Unexpected Returns

Anyone who knows me is not surprised that I find the current English mass translation to be rather poor. In general the translation seems poor, cumbersome and does not invoke a sense of beauty or better understanding of what we celebrate. I find it distancing.

There is an exception: one of the responses I learned, and repeated,  from the beginnings of my journey within the Roman Church went this way:

Lord, I am not worthy to receive You, but only say the Word and I shall be healed.

The current translation is now:

Lord, I am not worthy for You to enter under my roof, but only say the Word and my soul shall be healed.

(OK, I’m not positive I have the words exactly correct, but I think I do.)

It’s the “enter under my roof” and “my soul will/shall be healed” that have had the impact. When I heard and said the former version, I was focussed strictly on the Host — that little wafer that I received. Not that this is a bad thing, but the “enter under my roof” and the addition of the word “soul” seem to broaden my understanding. I now reflect on allowing God to enter into my “house” – into my “home” — into my life in general. My house is the world, the heart and the mind where I live.  When I say the words “under my roof” it calls up a vision of welcoming God into that space where I live. And, the grounding for where I live, day to day, in physical terms or in emotional or spiritual terms is my soul.

Now, I’m not sure what the intent of the change was. For me, this opens doors. It gives me something more concrete to work with. It points to the places where I live and to the reasons and forces that empower me to move day by day. What a beautiful surprise!

 

 

Touched

This morning at mass we sang “Servant Song” for the presentation of the gifts. This is the one that starts out with “What do you want of me, Lord? Where do you want me to serve you.” It became even more moving to me than usual because of Mery. Mery is our newest music team member. She’s from Panama. She is in her 30’s, I would guess and full of life and enthusiasm and joy. She is the mother of a toddler and wife of a grad student. English is her 3rd language, probably (after Kuni and Spanish); Mery cannot sing “Servant Song” without being moved to tears.

It is still amazing to me that music and words can bring someone to such a place – tears of joy and/or sorrow. No wonder the little phrase “To sing is to pray twice” stays and stays and stays around.

Mery was embarrassed by her tears in front of the congregation. I had to hug her. It was so good to see someone so moved by the Spirit.

…they were confused

Today, which is the feast of Pentecost, the first reading from Acts contains the line “…they were confused because each one heard them speaking in his own language.” I helped with music at mass last night, and again this morning, so I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on the readings, and only being confused.

At both masses, we were first asked “How many of you believe in the power of the Holy Spirit?” and then challenged to let the Spirit speak to us in the readings, and move us to speak during the homily time. It made for very interesting and varied reflections at the masses I attended.

Sometimes I am confused — I don’t expect God through the movement of the Holy Spirit to speak to me in my own tongue. I mean, really reach out to me right where I am. It’s almost confusing to try to grasp the fact that the Spirit comes to us right where we are — not when we accomplish something to make us worthy, or maybe only when we decide that we will go to a place and then be open. The Spirit is here and now. The Spirit is in the marvelous and the mundane. The Spirit is the power to that moves us to action, calls us to change and makes it possible to live fully.

I am so thankful that while the Spirit can “confuse” me by Her marvelous actions, She is also the power and presence that makes it possible for me to embrace the confusion and know that I am called, chosen and sent to make God’s love real in the world today.

Alleluia!

Immaculate Conception

[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.”

How Can I Keep from Singing?

There’s an old (Shaker?) hymn that has been keeping me company of late:

My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation
I hear the sweet though far off hymn
That hails a new creation:
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing;
It finds an echo in my soul—
How can I keep from singing?

What though my joys and comforts die?
The Lord my Savior liveth;
What though the darkness gather round!
Songs in the night He giveth:
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that refuge clinging;
Since Christ is Lord of Heav’n and earth,
How can I keep from singing?

I lift mine eyes; the cloud grows thin;
I see the blue above it;
And day by day this pathway smoothes
Since first I learned to love it:
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing:
All things are mine since I am His—
How can I keep from singing?

Usually I sing the modified words that Pete Seeger wrote, where the Savior is Truth, Christ is Love, and the refuge is rock, etc. But the essence if still the same and it leads me to that quiet place where I am in touch with Love and Truth and the powerful Presence (of God) that is the underpinning of all creation. Once there, How can I keep from singing?