Saints Day and beyond . . .

Photo by: Doris Klein, CSA

During World War II a German widow hid Jewish refugees in her home.       
As her friends discovered the situation, they became extremely alarmed.
“You are risking your own well-being,” they told her.
I know that,” she said.
“Then why,” they demanded, “do you persist in this foolishness?”
Her answer was stark and to the point.
“I am doing it,” she said, “because the time is now and I am here.”                  (Source Unknown)

Today we celebrate the feast of all Saints - those known and unknown women and men, and even children - who are called holy because their lives manifested the very holiness of God.  And we do this today because the time is now and we are here. These women and men are those who form “the great multitude of which no one can count, from every nation, race, people and tongue.”

In the early Christian Church the first saints were martyrs, virgins, hermits and monks who were declared holy by popular acclaim.  Since the 16th century, when the modern saint-making process began, canonization was in the control of the popes and became a judicial process complete with evidence and cross-examination.

The person had to pass through a scrutiny of investigations and many proofs of miracles. Once proven, then an elaborate ceremony of canonization occurred.  A feast day assigned, a Church and shrines were dedicated to the saint.

The person would be declared patron saint of a country, a diocese or other religious institutions.  Statues and images would be struck, along with public prayers, relics venerated and possibly a Mass would be composed in the Saint’s honor.

In the times from these early centuries until now, those declared saints have contributed to God’s reign as artists, authors, founders/foundresses of religious orders, monks, martyrs, missionaries and mystics, bishops, popes, poets, peasants, and prophets, women and men religious, kings, queens, historians, and hermits, wives, husbands, reformers, scientists, theologians, teachers, virgins, children, widows, carpenters, shepherdesses and a thousand more paths in which these holy ones gave themselves as self gift.

They lived in times of turmoil and times of tranquility; they endured persecutions, wars, church councils, crusades, The Inquisition, the Protestant Reformation, the French Revolution, the Black Death, enemy occupation of their countries, and struggled with unjust government, church, and social systems.

We may tend today to think of Saints as holy and pious people, sometimes irrelevant to our experience and often shown in pictures with halos above their heads with ecstatic gazes or surrounded by angels or holding a symbol particular to their story.

But today – saints are men and women like us who live ordinary lives and struggle with the ordinary and extraordinary problems of life.  What makes them saints is their clear and unwavering focus on God and God’s people.  And so we may ask, who are the holy ones for us today?  And what does holiness look like in our time and place?
Are we not all called to holiness by our very Baptism?
The time is now and we are here.

It can be said that holiness is conditioned by socio-cultural and religious factors. In the early centuries, the martyr paradigm certainly was a manifestation of God’s holiness.  As one author remarks:  "For centuries the church has presented the human community with role models of greatness. We call them saints when what we really often mean to say is 'icon,' 'star,' 'hero,' ones so possessed by an internal vision of divine goodness that they give us a glimpse of the face of God in the center of the human. They give us a taste of the possibilities of greatness in  ourselves."- Joan D. Chittister in A Passion for Life

And so in our age, when there is renewed awareness of the suffering of innocent people through human trafficking, or through the exploitation of third world countries, or through the tragic systematic death of peoples by means of torture, famine, and genocide, or by results of violent rhetoric - then we can be sure that the saints will be those who lives are spent working tirelessly to alleviate the suffering.
Because the time is now and they are here.

In an age when Christians are often confronted to choose between life and death for the sake of the Gospel, the saints will boldly choose life through the cost of death.  Because the time is now and they are here.

In an age when there is a clash between human dignity of all and the restrictive power of a few over all, the saints will name the injustice and call it social sin. Because the time is now and they are here.

In an age when there is an ecclesial restriction of gifts of the Spirit to some groups but not to others, the saints will witness to the freedom of the Spirit to give gifts as the Spirit chooses, regardless of restrictive laws about use of the gifts. Because the time is now and they are here.

In an  age when discrimination, elitism, and oppression operate in society, in governments and in our Churches, the saints will again proclaim the reign of God and be "voice and heart, call and sign of the God whose design for this world is justice and mercy for all." (JD)  Because the time is now and they are here.

Because the nature of sainthood is an incarnational reality, the shape and form of holiness may change from age to age and culture to culture.  But the Spirit of the Holy will continue to call people like all of us who are here and those beyond our faith community –
to witness to the freedom of the Spirit;
to run, to risk, and wonder at our daring;
to boldly choose life through the cost of death; to confront the oppressors and marvel at our courage; and work tirelessly for the people of God as we proclaim God’s reign.

For it is God’s caring we witness and
God’s love we share because the time is now and we are here.

Previously posted

A Story to Massage Our Spirits . . .

The Forever Tree

Once, a long, long time ago, a little tree was growing in the forest. As the little tree grew taller and stronger, she began to notice the wide expanse of sky stretching far above her head. She noticed the white clouds scudding across the sky, as if on some great journey.  She watched the birds wheeling overhead. The skies, the clouds, the birds in flight – they all seemed to speak of a land of forever.  The more she grew, the more she noticed these forever things, and the more she longed to live forever herself.  

One day, the forester happened to pass close by the little tree. He was a kindly old man, and he sensed that the little tree was not entirely happy. ‘What’s the matter, little tree?’ he asked. ‘What troubles your soul?’ The little tree hesitated, and then told the forester about the deep desire in the core of her being: ‘I would so much like to live forever.’ ‘Perhaps you shall,’ replied the forester. ‘Perhaps you shall.’

Some time passed, and once again the forester passed close by the little tree, now grown tall and strong.  ‘Do you still want to live forever?’ he asked the tree. ‘Oh, I do, I do,’ the tree replied fervently. ‘I think I can help, but first you must give me your permission to cut you down.’ The tree was aghast: ‘I wanted to live forever.  And now you say you are going to kill me?’ ‘I know,’ said the forester. ‘It sounds crazy.  But if you can trust me, I promise you that your deepest desire will be fulfilled.’

After much hard thought, the tree gave her consent. The forester came with his sharp-bladed axe.  The tree was felled. The sap of life streamed away and was lost in the forest floor. The tender wood was sliced into strips. The strips were planed and shaped and smothered in a suffocating layer of varnish. The tree screamed silently in her anguish, but there was no way back.  She surrendered herself to the hands of the violin-maker, all dreams of foreverness vanished in a haze of pain.

For many years, the violin lay idle. Sometimes, she remembered better days, when she was growing in the woods. What a bad bargain it had been, surrendering herself to the forester’s axe.  How could she have been so naive as to believe that this would enable her to live forever?
But the day came – the right and perfect moment – when the violin was gently lifted from her case and caressed once more by loving hands.  She held her breath in disbelief.  She quivered, as the bow tenderly crossed her breast. And the quivering turned into a pure sound that reminded her of how the wind had once rustled through her leaves, how the clouds had once scudded by on their way to forever, how the birds had wheeled overhead, shaping circled of eternity in the blue sky.

A pure sound.  Pure notes. The music of Forever. ‘My wood has turned into music!’ the tree gasped, deep inside herself. ‘The forester spoke the truth.’

And the music resounded, from listening heart to listening heart, down through all the ages until at last, when all the listening hearts had made their own journey home, it rolled through the gates of eternity, where the little tree became a Forever Tree.

(Photo artist unknown)

                                                                         Story by Margaret Silf  

          (Original Source unknown: Reference in One Hundred Wisdom Stories by Margaret Silf,

Lion Publishing, 2003)

Ponderings:
• What are the desires deep down in the core of my being?
• How does the story make me feel?
• Is there something disturbing for me in the story?
• Is there something true for me in the story?

(questions adapted from Megan McKenna)      

Masking our True Selves?

BEST MASK?

They just had a contest for scariest mask,

And I was the wild and daring one

Who won the contest for scariest mask-

And (sob) I'm not even wearing one.

 by shel silverstein

(source unknown)

According to the statistics, the USA spends approximately 9 billion dollars on Halloween candy, costumes, and decorations.  Even our pets are fully costumed along with accessories to the tune of 3-4 million dollars.  This is an eve to celebrate “All Hallows Eve," the day before All Saints Day. 

Background: Halloween has its roots in the ancient Celtic tribes of Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and Brittany. On October 31, the tribes would celebrate the festival of Samhain. During this festival, Celts believed the souls of the dead -- including ghosts, goblins, and witches -- returned to mingle with the living. In order to scare away the evil spirits, people would wear masks and light bonfires.

Also, the current custom of going door-to-door to collect treats actually started in Ireland hundreds of years ago. Groups of farmers would go door-to-door collecting food and materials for a village feast and bonfire. Those who gave were promised prosperity; those who did not received threats of bad luck. When an influx of Irish Catholic immigrants came to the United States in the 1800s, the custom of trick-or-treating came with them.

So what is the Good News for us at Halloween?
Let us ponder . . .
• Do we ever put on masks to hide our true selves?
• Do we ever wear masks to present a particular identity or image?
• Often Halloween is a time for children and adults to dress up like a character they’d like to be. Who would you like to be if you had a chance to take on the persona of someone else?
• All of these “fun ‘n games” are grounded in our faith needs - that is, to scare away evil, and have the courage to stand tall and let our true inner selves come forward without fear, and to call upon all the saints – women, men, and children who have been witnesses of lives lived with integrity, mercy, faith, and forgiveness - to be our companions on our faith journey.

 

A Prayer to Quiet Mind and Heart . . .

A Quieting Prayer . . .
I weave a silence on my lips,
I weave a silence into my mind,
I weave a silence within my heart.

I close my ears to distractions,
I close my eyes to attentions,
I close my heart to temptations.

Calm me, O God, as you stilled the storm,
Still me, O God, keep me from harm.
Let all the tumult within me cease,
Enfold me, God, in your peace.
(Author Unknown ~ Celtic Tradition)

Prayer of Love and Peace . . .

new vulnerability
Blessed are the poor …
not the penniless
but those whose heart is free.
Blessed are those who mourn …
not those who whimper
but those who raise their voices.

Blessed are the meek …
not the soft
but those who are patient and tolerant.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice …
not those who whine
but those who struggle.

Blessed are the merciful …
not those who forget
but those who forgive.
Blessed are the pure in heart …
not those who act like angels
but those whose life is transparent.

Blessed are the peacemakers …
not those who shun conflict
but those who face it squarely.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for justice …
not because they suffer
but because they love. ~ P. Jacobs

Thresholds: A Book of Prayers, 2011
Edited and compiled by Helen Hacksley and Robert Steiner
Original source unknown and unavailable. . .

Let us live peace, be peace!

A Franciscan Prayer for Peace
by Chuck Faso, OFM
http://peaceandeverythinggood.blogspot.com/2009/01/franciscan-prayer-for-peace.html

Lord, make us instruments of your Peace

In a world all too prone to violence and revenge,
We commit ourselves to the Gospel Values of
Mercy, Justice, Compassion, and Love;
We will seek daily to promote forgiveness and healing
in our hearts, our families, and our world.

Where there is hatred, let us sow Love;
Where there is injury, let us cultivate Peace

Fear and distance prevent people from recognizing all
as brothers and sisters;
tensions lead to violence and mistrust;
We will strive to honor the dignity that God places
in each and every human person.

Grant that we may not seek to be understood as to Understand;
To be loved as to Love

Our failure to understand the other can create exclusion
in all its negative forms –
racism, marginalization of those who are poor, sick, the immigrant;
it can also create situations of domination, occupation, oppression and war.
We pledge to seek the way of solidarity,
to create hearts, homes, and communities
where all people will experience inclusion, hospitality, and understanding.

For it is in giving that we receive, in pardoning that we are pardoned
And in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Let us Pray:
Lord God, create in us:
-the Capacity to hear and understand the voices of those who suffer from
every form of violence, injustice, and dehumanization;
-the Openness to receive and honor people from other cultures, languages,
religious traditions, and geographical regions;
-the Creativity to explore new ways of communication and dialogue through
music, poetry, performing arts, and the mass media;
-the Audacity to undertake the building of communities of forgiveness, healing,
and reconciliation.
To God who is above all and in all are the glory and the honor. Amen

It was for me?

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)