. My gut screams, at times, when the it seems that the goal is not finding God and responding in with love to the gift of Jesus, but the goal is the enforcement of outer trappings. All those i’s to dot, and t’s cross. Get the official baptismal certificate for my son so he can the paperwork in place to get married. Make sure all the music is in acceptable to the powers that be for this service, or that ceremony. Shake my head at the priest who is uncomfortable with a certain devotion because it must be prayed at 3pm (and I understand his discomfort with something that seems almost superstitious) but then he turns around and becomes a hind-bound, unmovable rock with respect to the performance of other church rituals.
And then I stop – “But where would I go?” At this point I find that, just as Susan describes the path of discipleship, I have no other path that I am called to follow. I can’t leave because I can’t walk away from the Heart of the institution. I can’t walk away from the Eucharist that we celebrate. I know that other flavors of Christianity “have communion” – I’ve been there, and been a part of those celebrations. It’s not my walk. I sucked it up, and said “Yes” to joining this community when I was a college student. Even then I had my questions and my doubts, but there was no other way to go. In looking back, the decision to join the Catholic Church took more courage than going away to college, going away to grad school, going into counselling, getting married or staying married. In some ways, it was more difficult than the decision to actually be a Christian in the first place.
Where would I go? Nowhere. And when I accept that as truth, then the question begins to melt away.
by Liz | Feb 20, 2009 | main
Today’s Gospel (Mark 8,22-26) tells the story of Jesus healing a blind man. He takes him outside of the town, and it takes 2 passes before the man sees clearly. Then Jesus tells him to “Go home. Don’t even go into the village.”
It seems that Jesus has had to touch my eyes more than twice — and I still don’t see clearly. Well, maybe, I see clearly for brief moments. Then, those folks around me look like trees walking again.
And then – the admonition to go home. “Home is where the heart is.” Home is that place where I am completely free and safe. Home is that room inside me where I can go and just be. It seems that the path home is prayer, which opens me up to a deeper relationship with God.
Going into “The Village” seems to reflect what we do all too often — go out and share something. Keep it at a distance. Share it around so that it doesn’t have to affect me so deeply.
Next time my eyes are touched, I’ll try to remember to go home and “be” before I actually “do” anything. And hope that I do get that second look before I run off to deal with walking trees.
by Liz | Jan 19, 2009 | main
So, I open Today’s Readings in gmail and notice that all of the ads are for Bridesmaid gifts and wedding books, etc. It’s a hint – today’s gospel contains the quote from Jesus “Can the wedding guests fast while the bridegroom is with them? As long as they have the bridegroom with them they cannot fast. But the days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast on that day…”
How many times to we only pick up on certain words and not get the entire meaning? I do hope to have a better algorithm for understanding than google/gmail…
by Liz | Dec 29, 2008 | main
Fr. Jack got distracted by the readings, and wound up giving the homily I needed. He used the Hebrews reading which ends this way:
By faith Abraham, when put to the test, offered up Isaac,
and he who had received the promises was ready to offer
his only son,
of whom it was said,
“Through Isaac descendants shall bear your name.â€
He reasoned that God was able to raise even from the dead,
and he received Isaac back as a symbol.
(Hebrews 11:17-19)
That last verse caught him and he decided to reflect on just what Isaac was a symbol of… and after wandering through his thoughts, he came up with the thought that the symbol here referred to faith in the Giver, not based on the visible result. I’m not sure how he got there, and we didn’t record the homily. It seems that faith at one level relies on “results.” Like “I ask for this and it is granted.” Request -> Result. But Abraham went a step further by his willingness to do something whereby the desired result seemed impossible: to offer his son, the only visible way to fullfuill the promise that his descendants would number as many as the stars.
I sometimes do petition God — but, I have discovered it to be generally a better method to lay a situation in front of God and ask Her to be present. The outcome seems to work out best — often not the way I would have invisioned it – better… sometimes more painful, sometimes more joyful.
And so, when I found myself very disappointed yesterday, the homily rushed in on me — I’m still disappointed, but I rest in faith that whatever happens, it will be for the best in the long run.
Amen.
