God of all seasons . . .

 

 

O God of all seasons and senses, grant us the sense of your timing             
to submit gracefully and rejoice quietly in the turn of the seasons.

In this season of short days and long nights,
of grey and white and cold,
teach us the lessons of endings;
children growing, friends leaving, loved ones dying,
grieving over,
grudges over,
blaming over,
excuses over.

O God, grant us a sense of your timing.
In this season of short days and long nights,
of grey and white and cold,
teach us the lessons of beginnings;
that such waitings and endings may be the starting place,
a planting of seeds which bring to birth what is ready to be born—
something right and just and different,
a new song, a deeper relationship, a fuller love—
in the fullness of your time.

O God, grant us the sense of your timing.

Taken from Guerrillas of Grace by Ted Loder

 



Dreams of Making a Difference!

 

And God said:
I myself will dream a dream within you.
Good dreams come from me you know.

My dreams seem impossible,
Not too practical,
Not for the cautious    
woman or man,
A little risky sometimes,
A trifle brash perhaps.

Some of my friends prefer
To rest more comfortably,
In sounder sleep,
With visionless eyes.

But for those who share my dreams,
I ask a little patience,
A little humor,
Some small courage,
And a listening heart.
I will do the rest.

Then they will risk,
And wonder at their daring
Run, and marvel at their speed;
Build, and stand in awe at the beauty of their building.

You will meet me often as you work:
In your companions, who share your risk;
In your friends,
who believe in you enough to lend their own dreams,
Their own hands,
Their own hearts,
To your building;
In the people who will find your doorway,
Stay awhile, and walk away
Knowing they, too, can find a dream . . .

There will be sun-filled days,
And sometimes it will rain.
A little variety!
Both come from me.

So come now,
Be content.
It is my dream you dream:
My house you build;
My caring you witness;
My love you share;
And this is the heart of the matter.
Sister Charity, RGS -

November 10, 2024: Jen Frazer, OSB Preaches for the 32nd Sunday in Ordin...

Prayer during election day . . .

 O Good Shepherd, you who gather us as lambs in your arms, carrying us close to your heart, we long for peace on earth as it is in heaven. In this election season, we ask that you carry our nation close to your heart. Protect us and guide us into the ways of peace. We pray specifically against violence at political rallies, polling places, debates, and other spaces where many are gathered. May we become a nation that turns our weapons into plowshares, taking on your posture of nonviolence. By the power of your Spirit, we ask for safety to prevail and that you would lead us into the ways of your peaceful kingdom. We submit ourselves and this prayer to you, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

(Adapted from christianitytoday.com)

November 3, 2024: Eilis McCulloh, HM Preaches for the 31st Sunday in Ord...

November 1, 2024: Christine Firer Hinze Preaches for the Solemnity of Al...

Guide me, Teach me, Forgive me . . .

 

 

 

Breathe Into Me the Courage to Make Something New

Thank you for all I forget are gifts, not rights.
Forgive me for all the grievances I remember too well.
Save me from the self-pity, the self-seeking,
the fat-heartedness which is true poverty.

Guide me, if I’m willing, (drive me if I’m not),
into the hard ways of sacrifice which are just and loving.
Make me wide-eyed for beauty, and for my neighbor’s need and goodness;
wide-eyed for peace-making,
and for the confronting power with the call to compassion;
wide-hearted for love and for the unloved,
who are the hardest to touch and need it the most.
Dull the envy in me which criticizes and complains life
into a thousand ugly bits.

Keep me honest and tender enough to heal
Tough enough to be healed of my hypocrisies.
Match my appetite for privilege with the stomach for commitment.

Teach me the great cost of paying attention that,
naked to the dazzle of your back as you pass,
I may know I am always on holy ground.

Breathe into me the restlessness and courage
to make something new, something saving, and something true
that I may understand what it is to rejoice.

Author: Ted Loder, Guerrillas of Grace

A Story of Sharing . . .

One morning, the sun got up in a bad mood.
‘I’m really tired of getting up every morning and giving light to the earth, day after day,’ it said. ‘I’m tired of ripening the corn and melting the snow. What does the human race ever do for me in return?’

The sun was still thinking all this over, when the rain arrived. ‘Lady Rain,’ the sun remarked. ‘You water the earth all the time and make the flowers grow. You turn the fields green, and fill up the rivers. What does the human race ever do for you in return?’

Hearing this, the rain furrowed her brow, broke out in a terrible noise and fell headlong on to the earth. And as she fell, she pounded out these words: ‘Listen, Mother Earth. You let humankind work you, rip you open, scratch and scrape you. What does the human race ever do for you in return?’

The earth turned into its own furrows and murmured to the grain of wheat, ‘Hey, little grain of wheat. You let yourself die so that humankind can eat bread. What does the human race ever do for you in return?’

And then the sun stopped shining. The rain stopped falling. The earth stopped holding the grain. Eventually, the sun became bored, because there were no longer any children dancing in its warmth and light.
The rain became saddened at never seeing the smile of the gardener in her garden.
The earth became weary at never hearing the joyful steps of laborers on her back.
And the grain of wheat began to rot in solitude.

Together, they decided to have a meeting with God, the creator, and this is what they said to God: ‘God, everything is dying in this universe that you created to be so good and fruitful. Give back life to the earth, we beg you.’

And God replied, ‘My friends, I have given you everything you need to support life on earth. Life cannot be born except of you and between you. And life will be born anew if each of you shares of its nature with all creation.  For life is born out of a sharing of life. And where cooperation is refused, life cannot be.’
(A French parable)

The Gift of Quieting . . .

God is the Friend of Silence
We Need to Find God,
God Cannot Be Found in Noise and Restlessness.
God Is the Friend of Silence.
See How Nature . . .
Trees, Flowers, Grass
Grow in Silence.
See the Stars, the Moon and Sun . . .
How They Move in Silence.
The More We Receive in Silent Prayer,
The More We Can Give in Our Active Life.
We Need Silence to Be Able to Touch Souls.
The Essential Thing Is Not What We Say,
But What God Says . . .
To us and Through us.

All Our Words Will Be Useless
Unless They Come from Within.
Words Which Do Not Give the Light of Christ . . .
Increase the Darkness.
-Saint Mother Teresa of Calcutta
 

A Blessing . . .

 

Blessed Are You Who Bear the Light

Blessed are you
who bear the light
in unbearable times,
who testify
to its endurance
amid the unendurable,
who bear witness
to its persistence
when everything seems
in shadow
and grief.

Blessed are you
in whom
the light lives,
in whom
the brightness blazes—
your heart
a chapel,
an altar where
in the deepest night
can be seen
the fire that
shines forth in you
in unaccountable faith,
in stubborn hope,
in love that illumines
every broken thing
it finds.

—Jan Richardson: Circle of Grace

https://www.janrichardson.com/

Sunday Reflection . . .

 

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time    Rev. Ferdinand Okorie, CMF Vice President and Academic Dean  Readings: Jer 31:7-9 Ps 126:1-2, 2-3, 4-5, 6 Heb 5:1-6 Mk 10:46-52 In the First Reading, an entire nation is crushed by displacement from their homeland and carried into captivity. The indifference and inhumanity of the perpetrator of their suffering left them feeling less human, insecure and hopeless. This experience of life of the remnant of Israel under the weight of the power of Babylon is not particularly different from that of Bartimaeus in the Gospel Reading who is confined on a street corner, begging for survival because of his physical condition. Both the remnant of Israel and Bartimaeus have lost agency and any kind of freedom to self-determination. Their experiences remind me of the important place a decent and stable habitation has in the wellbeing of every human person. Recently, we have seen the devastation of a whole community by war and internal strife, and the displacement of peoples from their homes by natural disasters. The story of a couple who recently bought a retirement home in western North Carolina and filled with a sense of fulfillment together with the prospect of a happy life in retirement have been wiped away by Helene. They lost everything to hurricane Helene, and they are hanging onto a slender hope of ever rebuilding again all that they have worked for all their lives. Similarly, the growing population of men, women and children living on our streets and at shelters across major cities around the world challenges our sense of human dignity. Just like the remnant of Israel in the First Reading, and Bartimaeus in the Gospel, there are people today around the world who are experiencing displacement and living in subhuman conditions. In Laudato Si’, Pope Francis linked human dignity and nobility with proper and decent shelter. Both the First Reading and the Gospel reveal that there are some human conditions that need God’s intervention to overcome. God will supply whatever is lacking in our efforts to make us whole again in nobility and dignity that we share with God. This is the experience of the remnant of Israel whom God delivered from oppression and inhumanity (Jer 31:7). God gathered them from displacement and brought them back to their homeland (v. 8). The divine message of restoration and consolation specifically named the group that experienced severe and the hasher realties of human suffering, oppression and displacement. The blind and the lame could be carrying the scars of forced and violent displacement (v. 8). Women and children bear the painful scars of social disorder and violence (v. 8). More women and children crossing the southern border of the US are the population easily displaced by war and civil unrest. To the remnant of Israel, God speaks words of consolation and pledged to be their leader. In the Responsorial Psalm they testified about God’s leadership in their lives as they vociferously sang in cultic praise: “the Lord has done great things for us” (Pss 126:3). In the Gospel, after receiving his cure Jesus ordered Bartimaeus to go on his way (Mark 10:52). Literarily, Jesus asked him to go home, no more life on the streets. Jesus sent him home, to a place of belongness, nobility and flourishing. For someone who sits daily by the roadside begging for survival because of his physical condition, the restoration of his sight has brought about the feeling of freedom and personal agency together with the prospect of self-actualization. The behavior of the crowd reveals the extent that microaggression dehumanizes each of us. The crowd rebuked and shouted down at Bartimaeus to be silent on account of their perceived bias that he is undeserving of Jesus’ attention because his social status places him outside the group alongside Jesus on their way from Jericho (v. 48). Just like in the First Reading God consoled the remnant of Israel and acted to end their experience of inhumanity in the hands of the Babylonians (v. 9), likewise Jesus showed compassion toward Bartimaeus, and brought to an end his outcast status as a blind beggar (v. 49). The same crowd who seemingly wanted Bartimaeus to remain in the fringes of society when they tried to denied him access to Jesus became messengers of consolation. They said to Bartimaeus “take courage; get up, Jesus is calling you” (v. 49). Their initial hostility towards him changed to solidarity. The crowd was transformed from their understanding of social class system, and they embraced the value that no one should be displaced, isolated and excluded in any dehumanizing manner. Bartimaeus experienced a change of status, and he followed Jesus on the way, joining in the company of the crowd and Jesus’ disciples leaving Jericho thereby taking his place among the people of God in shared humanity, equality and communion (v. 52). The readings for this Sunday invite us to show compassion towards anyone today displaced and living in a less noble conditions either because of war or natural disaster or as a result of social system of infrastructural neglect just as God and Jesus Christ did for the remnant of Israel and Bartimaeus, respectively. Ultimately, we are invited to lead today in any way possible to bring about nobility and dignified life for everyone and work towards ending the cycle of dehumanizing conditions in our society.   Rev. Ferdinand Okorie, CMF Vice President and Academic Dean CTU - Chicago, IL https://learn.ctu.edu/

The Investment

 

There once lived a rich man who had no greater desire than to do good to those around him, and especially to those who worked for him.

He noticed that one of his workmen, a carpenter, was very poor, and was struggling to feed his family. He could see for himself that the hovel in which the man lived with his wife and children was falling into disrepair, and was no longer a match for the cold and the rain that beat down upon it. He felt great compassion for the carpenter and his family, and he had an idea.

He called the carpenter to him one morning and gave him these instructions:

‘I want you to build me a beautiful house,’ he said. ‘I want you to spare no expense, and to employ only the very best craftsmen for every job that is needed. I have to make a journey, and I will be away for a while, but when I come back, I want you to have the house ready for me.’

The carpenter was delighted to be given this task. Immediately, he set to work, and, knowing that the master would be away, he decided to make a good profit on this enterprise. Instead of hiring the best craftsmen, and using the finest materials, he cut corners wherever he possibly could. The master would never know, and he could keep the difference, and make a lot of money for himself.

And so the house was built. From the outside, it looked beautiful, but as the carpenter well knew, it was not at all sound. The timbers in the roof were weak and badly fitted. The bricks were seconds, which would soon begin to crumble. The roof titles were rejects from the quarry. The building had been carried out by inexperienced workers for low pay.

When the master returned, he came to inspect the house. ‘I have done as you instructed,’ the carpenter told him. ‘I have used the best materials and the finest craftsmen.’

‘I’m delighted to hear it,’ said the master. ‘Here are the keys. The house is yours. It is my gift to you and your family.  May it be a fine home for the rest of your life.’

And in the years that followed, the carpenter could often be heard to mutter, under his breath, ‘If only I had known that the house was meant for me . . .’ 

(Author Unknown)

Prayer of Transformation

 

Spirit of the living God
Bless us with wisdom and insight.
Confirm in us simplicity and humility
As we recognize our place
In the community of beings.

Flood us with perseverance to continue
The pursuit of justice and peace
In who we are and in all we do.

Draw us into your deep well of love
To courageously embrace new ways
Of living your compassion
With one another, all our sisters and brothers,
And all creation.

Transform us in the living waters of your justice,
So that in countering the hate,
Violence and brokenness of our world,
Each of us is an agent of peace and hope. Amen

 (Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace)

A Song of Praise to our Autumn God

O God of Autumn loveliness, 

We thank you for the many colors of our lives.                            

We thank you for the rich hues of red, 

The promising hope of greens,                                         

The depth of the golds, and the well-worn browns.

We praise you for all of the life you have given us, 

The life we celebrate at this harvest                                

Time each year. Like the leaves of the trees, 

We ourselves have been blown around,                                        

Toasted in the sun, and whipped by rain and storms. 

Yet, we stand as a testament to life well lived.

Your trees, O God, remind us of our letting go, 

Our need to trust transformation                                      

So that new life can come. 

Yet, like them, we resist the tearing, wrenching, pulling, and tugging.

We cling earnestly to our color and our home!

Release us, God of the Autumn, and free us 

so that the wind of your Spirit can fling us

To the places we most need to go.  

Bury us deep in places where we will find warmth.   

Help us to find ourselves grounded in You.

As we look around in this harvest time, 

We celebrate the bounty all around us 

And deep within us.   

May we be forever grateful for the plentitude!   

May we be forever generous with all that is ours.  

May we be forever willing to give of ourselves!

And as we journey towards this winter time

Help us to always carry the spirit of springtime 

Deep within us as a sign of hope!   

We believe, O God of Transformation, 

That all of life is your belief and hope in us!   

Ready our hearts, steady our hearts

 That we can respond fully in faith and love!

(Author Unknown)

October 27, 2024: Courtney Esteves Preaches for the 30th Sunday in Ordin...

A Prayer for Leadership

 

  

Give us, O God,
leaders whose hearts are large enough 
to match the breadth of our own souls 
and give us souls strong enough
to follow leaders of vision and wisdom.

In seeking a leader, let us seek 
more than development for ourselves—
though development we hope for—
more than security for our own land—
though security we need—
more than satisfaction for our wants—
though many things we desire.

We beg you, Great God,
give us the vision as a people
to know where global leadership truly lies, 
to pursue it diligently,
to require it to protect human rights 
for everyone everywhere.
 

    Author: Joan Chittister

 

October 20, 2024: Rebecca Malone preaches for the 29th Sunday in Ordinar...

Reflections for Oct. 20 . . .

 

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time – October 20, 2024

 

Educational Resources from Catholic Theological Union Readings: Is 53:10-11 Ps 33:4-5, 18-19, 20, 22 Heb 4:14-16 Mk 10:35-45 or 10:42-45   The readings this week are quite foreboding and maybe even a little confusing. We start the first reading with “The Lord was pleased to crush him in infirmity.” Not the best way to begin reflecting on our relationship with God. The first reading portrays the concept of a “scape goat” where the transgressions of a community would be burned on a sacrificial animal and then it would be released into the dessert. This ritual would allow the community to begin again in their relationship with each other and their God. This image doesn’t really have easy parallels to our contextual ways of relating today. But the image in the Gospel of James and John jockeying for power does feel at least a little more familiar. The assumption that proximity to power results in us being powerful is subverted by Jesus’ answer that power needs to be given away; and if we wish to claim it without understanding it, we have missed his message entirely. In either case, both the first reading and the Gospel offer us a confusing mix of sacrifice and servitude. These are hard readings to unpack. What makes them even harder is that we are in the month of October, which is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. Messages like the ones mentioned above and even the one that claims whoever wishes to be greatest shall be servant of all are often distorted in the minds of both perpetrators and victims of domestic violence. People who experience such violence read these messages of our church that speak of giving our lives away or being a suffering servant as a mandate for their continued suffering. They wrongly think their oppression is a way of being tested and that forgiveness is expected of them. Domestic violence, like other types of violence, is the abuse of power in a way that controls and imitates another person. However, in domestic violence the person wielding the power is an intimate partner, one who has professed their love. The confusing mix of someone who loves also abusing can get messed up in our images of a God who sends his only son to be crucified for our sins. The task for us as preachers, ministers and people of God is to be very clear that there is a difference between Jesus who freely gives his life and someone who has no choice in the suffering they experience. There is a difference between suffering we might endure as a consequence of our own sin and suffering that is inflicted on someone through the sinful behavior of another. When we understand that domestic violence is an abuse of power, then we can understand the argument Jesus is trying to express to James and John. I see him saying, “Recognize the power you have and place it in service of the people of God.” We cannot ask those who have less power to lead the way in service or forgiveness. It must begin with those who have the highest proximity to power; they must be the ones asked to subvert their power into service or to relinquish their power to begin the process of forgiveness. Jesus invites each of us to consider not only how we want to be in relationship with Him, but also how we want to relate to those we love, those in our community, those in our world. Jesus’ ministry is not summed up solely in his crucifixion. His ministry showcased so many ways of being in loving relationship – he shared meals with outcasts, claimed even children had a right to proximity to him; he invited people to reconsider what they valued and how they gave of themselves to one another. His invitations to subvert our understanding of power invites us to stand with those who have been oppressed, to stand especially this month with those who have experienced domestic violence. When we help to clarify the message of love, when we help to balance the experiences of power and forgiveness, when we build relationships built on trust and hope, then we have prepared ourselves to accompany Jesus through his cross to the resurrection. By Christina R. Zaker, D.Min. Director of Field Education Assistant Professor of Pastoral Ministry Catholic Theological Union/Chicago

 

Educational Resources from Catholic Theological Union

Earth Teach Me to Remember . . .

Earth teach me stillness 
as the grasses are stilled with light. 
Earth teach me suffering 
as old stones suffer with memory. 
Earth teach me humility 
as blossoms are humble with beginning. 
Earth Teach me caring 
as the mother who secures her young. 
Earth teach me courage 
as the tree which stands alone. 
Earth teach me limitation 
as the ant which crawls on the ground. 
Earth teach me freedom 
as the eagle which soars in the sky. 
Earth teach me resignation 
as the leaves which die in the fall. 
Earth teach me regeneration 
as the seed which rises in the spring. 
Earth teach me to forget myself 
as melted snow forgets its life. 
Earth teach me to remember kindness 
as dry fields weep in the rain. 
Ute, North American

His name is John . . .Memorial of Pope John XXIII

 

 

October 11, Memorial Feast of Pope John XXIII

Not long after being elected to the papacy, Pope John took up residence in the papal apartments. These private apartments are hidden well inside Vatican City. John felt a little like a prisoner there, unable to come and go as he pleased and, more important to him, unable to invite friends to daily meals. It had become a custom for the pope to dine alone.

Pope John confided to his secretary, Monsignor Loris Capovilla, that he was unable to sleep through the night anymore. He felt lonely, and this kept him awake. He needed more conversation and more social stimulation to help him lose this feeling of being deserted . . .

Pope John simply could not accustom himself to the habit of eating all by himself, a practice which Pius XII had always maintained. In a very short time Capovilla was invited to join him at the table. The Pope’s appetite improved immediately. Shortly afterward he invited the cardinals of the Curia to be his table companions, one after the other. Little by little, bishops from all over the world, when they made their ad limina visits to Rome, were invited to join him for lunch or dinner. (Klinger, p. 29)

 

+  +  +

Once a distinguished luncheon companion ventured to remind John of the solitary eating habits of Pius XII. “Well and good,” John replied. “I value tradition and I grant that my predecessors did, too.  I must confess, however, that I have never found any place in the Bible which suggests that the Pope should eat alone." (Klinger, p. 29)
(Above selections from: Praying with Pope John XXIII by Bill Huebsch)

Quotes from Pope John XXIII

•  “It often happens that I wake up at night and begin to think about a serious problem and decide I must tell the Pope about it. Then I wake up completely and remember that I am the Pope.”
•  “Italians come to ruin most generally in three ways, women, gambling, and farming. My family chose the slowest one.”
• “Anybody can be Pope; the proof of this is that I have become one.”
•  “The feelings of my smallness and my nothingness always kept me good company.”
•  “To have accepted with simplicity the honor and the burden of the pontificate, with the joy of being able to say that I did nothing to obtain it, absolutely nothing; indeed I was most careful and conscientious to avoid anything that might direct attention to myself. As the voting in Conclave wavered to and fro, I rejoiced when I saw the chances of my being elected diminishing and the likelihood of others, in my opinion truly most worthy and venerable persons, being chosen.”
•  "See everything, overlook a great deal, correct a little.”
•  “Here I am at the end of the road and at the top of the heap.”
•  ”Prayer is the raising of the mind to God.
  We must always remember this.
  The actual words matter less.”
•  “Consult not your fears but your hopes and your dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what it is still possible for you to do.”

Teresa ~ A Mega~Flower!

 

On October 15, the feast of St. Teresa of Avila will be observed in certain Catholic-Christian and Carmelite circles.  As Theresa of Lisieux referred to herself as the “little flower of Jesus," I suppose Teresa of Avila could be considered the “Big Flower” or “Mega-Flower” of Jesus!   She was a giant at the time she lived in the 16th century and her presence and force is still with us today!

Teresa of Avila (1515-1582) “is one of the most beloved spiritual figures in history . . . she is known around the world as a great mystic, saint, reformer” and the first woman to be named Doctor of the Church!!  After a special vision, she was moved to reform the Carmelite order. She founded the community known as the Discalced (shoeless) Carmelites in Avila.  “The sisters wore hemp sandals, but their name referred to the strict poverty that was a feature of Teresa’s reform.”

She was the foundress of 17 Carmel convents, the author of four books, and considered one of the outstanding religious teachers of Christian prayer.  She was known to have a charismatic personality, along with wisdom and courage that was deeply rooted in a special love relationship with God.

Throughout her life, she suffered from migraine headaches, and other physical ailments, and experienced dryness in prayer for much of her life. However, it is also written that Teresa had the privilege of hearing God speak to her. She also began to see visions and Jesuit and Dominican priests came to see if this was true. They were convinced and declared that the visions were holy and authentic. 

In accounts of her life, it is said that when she would move into a prayerful ecstasy, there were always a couple of sisters that were appointed to hold onto the hem of her habit so that as she was lifted up in prayerful rapture, she wouldn't injure herself.

There also is the great story told of her on her travels where she encountered all the hazards of donkey carts which was one of the means of transportation of her time.  “One time her cart overturned, throwing her into a muddy river.  When she complained to God about this ordeal, she heard a voice from within her say, ‘This is how I treat my friends.’ “Yes, my Lord,” she answered, “and that is why you have so few of them.”

Prayers of Teresa:

Christ Has No Body
Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
+  + +
May today there be peace within.  May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.  May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.  May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.  May you be content knowing you are a child of God.  Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise, and love.  It is there for each and every one of us.
+ + +
Let nothing disturb you,
Let nothing frighten you,
All things are passing away:
God never changes.
Patience obtains all things
Whoever has God lacks nothing;
God alone suffices.