Thursday, May 30, 2024
A Welcoming Story . . .
(Source Unknown)
Long ago, in a far-away town, an old woman used to sit at the city gates, watching the travelers passing through, and sometimes engaging them in conversation.
One night, when it was growing dark, a traveler came along; weary from a hard day’s walk. ‘Excuse me,’ he said to the old woman, ‘but I am looking for a place to rest, and I wonder, can you tell me what the people are like in this town?’
The woman smiled, and in reply she asked him a question of her own. ‘You have had a long journey,’ she commented, ‘and you must be feeling weary. Where do you come from?’
A little surprised by her question, the traveler told her the name of his home town. ‘Mychester,’ he said.
The woman was interested. ‘Oh,’ she smiled, ‘and what are the people like in Mychester?’
‘Oh,’ replied the traveler, ‘you wouldn’t believe how awful people are in Mychester. They don’t care if you are hungry and thirsty. They wouldn’t even pass the time of day with you. And if you ask for help they turn away, or deliberately send you the wrong way. They are rude and unfriendly in the extreme.’
‘My word,’ replied the old woman. ‘Well, I’m afraid I have bad news for you. The people here in this town are very much like the people in Mychester. I don’t think you would like them very much.’
The traveler was disappointed. ‘Oh well,” he sighed. ‘I guess I’ll move on then.’
A short time passed, and soon another traveler arrived at the city gates. He saw the old woman sitting there, smiled and approached her. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, ‘but I am looking for a place to rest, and I wonder, can you tell me what the people are like in this town?’
The woman smiled back at him, and again she asked him a question of her own. ‘You have had a long journey,’ she commented, ‘and you must be feeling weary. Where do you come from?’
‘I come from Mychester,’ he told her.
‘And what are the people like in Mychester?’ the woman continued.
‘Oh, they are so kind,’ the traveler replied. ‘I like them a lot. They are always friendly, ready to help each other and generous to a fault.’
‘Well’ the woman told him, ‘I think you will find a warm welcome here in this city. The people here are very much like the people in Mychester.’
May 31 ~ Feast of the Visitation!
A wise woman who was traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream.The next day she met another traveler who was hungry, and the wise woman opened her bag to share her food. The hungry traveler saw the precious stone and asked the woman to give it to him. She did so without any hesitation.
The traveler left rejoicing in his good fortune. He knew the stone was worth enough to give him security for a full lifetime. But, a few days later, he came back to return the stone to the wise woman. I've been thinking,” he said. “I know how valuable this stone is, but I give it back in the hope that you can give me something even more precious. Give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me the stone.”
We gather to celebrate all that Mary had within her that enabled her to trust in Mystery, to walk in the holy darkness of questions, to ponder her experiences in the light of faith, to hope in God’s love amidst the joys and sorrows, losses and findings and the deaths and risings she encountered, and to live with courage as she responded moment by moment to the challenges and surprises that resulted from her “Yes, let it be done” –
Tissot ~ The Visitation |
Thursday, May 23, 2024
Wednesday, May 22, 2024
A Day of Remembering . . .
Hear Our Prayer This Day
In the quiet sanctuaries of our own hearts,
let each of us name and call on the One whose power over us
is great and gentle, firm and forgiving, holy and healing ...
You who created us,
who sustain us,
who call us to live in peace,
hear our prayer this day.
Hear our prayer for all who have died,
whose hearts and hopes are known to you alone ...
Hear our prayer for those who put the welfare of others
ahead of their own
and give us hearts as generous as theirs ...
Hear our prayer for those who gave their lives
in the service of others,
and accept the gift of their sacrifice ...
Help us to shape and make a world
where we will lay down the arms of war
and turn our swords into ploughshares
for a harvest of justice and peace ...
Comfort those who grieve the loss of their loved ones
and let your healing be the hope in our hearts...
Hear our prayer this day
and in your mercy answer us
in the name of all that is holy.
The peace of God be with you.
- Austin Fleming
The Gift of Hope . . .
O loving God,
we thank you for bringing us the rivers and streams of this world.
May the rivers we know be an image of the stream
that you want to flow within each one of us.
Teach us now, take away all fear,
dare to let us believe that we could really be a small part
of a reconstructed society, that we could build again.
Take away our cynicism.
Take away our lack of hope.
Take away our own anger and judgments.
We thank you for the faith and the desire that is in our hearts.
You have planted it there. Now help us to preserve it,
protect it and increase it.
We long for vision, God.
We need vision and we know we will perish without it.
Help us open each new day to a new meaning,
to a new hope, to a deeper desiring.
Show us your face, loving God, and we will be satisfied.
We ask for all this in Jesus’ name.
AMEN.
(Richard Rohr, ofm)
Wednesday, May 15, 2024
Becoming People of the Flame!
It
is said that at one time Rabbi Lot went to see Rabbi Joseph and said, “Rabbi,
as much as I am able, I practice a small rule of life, all the little fasts,
some prayer and meditation, and remain quiet, and as much as possible, I keep
my thoughts clean. What else should I
do?” Then the old Rabbi Joseph stood up
and stretched out his hands toward heaven, and his fingers became like the
torches of flame. And he said, “Why not
be turned into fire?” (From
the Desert Fathers and Mothers)
Today we celebrate the feast of the Spirit
and God’s unrelenting, never-ending, eternal invitation to us, much like that
to the early disciples, to become People of the Flame! For they became on fire with the mission of
Jesus and set the world ablaze with their message of God’s love by their bold
witness of life! “These followers of Jesus were given the power promised by
Jesus to further the reign of God.”
We have today in the first reading, the story
of God’s astonishing revelation of the Spirit in which Luke gets our attention
through the images of a sudden, cosmic, divine event abounding with a strong
driving wind and flames of fire that rest upon all those gathered in the upper
room. For Luke, Pentecost happens sometime
after the Easter appearances of Jesus and his ascension.
It is on the Jewish
feast of Pentecost that the Spirit descends upon the disciples in a dramatic,
mysterious, and powerful way. They experience a strong wind blowing through the
house, are touched by flames of fire, and begin to speak in other languages.
There is a radical transformation in the disciples . . . from fearful,
unbelieving people, to courageous and bold women and men with a mission.
Throughout the rest
of the Chapters in Acts, we will hear stories of their conversion of heart
again and again. They will preach about the love of God, uniting them in mind
and heart to other Jews, Arabs, Cretans, Gentiles, and those beyond the borders
and boundaries of their limitations; and all will understand. This is the
mission of God’s Spirit . . . to unite and bring together people of every
nation and language. Now the Spirit's
language unites the hearts and minds of the believing community. It is not bound by any limitations. The
fringes of faith are flung open, unrestricted by language, culture, or
ethnicity. Every cultural expression is able to find the divine. No one who
loves God can be excluded; for the gifts of the Spirit are diverse, and we
share in the mystery of Pentecost when we celebrate each contribution with
gladness and gratitude.
John, in our Gospel, brings us back to Easter
night, when the frightened disciples are huddled in the upper room; the risen
Jesus comes to them through locked doors and speaks the language of the Spirit
to them. He greets them . . . breathes
the breath of God upon them and blesses them with peace, comfort, and
forgiveness. He does not hold them captive with such words as, “Where were you
when I needed you most”? Instead, Jesus
offers them healing and peace in the midst of their fear and turmoil from the post-traumatic
stress of the past days in Jerusalem. Jesus,
knowing their doubts and insecurity, reveals to them the wounds in his hands
and side. There can be no doubt: it is
the crucified Jesus himself, risen from the dead.
As their
fear changes to an unspeakable joy, Jesus again wishes them peace and the life
of his Spirit, saying: “Receive the Holy Spirit.” He goes
on to say, “Those whose sins you forgive are forgiven…” This is no mere authority of the law in which
people are declared free of guilt. It is
much more than that.
The disciples are being given the
power to bring people back to God, to reconcile those who have become separated
from their God, and to discern which people are not yet ready for
reconciliation. And, then he declares their mission, the same as his own: continue
doing what he did – the celebration and expansion of God’s reign.
Pentecost
is the feast that calls us all to be willing and courageous to become people
of the flame. We all are people of the Spirit filled with gifts
that our world deeply and urgently needs..
the gift
of knowledge and understanding for a world in search of truth and
insight,
the gift
of reverence and healing for a world torn apart by chaos, suffering,
and senseless violence
the gift
of wisdom for a world deeply desiring purpose and meaning,
the gift
of right judgment in a world of digital distractions
and the
gift of discernment for a world profoundly in need of direction and inspiration.
So, let us ponder the closing thoughts, as
we reflect on our call to become people
of the flame:
“To live
a life of the Spirit takes all the life we have. To live a life of the Spirit
takes the heart of a hermit, the soul of a mountain climber, the eyes of a
lover, the hands of a healer, and the mind of a rabbi.
It requires total immersion in the life of Christ Jesus and complete concentration on the meaning of the Gospel today.”
(Adapted/Joan Chittister)
So what else should we do?
Why not be turned into fire?
Spirit Prayer . . .
Come, Holy Spirit ~
Replace
the tension within me with a holy relaxation,
Replace
the turbulence within me with a sacred calm,
Replace
the anxiety within me with a quiet confidence,
Replace
the fear within me with a strong faith,
Replace
the bitterness within me with the sweetness of grace,
Replace
the darkness within me with a gentle light,
Replace
the coldness within me with a loving warmth,
Replace
the night within me with Your day,
Replace
the winter within me with Your spring,
Straighten
my crookedness, fill my emptiness,
Dull
the edge of my pride, sharpen the edge of my humility,
Light
the fires of my love, quench within me the flames of envy,
Let
me see myself as You see me, that I may see You as You have promised ~
And
be fortunate according to Your word, “Blessed are the pure of heart,
for
they shall see God.”
(Anonymous)
Thursday, May 9, 2024
A Mother's Day Tribute . . .
When God created mothers, it was well into overtime on the sixth day. An angel dropped by and commented, ‘God, you are taking your time over this creature!’
God replied, ‘You should see the special requirements in the specification! She has to be easy to maintain, but not made of plastic or have any artificial components. She has one hundred and sixty movable parts, and nerves of steel, with a lap big enough for ten children to sit on it at once, but she herself has to be able to fit into a kiddies’ chair. She has to have a back that can carry everything that is loaded onto it. She has to be able to mend everything, from a grazed knee to a broken heart. And she’s supposed to have six pairs of hands’
The angel shook her head. ‘Six pairs of hands? No way!’ ‘The hands are easy,’ God said. ‘But I’m still working on the three pairs of eyes that she needs.’ ‘Is this the standard model?’ the angel asked.
God nodded: ‘Oh, yes. One pair to look through closed doors, while she asks, “What are you doing?” even though she already knows the answer. A second pair at the back of her head, to see what she’s not meant to see, but needs to know about. And, of course, the pair at the front that can look at her child, let him know that he is misbehaving and had better change his ways, while at the same time letting him see how much she loves and understands him.’
‘I think you should go to bed now, God, and get some sleep,’ said the angel. ‘I can’t do that,’ said God. ‘I’m almost there. I have nearly created a being who heals herself when she’s ill, who can delight thirty children with one little birthday cake, who can persuade a three-year-old to use his feet to walk and not to kick.’
The angel walked slowly around the prototype Mother. ‘It’s too soft,’ she said. ‘But tough,’ God retorted. ‘You wouldn't believe the wear and tear this Mother will tolerate.’
‘Can she think?’ asked the angel. ‘Not only think, but reach wise judgments and essential compromises,’ said God. ‘And she can do more than that. She can forget!’
Finally, the angel ran her finger across the model’s cheek. ‘There’s a leak,’ she said. ‘I warned you that you were trying to get too much into her.’
‘That’s not a leak,’ said God. ‘That’s a tear.’ ‘What’s that for?’ asked the angel. ‘It flows whenever she feels joy or grief, disappointment or pride, pain or loneliness, or the depths of love.’
‘You’re a genius,’ said the angel. God looked again at this work of art, with pleasure and pride. ‘The tear,’ God said, ‘is her overflow valve.’
Too Muching . . .
Homeless Jesus http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homeless_Jesus |
too much violence, too much fear; too much of demands and problems;
too much of broken dreams and broken lives; too much of war and slums and dying;
too much of greed and squishy fatness and the sounds of people
devouring each other and the earth; too much of stale routines and quarrels,
unpaid bills and dead ends; too much of words lobbed in to explode
and leaving shredded hearts and lacerated souls; too much of turned-away backs
and yellow silence, red rage and bitter taste of ashes in my mouth.
Sometimes the very air seems scorched by threats and rejection and decay
until there is nothing but to inhale pain and exhale confusion.
Too much of darkness, God,
Too much of cruelty and selfishness and indifference. . .
Too much, God,
Too much, too bloody, bruising, brain-washing much.
Or is it too little,
too little of compassion,
too little of courage, of daring, of persistence, of sacrifice;
too little of music and laughter and celebration?
O God,
Make of me some nourishment
For these starved times,
Some food for my sisters and brothers, who are hungry for gladness and hope,
That, being bread for them, I may also be fed and be full.
(From Guerrillas of Grace by Ted Loder)
A Blessing for Ascension Day
Stay: A Blessing for Ascension Day by Jan Richardson
I know how your mind
rushes ahead
trying to fathom
what could follow this.
What will you do,
where will you go,
how will you live?
You will want
to outrun the grief.
You will want
to keep turning toward
the horizon,
watching for what was lost
to come back,
to return to you
and never leave again.
For now
hear me when I say
all you need to do
is to still yourself
is to turn toward one another
is to stay.
Wait
and see what comes
to fill
the gaping hole
in your chest.
Wait with your hands open
to receive what could never come
except to what is empty
and hollow.
You cannot know it now,
cannot even imagine
what lies ahead,
but I tell you
the day is coming
when breath will
fill your lungs
as it never has before
and with your own ears
you will hear words
coming to you new
and startling.
You will dream dreams
and you will see the world
ablaze with blessing.
Wait for it.
Still yourself.
Stay.
—Jan Richardson
http://www.janrichardson.com/index.htmlichardson.com
janrichardson.com
Ascension Day - an "Uplifting Feast"!
https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/051224-Ascension.cfm
The story is told that in Valladolid, Spain, where Christopher Columbus died in 1506, stands a monument commemorating the great discoverer. Perhaps the most interesting feature of the memorial is a statue of a lion destroying one of the Latin words that had been part of Spain’s motto for centuries.
Before Columbus made his voyages, the Spaniards thought they had reached the outer limits of earth. Thus their motto was ‘Ne Plus Ultra,’ which means, ‘No More Beyond.’ The word being torn away by the lion is ‘Ne’ or ‘No’ thus it reads ‘Plus Ultra.’ Columbus had proven that there was indeed ‘more beyond.’
These sacred events are closely interlocked as one reality. As the resurrection proclaims that Jesus is alive, the Ascension asserts that Jesus has entered into glory. In this celebration of the Ascension, we are invited to let go of our linear thinking and stand in the space of accepting and embracing Mystery.
Jesus did not ride up into the sky in Shepherd 1. For we know that heaven is not a place but a relationship with God – Jesus is totally and forever reunited with God. Jesus’ death, resurrection, ascension and the coming of the Spirit form a ‘seamless garment’ so to speak, one single movement - the passing of Jesus through death to life!
On the feast of the Ascension, we remember, we celebrate, and we believe - the more beyond. The more beyond pain and suffering; the more beyond doubt and death; the more beyond grieving and loss.
We are invited into embracing the mystery which Jesus reveals is an intimate forever, eternal, everlasting, never ending, timeless, priceless, unconditional love relationship with our God in which Jesus will be with us until the end of the age.
Jesus promised that we would never be left alone. The Ascension of Jesus was not the end of his presence with us, but a new way of being intimately present. As St. Augustine writes, “You ascended before our eyes, and we turned back grieving, only to find you in our hearts.”
The four gospels do not end with Jesus’ absence, but with his continuing presence. Mark writes that Jesus was taken up into heaven and then adds “the disciples went forth and preached everywhere while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the message with signs.” In John, Jesus is saying to Peter and to us, “Follow me.” In Matthew, he does not mention the Ascension. His Gospel ends with Jesus saying, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” And in today’s Gospel, Luke ends with Jesus ascending into heaven in order to send the promise of the Spirit.
And Jesus continues his presence with us in Eucharist, in the Scriptures, in our assembly here, and in our hearts. Through us and in all believers of this Mystery, Jesus continues to heal and to comfort, to forgive and to include.
It is in all hearts of believers of this Mystery, that beyond this space of bread and wine, Word and ritual that his love and compassion continues to be found. We are not to stand and stare up at the clouds but to risk entering into the uncertainties of life, and to truly see God’s presence in each other, in the eyes of the poor, the marginalized, and in the needs and hearts of the "last, the least and the lost."
Ascension tells us that if we’re looking for Jesus, we need a new way of seeing, a new way of following, for the Paschal Mystery belongs to each of us. "Its footsteps are traced in our lives as we negotiate the physical, psychological, and spiritual challenges inherent in our human journey."
- May we have the courage to be witnesses of Jesus’ message for we have been given a Spirit of wisdom and knowledge;
- May we embrace the mystery of this feast so that the eyes of our hearts will be enlightened and know the surpassing greatness of God’s power for all who believe.
- And finally, may we truly and intimately know the hope that belongs to God’s call now and into the more beyond!
Thursday, May 2, 2024
Hidden In the Clay . . .
Clay Balls
Author/Source Unknown
A man was exploring caves by the seashore. In one of the caves he found a canvas bag with a bunch of hardened clay balls. It was like someone had rolled clay balls and left them out in the sun to bake. They didn't look like much, but they intrigued the man so he took the bag out of the cave with him.
As he strolled along the beach, he would throw the clay balls one at a time out into the ocean as far as he could. He thought little about it until he dropped one of the balls and it cracked open on a rock. Inside was a beautiful, precious stone.
Excited the man started breaking open the remaining clay balls. Each contained a similar treasure.
He found thousands of dollars worth of jewels in the 20 or so clay balls he had left. Then it struck him. He had been on the beach a long time. He had thrown maybe 50 or 60 of the clay balls with their hidden treasure into the ocean waves. Instead of thousands of dollars in treasure, he could have taken home tens of thousands, but he just threw it away.
Author's reflections:
It's like that with people. We look at someone, maybe even ourselves, and we see the external clay vessel. It doesn't look like much from the outside. It isn't always beautiful or sparkling so we discount it. We see that person as less important than someone more beautiful or stylish or well known or wealthy. But we have not taken the time to find the treasure hidden inside that person by God.
There is a treasure in each and every one of us. If we take the time to get to know that person, and if we ask God to show us that person the way God sees them, then the clay begins to peel away and the brilliant gem begins to shine forth.
May we not come to the end of our lives and find out that we have thrown away a fortune in friendships because the gems were hidden in bits of clay.
May we see the people in our world as God sees them.
Timing is Everything . . .
A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection from Picasso to Raphael. When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.
About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands. He said, “Sir, you don’t know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart, and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art.” The young man held out his package. “I know this isn’t much. I’m not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.”
The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture. “Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It’s a gift.”
The father died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. “We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?” There was silence. Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, “We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one.”
But the auctioneer persisted. “Will someone bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?” Another voice shouted angrily, “We didn’t come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids!” But still the auctioneer continued, “The son! The son! Who’ll take the son?”
Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. “I’ll give $10 for the painting.” Being a poor man, it was all he could afford. “We have $10, who will bid $20?” “Give it to him for $10. Let’s see the masters.” “$10 is the bid, won’t someone bid $20?” The crowd was becoming angry. They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections. The auctioneer pounded the gavel. “Going once, twice, SOLD FOR $10!”
A man sitting on the second row shouted, “Now, let’s get on with the collection!” The auctioneer laid down his gavel. “I’m sorry, the auction is over.” “What about the paintings?” “I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings. The man who took the son gets everything!”
(Author Unknown)
Be ready for the God of surprises . . .
Perfect timing . . .
This
Time
To
everything a season, a time for every purpose under heaven
and
yet this time out of all other times is special
A
moment of grace,
A
Kairos time,
A
time for urgency when there is no time
A
window opened on eternity where all is possible
For
those with eyes to see and ears to hear and hearts to understand
A
time to risk all that has not been risked before
so
that we might flow with all that God intends.
A
time to seize because it will not come again.
A
time to place our lives where words have been.
A
time for bridges to be built and others crossed, and others burned,
because
there is no going back.
A
time to leave the past behind because the present, this precious “now,”
is
Holy Ground and from it the future beckons.
To
leave the past, and not to do so lightly.
To take it out and dare to look and name what has been done and cannot be undone.
To
allow the pain to surface.
To
give voice to silent wounding, that, hearing, and being heard,
we
might with due and holy reverence allow the dying to take place,
and,
picking up the pieces that give life, to travel on;
our
burden now a cleansed and sanctified inheritance;
one
that puts into our step a spring and into our hearts
a
flame of hope that cannot be extinguished.
This
time so fragile and so priceless, gift of God to you and me
to
grasp and to embrace, to give it all we’ve got;
and,
in the giving and receiving, to learn to celebrate the Presence of the One who
in mercy and grace has given one more time.
(Adapted)
~Reverend Ruth Patterson
Ruth Patterson, A Farther
Shore (Dublin: Veritas Publications, 2000), pp. 116-119.