Holy Thursday ~ at the table of the world . . .

 

 

Blessing the Bread, The Cup ~ Holy Thursday

Let us bless the bread

that gives itself to us

with its terrible weight,

its infinite grace.

 

Let us bless the cup

poured out for us

with a love

that makes us anew.

 

Let us gather

around these gifts

simply given

and deeply blessed.

 

And then let us go

bearing the bread,

carrying the cup,

laying the table

within a hungering world.

 

https://www.janrichardson.com/

Circle of Grace

The Face . . .

 

The Story of the Painting of the Last Supper
  by: Author Unknown, Source Unknown

Leonardo Da Vinci, the noted Italian artist painted the Last Supper. It took seven years for him to complete it. The figures representing the twelve Apostles and Christ himself were painted from living persons. The life-model for the painting of the figure of Jesus was chosen first. When it was decided that Da Vinci would paint this great picture, hundreds and hundreds of young men were carefully viewed in an endeavor to find a face and personality exhibiting innocence and beauty, free from the scars and signs of dissipation caused by sin. Finally, after weeks of laborious search, a young man nineteen years of age was selected as a model for the portrayal of Christ. For six months Da Vinci worked on the production of this leading character of his famous painting. During the next six years Da Vinci continued his labors on this sublime work of art. One by one fitting persons were chosen to represent each of the eleven Apostles -- with space being left for the painting of the figure representing Judas Iscariot as the final task of this masterpiece. This was the Apostle, you remember, who betrayed his Lord for thirty pieces of silver. For weeks Da Vinci searched for a man with a hard, callous face, with a countenance marked by scars of avarice, deceit, hypocrisy, and crime. A face that would delineate a character who would betray his best friend. After many discouraging experiences in searching for the type of person required to represent Judas, word came to Da Vinci that a man whose appearance fully met his requirements had been found in a dungeon in Rome, sentenced to die for a life of crime and murder. Da Vinci made the trip to Rome at once, and this man was brought out from his imprisonment in the dungeon and led out into the light of the sun. There Da Vinci saw before him a dark, swarthy man his long shaggy and unkempt hair sprawled over his face, which betrayed a character of viciousness and complete ruin. At last the famous painter had found the person he wanted to represent the character of Judas in his painting. By special permission from the king, this prisoner was carried to Milan where the picture was being painted. For months he sat before Da Vinci at appointed hours each day as the gifted artist diligently continued his task of transmitting, to his painting, this base character representing the traitor and betrayer of our Savior. As he finished his last stroke, he turned to the guards and said, I have finished. You may take the prisoner away. As the guards were leading their prisoner away, he suddenly broke loose from their control and rushed up to Da Vinci, crying as he did so, "Da Vinci, look at me. Do you not know who I am?" Da Vinci, with the trained eyes of a great character student, carefully scrutinized the man upon whose face he had constantly gazed for six months and replied, "No, I have never seen you in my life until you were brought before me out of the dungeon in Rome." Then, lifting his eyes toward heaven, the prisoner said, "Oh God, have I fallen so low?" Then turning his face to the painter he cried, "Leonardo Da Vinci, look at me again for I am the same man you painted just seven years ago as the figure of Christ."

March 30 ~ Remembering Thea Bowman

 

“Maybe I’m not making big changes in the world, but if I have somehow helped or encouraged somebody along the journey then I’ve done what I’m called to do.”
(Thea Bowman) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thea_Bowman

“Rev. Bede Abram, celebrant of Thea Bowman’s funeral Mass, prayed in conclusion: ‘Oh God, as you did not lose her in her coming to us, we do not lose her in her going back to you.’  It appears that she will live on in the lives of all she touched.”
(Mary Queen Donnelly)

Sr. Thea Bowman, a Fransciscan sister of Perpetual Adoration died March 30, 1990, of bone cancer at the age of 52. For the last two years of her life she was confined to a bed or a wheelchair, but her spirit continued to soar, as it had throughout her career as an evangelist, artist, singer and educator. Three weeks before her death, the editor of the Jackson, MS, diocesan newspaper asked her to dictate a meditation on Holy Week. It was published April 6, 1990.

Here is the text, titled "Let us love one another during Holy Week":
Let us resolve to make this week holy by claiming Christ's redemptive grace and by living holy lives. The Word became flesh and redeemed us by his holy life and holy death. This week especially, let us accept redemption by living grateful, faithful, prayerful, generous, just and holy lives.

Let us resolve to make this week holy by reading and meditating (on) Holy Scripture. So often, we get caught up in the hurry of daily living. As individuals and as families, reserve prime time to be with Jesus, to hear the cries of the children waving palm branches, to see the Son of Man riding on an ass' colt, to feel the press of the crowd, to be caught up in the ''Hosannas" and to realize how the cries of acclamation will yield to the garden of suffering, to be there and watch as Jesus is sentenced by Pilate to Calvary, to see him rejected, mocked, spat upon, beaten and forced to carry a heavy cross, to hear the echo of the hammer, to feel the agony of the torn flesh and strained muscles, to know Mary's anguish as he hung three hours before he died.

We recoil before the atrocities of war, gang crime, domestic violence and catastrophic illness. Unless we personally and immediately are touched by suffering, it is easy to read Scripture and to walk away without contacting the redemptive suffering that makes us holy. The reality of the Word falls on deaf ears.

Let us take time this week to be present to someone who suffers. Sharing the pain of a fellow human will enliven Scripture and help us enter into the holy mystery of the redemptive suffering of Christ. 

Let us resolve to make this week holy by participating in the Holy Week services of the church, not just by attending, but also by preparing, by studying the readings, entering into the spirit, offering our services as ministers of the Word or Eucharist, decorating the church or preparing the environment for worship.

Let us sing, "Lord, have mercy," and "Hosanna." Let us praise the Lord with our whole heart and soul and mind and strength, uniting with the suffering church throughout the world -- in Rome and Northern Ireland, in Syria and Lebanon, in South Africa and Angola, India and China, Nicaragua and El Salvador, in Washington and Jackson.

Let us break bread together; let us relive the holy and redemptive mystery. Let us do it in memory of him, acknowledging in faith his real presence upon our altars.

Let us resolve to make this week holy by sharing holy peace and joy within our families, sharing family prayer on a regular basis, making every meal a holy meal where loving conversations bond family members in unity, sharing family work without grumbling, making love not war, asking forgiveness for past hurts and forgiving one another from the heart, seeking to go all the way for love as Jesus went all the way for love.

Let us resolve to make this week holy by sharing holy peace and joy with the needy, the alienated, the lonely, the sick and afflicted, the untouchable.

Let us unite our sufferings, inconveniences and annoyances with the suffering of Jesus. Let us stretch ourselves, going beyond our comfort zones to unite ourselves with Christ's redemptive work.

We unite ourselves with Christ's redemptive work when we reconcile, when we make peace, when we share the good news that God is in our lives, when we reflect to our brothers and sisters God's healing, God's forgiveness, God's unconditional love.

Let us be practical, reaching out across the boundaries of race and class and status to help somebody, to encourage and affirm somebody, offering to the young an incentive to learn and grow, offering to the downtrodden resources to help themselves.

May our fasting be the kind that saves and shares with the poor, that actually contacts the needy, that gives heart to heart, that touches and nourishes and heals.

During this Holy Week when Jesus gave his life for love, let us truly love one another.

Holy Monday . . .

 

Anointing in Bethany (John 12:1-11)

Solemnly, Mary entered the room, holding high the alabaster jar. It gleamed in the lamplight as she circled the room, incensing the disciples, blessing Martha’s banquet. “A splendid table!” Mary called with her eyes as she whirled past her sister.

She came to a halt at last before Jesus, bowed profoundly and knelt at his feet. Deftly, she filled her right hand with nard, placed the jar on the floor, took one foot in her hands and moved fragrant fingers across his instep.

Over and over she made the journey from heel to toes, thanking him for every step he had made on Judea’s stony hills, for every stop at their home, for bringing back Lazarus.

She poured out more nard, took his other foot in her hands and started again with strong, rhythmic strokes. She felt her hands’ heat draw out his tiredness, take away the rebuffs he had known – the shut doors, the shut hearts.

Energy flowed like a river between them.  His saturated skin gleamed with oil. She had no towel!

In an instant she pulled off her veil, pulled the pins from her hair, shook it out till it fell in cascades, and once more cradled each foot, dried the ankles, the insteps, drew the strands between his toes.

Without warning, Judas Iscariot spat out his anger, the words hissing like lightning above her unveiled head: “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?”

 “Leave her alone!” Jesus silenced the usurper. “She brought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial.”

The words poured like oil, anointing her from head to foot. 

From: Woman Un-Bent by Irene Zimmerman

Servant Freed!

 

I stand in the darkened fissure of the stable,
lit only by the glowing face of
the boy-child.   
Parent eyes glistening with holy wonder,
while heavened stars point to
mangered Messiah.                                                                                 
I listen, I wonder, I breathe, for I am only servant.

I stand in the darkened temple portico
observing those of the Law encircling
the teacher-child.                                                                    
His face radiates with purpose and passion about God’s call!
I listen, I wonder, I breathe, for I am only servant.

I stand in the Cana garden among the six stoneware water jars.                      
His mother moving his mission,
“Do whatever he tells you.”
Waters of purification touched                                                 
with words of transformation
become intoxicating wedding wine.               
Speak these words over me . . .
fill me to the brim with courage
as I listen, as I wonder,
as I breathe, for I am only servant.

I stand along the steep grassy edges
of the partial rocky hillside,                                                               
His face emits energy with each spoken,
“Blessed are you!”                                   
I listen, I wonder, I breathe, for I am only servant.

I stand in the upper room, corner-concealed,
yet his eyes beckon me to move    
within his touch.
His carpentered hands accept each foot
as with the artistry
of fitting roughhewn wood.
With tender, soothing, healing - intimate knowing,
he bends to wash my feet.

Upon this embrace -
God-light, God-love streams
into my very soul-                     
I listen and hear
within me:                                                                                                                                               
Untie her.                                                               
What do you want me to do for you?                                          
Pick up your mat.                                                               
I do not condemn you.                                                           
You are worth more than many sparrows.                        
You are no longer servant – you are friend.   
I wonder, I breathe . . .
 sjh

A Week Called HOLY!

 

 

We all are familiar with parades, marches, protests, demonstrations, rituals and rallies. However, through the Scriptures in this week called Holy, we are invited to observe, ponder, and participate in processions.  Today we have two Gospels, one recounting Jesus’ procession into Jerusalem, and the other with the profound story of his passion and death as he processed to Golgotha.

 At the beginning of Lent on Ash Wednesday, we processed to receive ashes, visibly marking our willingness to enter once again into a conversion of heart, and to hear the Good News deeper within and around us.  This week, on Holy Thursday, we will experience the procession  for foot washing and also the procession moving the Blessed Sacrament  to the Altar of Repose.  

 On Good Friday, we process with the cross and remember Jesus’ procession to the hill outside the city of Jerusalem.  At the Easter Vigil, we will process with the new Easter Fire from the Easter Candle, and place it in our midst while we sing our Alleluias.

Let us also recall that every liturgy is filled with processions . . .namely, the entrance procession, the Gospel procession, offertory procession, our reception of Eucharist is a procession, and our own entrance and leave-taking are also done in procession.  We frequently experience a variety of processions throughout our lives . . .and what do they signify?

 Processions are not just a way to get people from here to there in an orderly manner. They are ritual expressions of who we are and what we are about. We are people of faith on a journey of life....(And this is not a dress rehearsal!)

This week, let us ponder the processions in our own lives . . .our Baptism and reception of the Sacraments, graduation, Jubilee or Wedding processions, and consider our own funeral procession. Then we may also want to reflect on the many individual processions we make daily in our life setting.  Some of us may even reflect on the "processions" of standing in line for bottled water, or processing by car to receive a box of food at a food distribution center.  Or processing in a line to receive a COVID test or a COVID vaccination.

 Therefore, let us ask the Spirit for the graces of insight, guidance, wisdom, forgiveness, and hope as we pray this week . . .

·       for an open mind to understand the depths of our journey of faith,

·       for an open heart to embrace the joyful and sorrowful mysteries of our personal and collective faith journey,

·       And for an open spirit to welcome, receive, and listen to the flow of life as we are invited to speak our “yes” to what is forever unfolding for us as we process on our journey of faith during these days of celebrating joyful and sorrow mysteries.

 

 

Palms of Hosanna!

 

 

 

Blessings of Palms
By Jan Richardson

This blessing can be heard coming
from a long way off.

This blessing is making
its way up the road
toward you.

This blessing blooms in the throats
of women,
springs from the hearts
of men,
tumbles out of the mouths
of children.

This blessing is stitched into
the seams of the cloaks
that line the road,
etched in the branches
that trace the path,
echoes in the breathing
of the willing colt,
the click of the donkey’s hoof
against the stones.

Something is rising beneath this blessing.
Something will try to drown it out.

But this blessing cannot be turned back,
cannot be made to still its voice,
cannot cease to sing its praise
of the One who comes
along the way
it makes.

From: Circle of Grace, Wanton Gospeller Press, Orlando, FL, 2015
 http://www.janrichardson.com/index.htmlichardson.com 
©Jan Richardson. janrichardson.com

Ready, Set, Give Yourself Away! . . .

 

 

 

 

Entry
( Matthew 21:1-11) 

The stage is set
and everything washed clean
in a rain of sunshine.
Hands reach out
to calm a skittish colt,
bewildered by its burden.
The Son of David
rides a rainbowed road
that rocks with hosannas.
(Irene Zimmerman, OSF)

Gladness and Madness - all in one week!

 

In March of 2013, we all with some form of technology or in person gathered around a little chimney to watch it produce white smoke to signal the election of a new pope.  Eventually, Francis appeared on the draped balcony amidst red robed cardinals and “priests in waiting.” The days kept building with March Gladness in preparation for the pope’s inauguration when he would be presented with the Pallium, the Ring, and the Book of the Gospels signifying the beginning of his pontificate.

His election became even more of a reality when throngs of people in the square outside St. Peter’s Basilica appeared including marching bands, Swiss Guards in their finest, clergy in their finest as well, with trumpets blaring, and with Patriarchs and Major Archbishops of the Eastern Rite Catholic Churches, heads of the official delegations from various countries, accompanied with vested cardinals in attendance. Again, this is the extent of my hierarchy expertise.  However, I believe this March Gladness was to be a clue as to what we would hear happen in the Scriptures during Holy Week.

Holy Week, beginning with Palm Sunday, presents us with the reading of the Passion after processing with palms. Then we listen to the reading of the Gospel of Mark. He does not have the parade of peoples as Luke, but we celebrate this threshold as we enter deeper into the Paschal Mystery.  Here begins the March Gladness which will eventually be turned into March Madness on Good Friday . . . These readings are filled with much symbolism. I suggest you consider reading a biblical commentary, i.e., Preaching the New Lectionary bySister Dianne Bergant.  

Jesus enters Jerusalem riding upon a colt, no Popemobile for him. He will meet throngs of people cheering Hosannas now and later hurling shouts of “crucify him.” Religious and political leaders presently puzzled now, already plotting in their hearts how to get rid of this “presence that disturbs.” No banners, no bands, no ring, no Pallium of lamb’s wool. For you see, he is the “sacrificial lamb.” No Book of the Gospels - for he is Word;  he is the Good News that now comes in gladness only to enter into the Good Friday madness of darkness, anger, and hate. He will stare evil in the face – this, too, will be a legendary performance with a fantastic finish - alternating with the agony and ecstasy of predictions gone right - gone Mysteriously right!



A Week Named . . .HOLY!

 

A businessman known for his ruthless practices bragged to Mark Twain, “Before I die I mean to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. I will climb Mount Sinai and read the 10 Commandments aloud at the top.” Twain retorted, “I have a better idea. You could stay in Boston and keep them.”
As we enter into this week named HOLY there is no need to make a pilgrimage to a far away land, or to climb a sacred high mountain, or shout out commandments once given to Moses!

The HOLY can be found within our own hearts and lives.  The land upon which we live, walk, and have our being is holy.  The "mountains" of joyful and sorrowful events in our everyday world call us to be open to transformation.  And the Beatitudes of today invite us to live with justice, mercy, forgiveness, and compassion.  All is HOLY this week. 

Nichole M. Flores, Ph.D. Preaches for Palm Sunday (3/28/2021)

The Grocery Store Blessing . . .

There is a grocery store in our town that has a foundational philosophy of Servant Leadership.  Every customer is considered a guest. My experience has been that when you wander through the store and look puzzled at finding what you want, suddenly a clerk appears to help you. When you express gratitude for their service, they respond, “My pleasure.”  One time I couldn’t find an ingredient I needed for a marvelous dish, so I went to the manager and inquired. He instantly took out his Smartphone and searched as to where he could locate it among their distribution warehouses.  He said, “I’ve located it, but it won’t be here until two days from now. When we get it in, we will call you.”  I expressed my gratitude for his service, and he responded, “My pleasure.”

In a past retreat experience, I was the facilitator of the reconciliation prayer service.  This meant that I was chosen to give the introductions, organizing the readings, and giving a short reflection on the readings before the ministers went off to administer the Sacrament to the participants. Well, I couldn’t help but tell them the story of my grocery store experiences of “My pleasure.”  But in my reflection, I related this comment to how God might relate to us in our healing and forgiveness.

We come to retreat entering into silence, searching for a word of hope, an insight, a specific grace, an affirmation, or a challenge where we may meet new Nazareths  and new Bethlehems.  We sense that we are in the presence of the Holy and we express our prayer of gratitude. It is then at the level of the sacred we hear whispered in our heart, “My pleasure.”  For God does not desire worthiness but only willingness. 

What if we would enter into the Sacrament with such sincerity, and a deep desire to be healed and forgiven that deep within us as we express our gratitude for the flood of healing grace – God says, “My pleasure.”  What if, as we walk and live beyond that moment of gracing in the Sacrament, we encounter a situation where we need the courage and integrity we prayed for in the sacrament? Then again deep within us we sense a movement of grace, a surge of courage to stand in a non-defended stance and softly hear . . . “My pleasure.”

It just seems that before the thought has fully formed within us, or the words have left our lips, God rushes to embrace us saying,  “Anything you desire is yours; all you have to do is ask – then say no more . . .for you are welcomed here, you are accepted here, you are loved here.” And humbly we say, “Thank you.” And God responds,” My pleasure."

Memorial of Oscar Romero ~ "I will rise again in the people of El Salvador."

 

March 24 ~ 41st Anniversary of the Assassination 

of 

Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador 

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view. 
The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent
enterprise that is God's work. Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of
saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the Church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.

This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an
opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.

*This prayer was composed by Bishop Ken Untener of Saginaw, drafted for a homily by Card. John Dearden in Nov. 1979 for a celebration of departed priests. As a reflection on the anniversary of the martyrdom of Bishop Romero, Bishop Untener included in a reflection book a passage titled "The mystery of the Romero Prayer." The mystery is that the words of the prayer are attributed to Oscar Romero, but they were never spoken by him.

Pat McDonough Preaches for the Solemnity of the Annuncation (3/25/2021)

Missing Out!

There was a small boy who when walking down the street one day found a bright copper penny. He was so excited that he found money and it didn’t cost him anything. This experience led him to spend the rest of his days walking with his head down, eyes wide open, looking for treasure.

During his lifetime he found 296 pennies, 48 nickels, 19 dimes, 16 quarters, 2 half dollars and one crinkled dollar bill. For a total of $13.96.

He got money for nothing. Except that he missed the breathless beauty of 31,369 sunsets, the colorful splendor of 157 rainbows, the fiery beauty of hundreds of maples nipped by autumn’s frost. He never saw white clouds drifting across blue skies, shifting into various wondrous formations. Birds flying, sun shining, and the smiles of a thousand passing people are not a part of his memory. (author unknown)

Reflection Upon the Coming of Spring!

 

Ready for Spring (by Annette L. Sherwood, 2013)

I stand here watching
waiting, listening
in early Spring
I see the tiny bud
shooting up from
the tip of the branch
in anticipation, I remain still

I take in the cold air,
watching a few snowflakes fall by,
even feeling some of them
melt on my cheek
I breathe in this Holy moment

I did not plant the seed,
nor spend effort to encourage
original years of growth
No, that was not my work
only yours, Dear
I stand here with you now,
holding your hand,
awaiting Spring

We’ve made it through
another harsh spell,
cold, windy, bare
facing together a New Season,
we stand in a patch of wet snow
as it melts at our feet

Here I am, to Rejoice with you
as we experience New Growth
little buds are formed,
the flowering has already begun
together or apart, we delight
and share this moment
knowing New Life,
fresh perspective, and green leaves
are arriving,
even as the last storm is passing…

Spring starts blossoming now

The winter of our hearts will
begin to fade into cold
distant memories

Joy begins sprouting
with our eyes,
in our smiles,
as it softens our hearts,
leading us to laughter

Hope enters,
which we know
will bud,
into the flower,
and then the seed,
gently dropping to feed the birds

The passing order of this Season
feels like it is rooting us on
toward New Life

Before long,
these cold days will pass away
into warm ones with
mild breezes
and
Easter Blessings
carrying a new promise for Life

In Gratitude,
I bear witness
to Your Beautiful Spring
and Celebrate!

http://www.annettelsherwood.com/index.php

Grace Salceanu Preaches for the Fifth Sunday of Lent (3/21/2021)

An Irish Blessing . . .

 May you be blest

with the strength of heaven,
the light of the sun,
the radiance of the moon,
the splendor of fire,
the speed of lightning,
the swiftness of wind,
the depth of the sea,
the stability of earth,
and the firmness of rock.

May the strength of God guide us.
May the power of God preserve us.
May the wisdom of God instruct us.
May the hand of God protect us.
May the way of God direct us.
May the shield of God defend us.
May the angels of God guard us,
Against the snares of the evil one.
May Christ be with us!
May Christ be before us!
May Christ be in us, Christ be over all!
May your grace, Lord, always be ours,
This day, O Lord, and forevermore.

Bread for the Journey!

 

Irish Soda Bread Muffins

1 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/4 cup plus 1 tsp. sugar, divided
1 tsp. baking powder,
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 tablespoons beaten egg
1/3 cup raisins

In small bowl, combine flour,1/4 cup sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. In another bowl, whisk the sour cream, oil and egg; stir into dry ingredients just until moistened. Fold in raisins.

Fill six greased or paper-lined muffin cups half full.
Sprinkle with remaining sugar. Bake at 400
for 15-18 minutes. Cool for 5 min. before removing to 
a wire rack. Can be doubled.  Enjoy.

Patrick ~ Man of Courage, Man of Legends . . .

 

St. Patrick

May your troubles be less
And your blessings be more
And nothing but happiness
Come though your door

The Blessing of Light, Rain and Earth

May the blessing of Light be on you
light without and light within.

May the blessed sunlight shine on you
And warm your heart till it glows
Like a great peat fire, so that the stranger
may come and warm himself at it
and also a friend.

And may the light shine out of the two eyes of you
Like a candle set in the windows of a house
Bidding the wanderer to come in out of the storm.
And may the blessing of the Rain be upon you, the soft sweet rain.
May it fall upon your spirit so that all the little flowers may spring up
And shed their sweetness on the air
And may the blessing of the Great Rains be on you
May they beat upon your spirit and wash it fair and clean
And leave there many a shining pool where the blue of heaven shines
And sometimes a star.

And may the blessing of the Earth be upon you, the great round earth
May you ever have a kindly greeting for them you pass
As you're going along the roads
May the earth be soft under you when you rest upon it
Tire at the end of the day
And may it rest easy over you
When at the last you lay out under it
May it rest so lightly over you
That your soul may be out from under it quickly
And up, and off, and on its way to God.

(Author Unknown)

Inner Questing . . .

 

 

“There is no pain or sorrow which comes to us that has not first passed through the heart of God.” -Meister Eckhart

The river birch, with its salmon colored shaggy bark, is very hardy; able to withstand frost and wind, and thrives well in damp riverside soil.  About the only thing it cannot tolerate is shade. Shedding its bark is a natural developmental characteristic – the peeling of paper-thin layers makes room for new growth to happen.  If the peeling is premature, the tree will become “wounded” and fail to grow.  

Sometimes along our journey of life, we come to an awareness that we need to be healed from our inner wounding that resides deep in our soul space. This healing is always a challenge, a process, and a sacred adventure! Much like the river birch trees, we, too have layers of old wounds that need to be peeled away, each in their own time.     
    
To set out on this inner quest, we (unlike the river birch) learn to befriend the shade – our shadow self, who truly is our teacher - inviting us to name our fears, doubts, pains, and illusions. In so doing, we gently peel off  layers placing all into God’s loving embrace.  

With each inner “pilgrimage”, we gather courage and integrity to go ever deeper to enter our wounding with grace and faith.  We then let grief have its way with us, allowing our tears to bless us as they carry away our hurts.  

God Being With Us . . .

 

God Be With Us

May God be with us in strength, holding us in strong-fingered hands; and may we be the sacrament of God’s strength to those whose hands we hold.

May God be with us in gentleness, touching us with sunlight and rain and wind. May God’s tenderness shine through us to warm all who are hurt and lonely.

May God be with us in wonder, delighting us with thunder and song, sunrise and daisy; enchanting our senses, filling our hearts, giving us wide-open eyes for seeing and splendor in the humble and majestic. And may we open the eyes and hearts of the blind and the insensitive.

May God be with us in love and friendship, listening to us, speaking to us, drawing us close as we tremble at the edge of self-gift.  May God’s love in us light fires of faith and hope, glow in our eyes and meet God’s love glowing in the eyes of our friends.

May God be with us in compassion, holding us close when we are weary and hurt and alone – when there is rain in our heart. And may we be the warm hands and the warm eyes of compassion for our friends when they reach out to us in need.

May God be with us in joy, thrilling us with nearness, filling our heart to fullness and filling our throat to ringing, singing exultation.

May God be with us in peace, stilling the heart that hammers with fear and doubt and confusion, and may our peace, the warm mantle of your peace, cover those who are troubled or anxious.

May God be with us in simplicity, opening us to a clearer vision of what is real and true, leading us deeply into the mystery of life and may our dealings with others be marked by honesty.

May God be with us today and every day. May God hold each of us, empowering us with understanding, love, and respect.
May God’s forgiveness touch our hearts, enabling us to forgive ourselves and each other.

And finally, may we experience God’s peace and the joy that results from unity and prayer, shared values, and common vision
Author Unknown

 

 

 

Lenten Poetry . . .

 

Poem: "For Lent" by Monica Lavia

What are you giving up for Lent? Adam asked of Eve.

Well, Eve said. I am thinking I should give up apples.

And what about you, husband of mine?

Adam replied, I think I am going to give up taking advice from you.

 

What are you giving up for Lent?

Abel asked his brother Cain?

Cain replied, I am going to try to give up my anger

Lest in a weak moment, I injure someone I love.

 

What are you giving up for Lent?

Jacob asked his twin, Esau.

Apparently my birthright, little brother of mine.

 

What are you giving up for Lent?

Moses asked of Aaron?

I am going to give up worshiping false gods                                                

Especially the golden calf variety.                                                                 

What about you? Aaron asked Moses in return.                                         

I am giving up my need to see the promised land.       

                             

What are you giving up for Lent?       

Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar asked Job.                                                         

I am giving up trying to understand the mind of God.    

                            

What are you giving up for Lent?  I asked of Mary.

She whispered her response so softly

I had to move in close to her to hear her hushed reply:

My only Son

(Original source unknown)