by Liz | Sep 27, 2008 | main
Today I join my Vincentian brothers and sisters in celebrating the feast of St. Vincent de Paul.
My thoughts too jumbled to write much about how the life of this 17th century French priest has shaped my understanding of God’s love and how to live in response to that. He recognized the value of women and their contributions. He taught clergy to work with laity. He believed that action was necessary, but must be preceded by prayer and meditation. He used the tools of his day to communicate with others. He was inspired by the poor to work for and with the poor.
Timeless themes in my view. Practical ideas of how to live the Gospel.
And so I thank God, not only for Vincent’s life, but for the many who live out this Charism – especially those who are closest to me and walk parts of this journey with me.
More on Vincent de Paul, the Vincentian Charism and the many people and groups that have grown out of this Charism is available in the Vincentian Encyclopedia.
by Liz | Sep 23, 2008 | main
We are all given talents – gifts, that is. Jesus even taught about this in the parable where the 3 individuals were given varying talents. He goes away for a while and returns later to see how these talents were used… It sounds like a talent is like a dollar, but it could be anything. Anyway, as we all know, the one who got 5000, went out and doubled the amount. The same with 3000. But the one who had little, only 1000, buried them, and returned exactly what he received. The first 2 were praised, the 3 scolded and sent away.
It seems to be about investment. I have many gifts, many talents. Not great talents, not great gifts, but an adequate supply. These won’t make me famous. And, in my mind’s eye, they are probably minor talents. But, the ones that I have invested are the ones that have paid off.
I love music. I don’t have a wonderful voice — I’ve long suffered from allergies, and I’ve done things that haven’t helped my voice quality. Over the course of nearly 45 years, I have spent a lot of time with a guitar in my hands. I’m good enough to know how good I’m not. But, the investment has paid off. I am a parish musician. As such, I have been put in intimate contact with music that expresses the things that I don’t have spoken words to express. I have had the opportunity to learn from other musicians. Scripture put to music speaks to me at many levels, and I remember it better. It has led me to read church documents of liturgy that I would probably have never looked at otherwise. It causes me to consider the Sunday readings more deeply as I try to select music to celebrate the themes. For me, the investment in this bit of a talent I have been given has paid back even more than the doubling of the gift that the 2 good servants experienced. I pray that this is what the Lord is asking of me.
In other areas, I’m a bit more like the bad servant. I’ve buried gifts that I don’t care to pursue. My mother has observed repeatedly that I always wanted to pursue things that I wasn’t good at, and ignore things that came easy or that I could be good at. Maybe that is true. I’m certain I have never lived up to my academic potential.
It’s funny though – the practice of crafting these posts is an investment in a talent that maybe I have buried. I thank my friends who encourage me to practice writing. I am grateful for their support of my investment in any small gift I have for stringing a bunch of words together to convey an idea.
With that said, I’ll also continue to encourage the gifts and talents of others. The ability to do that seems to be such a gift that I see in others, and one worthy of investment.
by Liz | Aug 23, 2008 | main
Thursday evening after choir practice, [Fr.] Alex, Timothy and I stood around in the parking lot, sharing and discussing recent readings. I love to watch Alex when he gets going. He starts to talk about Jesus and his faith and his entire being lights up. Timothy too dove into the sharing…
As we talked, Alex shared that the question he will leave with us during the weekend masses will be “Who is Jesus to you?” — very adamantly he added that he wasn’t interested in what you have been taught as “fact” about Jesus or church, he didn’t want to know the “proper” answers.
How would I answer that question? The story of a Marine shot down in the jungle of Viet Nam comes to mind. As he struggled to get himself together and wonder how he would ever get to safety as native appeared as if from thin air.
“Follow me. I will take you to safety.”
“You will show me the path? You will show me the road?”
“No – there is no path. Follow ME. I am the way you get out.”
And so it is with following Jesus for me. He is the Way. Paths can be helpful. They can make it easier to cover certai terrain. But in the end – my individual path is simply walking with him, and knowing him.
by Liz | Aug 10, 2008 | main
Graduation took less than 2 hours. No guest speaker. New PhD’s hooded all together at the same time. But, every name got called, and it was streamed over the internet, so my mom got to watch Daniel cross the stage. She probably had a better view than I did. It’s done. The cap and gown turned in and the diploma picked up.
In the car going over to campus, (6 of us crammed into a Forerunner that could actually handle 5), my daughter made a comment about all 3 of them now being college grads. The tears welled up in me. Tears of pride. Tears of joy. Tears of loss. You spend their childhood preparing them to grow up and leave and have their own lives. You pray over them, yell at them, hug them and cry for and with them. You wonder if they will ever grow up!
And then they do. The chicks leave the nest under the power of their own wings. And, you cry, just a few tears, once again.
God has no grandchildren. I know that they are just as much “child of God” as I am.
Just as happens over and over again, a new day is dawning. I wonder what it will bring.
by Liz | Jul 27, 2008 | main
OK – so I’ll borrow from today’s homily: choices. After Jesus tells the parables, he asks “Do you understand these things?” and the disciples answer “yes.” And Jesus tells them they must make a choice. We were then challenged: When will you own your own Christianity? (and not come to church because someone else thinks you should)… Will you make the choice to take ownership of your faith. (apologies Jack, if I got this all wrong)
Oh, but I so often, just when I think I could answer “Yes, I understand” it’s really that I don’t understand. If I’d really understood, I’m not sure I’d have gotten married, or had my first child. It would have scared me too much to go through with being baptized (I was 13) had I understood more than I did. It would have been beyond me to say “yes” if I’d had that much understanding before I stepped out and took action.
Of late, the scriptures have touched me in ways that make me understand that I just didn’t understand before. That’s kind of scary, because, if I follow the logic, then I probably don’t understand yet… or rather, I will likely come to a new understanding as I follow this walk. I’m beginning to appreciate that all I can understand is that a “Yes” means only that I understand that what comes next will work to good without any real comprehension of what might be required of me.
And so, I sat this morning and wondered just what those disciples thought they understood. And, what did they think later when they reflected on the choice they made?
