After a number of tries earlier this week, the text of this week's reflection on the Transfiguration actually was completed. Actually, it's last revision only happened this morning, after its first public appearance. In a rare first, this reflection was recorded for purposes of podcast not once (as is normally the routine) but twice so that the minor adjustments to the text could be reflected also in the recorded version. Happy Sunday!
Have you ever had the experience of seeing something that looks ordinary enough in one moment and completely different in the next? Nothing remarkable … and then seemingly transfixed? Autumn leaves can strike you this way, as the sun comes out with its gift of illumination. People say, 'the sun makes a great difference … but that's not quite the kind of change I'm referring to here because in that case the sun is shining on something. What I'm thinking of is an occasion where light is shining through ... in fact where it comes breaking through.
You may or may not have noticed, but there are a number of stained glass windows in this church, each of which has its own particular beauty. They are best appreciated when sunlight is shining through them from outside this building, but they take on a special beauty when the sun is brilliant and bright. They are then transfigured, and bathe the inside of this building with their own mixture of reds, yellows, greens and blues. I suppose the transfiguration we meet most often is the one that happens in the human face: when a serious face breaks into a smile, or better yet, when a person who means a lot to you looks at you with love.
What changed the Lord's appearance up on the mountain that day. What broke through? It was his divinity ... the God in him. On every other day, he looked like an ordinary man, but for however long it lasted, he looked like the Son of God. The transfiguration is a proclamation from the very mountaintops that this person is divine.
Why was Jesus transfigured on the mountain? Why did he bring the three apostles with him? The first reason has to do with Peter. Prior to this moment in time, another significant encounter had taken place between Jesus and Peter in a place called Caesarea Philippi (Mt 16:13-20). It would seem that people generally thought of Jesus as one of the prophets who had come back to life - nothing particularly new or exciting, but rather a reincarnation of the old. 'But you,' he had said to his apostles, 'who do you say I am?' It was Peter who had the courage to answer, 'You are the Christ, the Son of the living God' (Mt 16:17). There must have been a silence at that moment: the kind of silence that seems to stop time, the kind of silence that senses a significant discovery, a silence that acknowledges faith. What Peter had just said was absolutely momentous. He had expressed faith in Jesus as the Messiah. He was the first of the disciples ever to do so in such a clear-cut way.
Jesus wanted to sustain this faith in Peter's heart and in the hearts of the other disciples. He did it first with words, 'Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven' (Mt 16:17). He did it the second time in action at the summit of the mountain. Verbal confirmation first, and visual confirmation later. What he had seen in faith, Peter would now see with his own eyes, if only for a fleeting moment. So would James and John.
The second reason for Jesus' transfiguration also has something to do with Peter and the other disciples. One thing for which none of them was prepared was the notion that Jesus would have to suffer and die. For Jesus though, it was important that they should be prepared for this reality. Immediately after Peter's confession at Caesarea Philippi, Jesus warned them about the cross that was also to come, but they weren't listening. More than that, they just didn't want to believe it. In fact Peter actually challenged Jesus over this truth, 'Heaven preserve you Lord. This must not happen to you.' (Mt 16:22) Their unwillingness to accept his dying was a normal human reaction. After all, he was healthy and robust at the time, but the Transfiguration would also prove to be an enormous help to them when the truth of his suffering and death became known. It would reinforce the message that Christ's death must inevitably come. Moses and Elijah would be 'talking to Jesus about the exodus he was to accomplish in Jerusalem (Lk 9:31). They would be confirming, as prophets themselves, what the prophets had always foretold, but more importantly, the Transfiguration would help to convince the disciples that death would not prevail - the Resurrection would.
The third reason for the Transfiguration has more to do with you and me. Peter, James and John saw the Transfiguration on that day. We see it in hindsight. They saw it as television 'on demand', but we see the replay some time later. It helped them to retain faith in Christ through his passion and crucifixion. When he and they were at their lowest, they remembered these heights. Hopefully, even at this distance, it can help us to remember the heights as well. There are all sorts of ways in which our own faith is tested: by the randomness of illness or accident, by the seemingly arbitrary way someone we love suffers a slow death or a sudden extinction, or by the biggest test of all when we have to face, in our own lives, the reality of suffering and the prospect of dying. There is a terrible tension between the fear we experience and the faith we profess. When our faith is tested in these ways, I'm not sure whether our memory of the Transfiguration makes that much difference. It does help though, when we're down and doubting, and more so when we're dreading, to know that the Lord is near at hand.
The glimpse of God in Christ was meant for more than just three of us. It was meant for all of us.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Pride of place
Do you know your cultural lineage? Can you trace your ancestors? Do you know their stories and how these stories enrich the person you are?
Lent is all about discovering our spiritual heritage, or re-discovering it anew. This is a story rich in tradition and deeply rooted. Since the beginning, the message has always been the same. It's based on an agreement made between God and us. For his part, he agrees to take us as his own and to invest us with all the riches of his patrimony. What greater gift could he bestow than to count us among his chosen loved ones? With this heritage, we have truly been given a reason to celebrate and a blessing to be thankful for.
I can picture God sharing this good news with us from the heights of Mount Tabor, but I can equally see Jesus chatting with his diciples about how this special adoption sets us apart. It would have been like a father having the talk with his children, giving them some serious advise about living life and living it well. Jesus instructed his disciples, telling them that they can't be content to measure up to others who are in places of authority; they must instead live by a higher standard.
We have equally been challenged by Jesus to live to this higher level of commitment. Ours is the task of loving without meausre, of living justly and doing our part to promote justice for those who can't do it for themselves, of walking humbly with others and with our God (cf Mi 6:4).
Lent is all about discovering our spiritual heritage, or re-discovering it anew. This is a story rich in tradition and deeply rooted. Since the beginning, the message has always been the same. It's based on an agreement made between God and us. For his part, he agrees to take us as his own and to invest us with all the riches of his patrimony. What greater gift could he bestow than to count us among his chosen loved ones? With this heritage, we have truly been given a reason to celebrate and a blessing to be thankful for.
I can picture God sharing this good news with us from the heights of Mount Tabor, but I can equally see Jesus chatting with his diciples about how this special adoption sets us apart. It would have been like a father having the talk with his children, giving them some serious advise about living life and living it well. Jesus instructed his disciples, telling them that they can't be content to measure up to others who are in places of authority; they must instead live by a higher standard.
We have equally been challenged by Jesus to live to this higher level of commitment. Ours is the task of loving without meausre, of living justly and doing our part to promote justice for those who can't do it for themselves, of walking humbly with others and with our God (cf Mi 6:4).
Friday, February 26, 2010
Above and beyond
Children can be very perceptive indeed, and what they see, how they experience certain moments, and the people that are there to help them understand how special they are, make all the difference. Take school for instance: it's one thing to enter the doors of the school every day, to attend classes, to go through the motions of being a student. It's quite another thing when the teacher is able to go beyond the lessons in the books to identify the life lessons their students need to learn, and to make these lessons possible.
Students come in all shapes and sizes. So do teachers. Each has his or her own story to tell. Each has his or her own history, but when they combine and spirits meet, there is a different, a more vibrant connection that is often lifegiving in oh so many ways.
Making these kinds of connections requires some thinking outside the box. The teacher must be able to go above and beyond the call of duty in order to truly take an interest in the young minds, hearts and souls that are confided to his or her care, but they're not the only ones who can and should have such experiences. You and I can and should also be the same. The difference is that we can choose to either exist or to live, to go through life from day to day content with the status quo or seeing each day as a gift, another opportunity to make a difference for our world and for someone else.
Explorers, missionaries and entrepreneurs, all of whom have set out to leave their marks on society know what this is like. Those who spend their lives sharing the gift of faith with others or looking for opportunities and occasions to better society have had at least a glimpse of what doors this approach to life can open. Today might present an occasion for you too to make this kind of choice.
Plan to go above and beyond the call of duty. Look for occasions today to make a difference.
Students come in all shapes and sizes. So do teachers. Each has his or her own story to tell. Each has his or her own history, but when they combine and spirits meet, there is a different, a more vibrant connection that is often lifegiving in oh so many ways.
Making these kinds of connections requires some thinking outside the box. The teacher must be able to go above and beyond the call of duty in order to truly take an interest in the young minds, hearts and souls that are confided to his or her care, but they're not the only ones who can and should have such experiences. You and I can and should also be the same. The difference is that we can choose to either exist or to live, to go through life from day to day content with the status quo or seeing each day as a gift, another opportunity to make a difference for our world and for someone else.
Explorers, missionaries and entrepreneurs, all of whom have set out to leave their marks on society know what this is like. Those who spend their lives sharing the gift of faith with others or looking for opportunities and occasions to better society have had at least a glimpse of what doors this approach to life can open. Today might present an occasion for you too to make this kind of choice.
Plan to go above and beyond the call of duty. Look for occasions today to make a difference.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Speak up
It takes an entire village to raise a child.
This proverb is proving to be more and more true in today's society. In days of yore, there were a number of established support systems for children ('traditional' family structures, church groups etc) all of which were aimed at helping our youngsters to learn valuable lessons about the relationships that are most important in life, and the ones which can prove to be detrimental.
Unfortunately, many of these structures have disintegrated or been significantly changed in recent years, so much so that some teenagers and children are now asking 'if things are so dangerous, why has nothing changed?' There is truth in this statement, and a challenge to those who have it within their power to make a difference for others who are most at risk. If we are so aware of the factors that have been damaged or completely removed, why have we not put some kind of tool or support system in place?
Adults who are faced with this kind of question are rightfully stymied, because although we have spent vast amounts of energy understanding the socio-economic implications and the statistics, the time is nigh for us to do something concrete to show our children and our teenagers that the love they crave, the sense of belonging they have been looking for, is also valuable to adults.
When she herself was faced with life threatening experiences, Queen Esther prayed fervently and asked God to help her. I can't help but believe that children and teenagers who face the countless pressures of life today, and particularly those who have no other recourse for support, must cry out for help in prayer. If these friends of ours have been lucky enough to have been introduced to a faith dimension in their lives prior to these crisis moments, perhaps their pleas are addressed to God (however they may understand Him). If not, perhaps their cries are aimed in some other direction. Hopefully they do have someone who will listen, someone who they can trust, someone who will check in with them and tell them how much they are loved. If not, the alternatives are not so pretty.
It's not too late though to make a difference in the lives of those who are dear to us. Take the time today to speak with those who are important to you. Take the time to tell them how much you love them. Take the time to make a difference in their lives. They will thank you for it, and you'll know that you're already making a difference, just by speaking up.
This proverb is proving to be more and more true in today's society. In days of yore, there were a number of established support systems for children ('traditional' family structures, church groups etc) all of which were aimed at helping our youngsters to learn valuable lessons about the relationships that are most important in life, and the ones which can prove to be detrimental.
Unfortunately, many of these structures have disintegrated or been significantly changed in recent years, so much so that some teenagers and children are now asking 'if things are so dangerous, why has nothing changed?' There is truth in this statement, and a challenge to those who have it within their power to make a difference for others who are most at risk. If we are so aware of the factors that have been damaged or completely removed, why have we not put some kind of tool or support system in place?
Adults who are faced with this kind of question are rightfully stymied, because although we have spent vast amounts of energy understanding the socio-economic implications and the statistics, the time is nigh for us to do something concrete to show our children and our teenagers that the love they crave, the sense of belonging they have been looking for, is also valuable to adults.
When she herself was faced with life threatening experiences, Queen Esther prayed fervently and asked God to help her. I can't help but believe that children and teenagers who face the countless pressures of life today, and particularly those who have no other recourse for support, must cry out for help in prayer. If these friends of ours have been lucky enough to have been introduced to a faith dimension in their lives prior to these crisis moments, perhaps their pleas are addressed to God (however they may understand Him). If not, perhaps their cries are aimed in some other direction. Hopefully they do have someone who will listen, someone who they can trust, someone who will check in with them and tell them how much they are loved. If not, the alternatives are not so pretty.
It's not too late though to make a difference in the lives of those who are dear to us. Take the time today to speak with those who are important to you. Take the time to tell them how much you love them. Take the time to make a difference in their lives. They will thank you for it, and you'll know that you're already making a difference, just by speaking up.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Manageable pieces
While she was alive, Mother Teresa became known around the world for her work with the poorest of the poor, first in urban centres in India and then increasingly in other parts of the world. She was so well respected and revered that when she died she was accorded the equivalent of a state funeral in India and the Church wasted little time in opening her cause for canonization.
How does one become so respected and looked up to? In her case, she always said that she began her work with the poor one person at a time.
When Sister Teresa heard the call of God to leave her teaching position with the Loreto Sisters, she was initially filled with fear about leaving the familiar surroundings in which she had lived for so many years, but this call would not go away, so she eventually made the bold move to walk outside the walls of the convent, and to begin a new chapter in her life.
Sometimes we too face potentially life-changing decisions, and we can easily become overwhelmed by the myriad implications of such decisions. Perhaps we don't face the crowds of the Calcutta streets, but such moments can and often do make us feel very much like Jonah who was invited to enter the city of Nineveh (a biblical metropol): a daunting task, to be sure.
Like Jonah, Mother Teresa also faced her fear head on, and tackled the task not by considering its magnitude, but by viewing it in small, manageable chunks. According to her, she could not face the crushing opression of poverty that was all around her, not on her own, but she could show compassion to one person at a time. In so doing, she managed to make a difference, and others who saw her tenacity and believed that she was indeed doing something good, followed in her footsteps. They are still following, in incredible numbers: proof that there was and is a valid need for such compassion, and that the work is effective.
How does one become so respected and looked up to? In her case, she always said that she began her work with the poor one person at a time.
When Sister Teresa heard the call of God to leave her teaching position with the Loreto Sisters, she was initially filled with fear about leaving the familiar surroundings in which she had lived for so many years, but this call would not go away, so she eventually made the bold move to walk outside the walls of the convent, and to begin a new chapter in her life.
Sometimes we too face potentially life-changing decisions, and we can easily become overwhelmed by the myriad implications of such decisions. Perhaps we don't face the crowds of the Calcutta streets, but such moments can and often do make us feel very much like Jonah who was invited to enter the city of Nineveh (a biblical metropol): a daunting task, to be sure.
Like Jonah, Mother Teresa also faced her fear head on, and tackled the task not by considering its magnitude, but by viewing it in small, manageable chunks. According to her, she could not face the crushing opression of poverty that was all around her, not on her own, but she could show compassion to one person at a time. In so doing, she managed to make a difference, and others who saw her tenacity and believed that she was indeed doing something good, followed in her footsteps. They are still following, in incredible numbers: proof that there was and is a valid need for such compassion, and that the work is effective.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Forming the formators
Call me crazy, but last night I spent two hours or so with some of our young teachers.
Those who teach in the Catholic School system are required to complete studies in religious formation (fondly referred to as Religion I, II and III) before they can be designated as specialists. A few months ago I received an invitation to teach four of the classes for this group, and after much prayer and reflection (and a few moments of agonizing over whether or not I had enough energy or time to commit to such a prospect, I agreed to four teaching engagements over the next five weeks.
Walking into this new setting, I must admit that I was a bit nervous. They know each other relatively well: they see each other every week (except for statutory holidays) so they have a shared history together, but when the 'teacher' is parachuted in, there is always a new element added to the mix.
After doing some preliminary introductions, I launched into the task at hand. Somewhat modeled on the approach of Randy Pausch, I endeavored to expose these neophyte teachers to the hard truths about faith in today's teaching context. First, I wanted them to explore faith in their own story, so we did a few priorities exercises ... then I invited them to take a fresh look at an old favorite (the Lord's Prayer), and the combined result from these exercises was quite revelatory.
Prayers may be uttered, but sometimes they become routine, and then we get lazy about paying attention to the words we use, much less to the meanings they imply, the questions they ask or the obligations they impose. It helps every now and then to slow down, to take one or other of these prayers apart, or to break them down into little chunks, or even to take them line by line. Considering them in such minute detail and allowing our minds and hearts to look at them with new eyes can sometimes help us to find new insight and fodder for further conversations with God.
Oh, by the way, the first reading for today's liturgy also speaks about words: in this case the words spoken by God himself. In Isaiah's portrayal, we get a glimpse of the power of God's words. These are utterances which happened at various times throughout our history. These words have had great power - to create, to destroy, to restore, to curse or to bless. I wonder how often we take the time to consider that our words too are just as powerful.
Be conscious today about the words we use. They have great power to do good or to do evil, to build up or to tear down. To harm or to bring about wonderful possibilities.
Those who teach in the Catholic School system are required to complete studies in religious formation (fondly referred to as Religion I, II and III) before they can be designated as specialists. A few months ago I received an invitation to teach four of the classes for this group, and after much prayer and reflection (and a few moments of agonizing over whether or not I had enough energy or time to commit to such a prospect, I agreed to four teaching engagements over the next five weeks.
Walking into this new setting, I must admit that I was a bit nervous. They know each other relatively well: they see each other every week (except for statutory holidays) so they have a shared history together, but when the 'teacher' is parachuted in, there is always a new element added to the mix.
After doing some preliminary introductions, I launched into the task at hand. Somewhat modeled on the approach of Randy Pausch, I endeavored to expose these neophyte teachers to the hard truths about faith in today's teaching context. First, I wanted them to explore faith in their own story, so we did a few priorities exercises ... then I invited them to take a fresh look at an old favorite (the Lord's Prayer), and the combined result from these exercises was quite revelatory.
Prayers may be uttered, but sometimes they become routine, and then we get lazy about paying attention to the words we use, much less to the meanings they imply, the questions they ask or the obligations they impose. It helps every now and then to slow down, to take one or other of these prayers apart, or to break them down into little chunks, or even to take them line by line. Considering them in such minute detail and allowing our minds and hearts to look at them with new eyes can sometimes help us to find new insight and fodder for further conversations with God.
Oh, by the way, the first reading for today's liturgy also speaks about words: in this case the words spoken by God himself. In Isaiah's portrayal, we get a glimpse of the power of God's words. These are utterances which happened at various times throughout our history. These words have had great power - to create, to destroy, to restore, to curse or to bless. I wonder how often we take the time to consider that our words too are just as powerful.
Be conscious today about the words we use. They have great power to do good or to do evil, to build up or to tear down. To harm or to bring about wonderful possibilities.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Questions and answers
One of the earliest memories of tests endured as a child involved questions being asked by adults in our midst. With the eagerness of youth, I often ventured a response to such questions, but on more than one occasion my answer was either not accepted (either because it was incorrect or because it wasn't quite the response being sought). Call me an overachiever but this kind of response to my tendered answer caused me on more than one occasion later on in my formative years to think twice about offering an answer.
It seems that at times Jesus asks questions of us, and only after struggling with the situation presented do we recognize that He has already figured out the proper answer. Chidren who are rebuffed for presenting an incorrect response can be hurt, but adults who have sufficiently matured can hopefully understand that incomplete or incorrect answers are just as much part of the learning process as correct ones are.
Jesus himself put his disciples to the test on more than one occasion, including the interrogation at Cesarea Philippi . I wonder whether they too felt the pressure of being put to the test (by the master teacher). What kinds of answers swirled in the minds of the disciples? It's also interesting that it was Peter, the one who had been the most doubtful about many things that Jesus had tried to teach in the first place, who was the first to respond verbally.
Peter often spoke not so much from a logical point of view but from the heart, and this was indeed what made him so attractive to Jesus. It's also what makes him such a model for the rest of us. As we strive each day to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, do we sometimes let our proficiency for thinking (with our brains) outweigh our primal instincts to respond in faith?
Perhaps it is precisely the heart of the shepherd, moulded by the Master, pierced by human weakness and wounded through pride that allowed Peter to speak with such eloquence about the power of leadership in the Church: leadership born out of a first-hand knowledge of our own weakness and inadequacy for the task; leadership inspired by the knowledge that we are all on the same path toward our ultimate destinations.
Along the way, when the questions are asked, perhaps the answers have already been determined, but it is the discovery of these answers, and more importantly the effect they have on us that makes the journey worth the effort.
It seems that at times Jesus asks questions of us, and only after struggling with the situation presented do we recognize that He has already figured out the proper answer. Chidren who are rebuffed for presenting an incorrect response can be hurt, but adults who have sufficiently matured can hopefully understand that incomplete or incorrect answers are just as much part of the learning process as correct ones are.
Jesus himself put his disciples to the test on more than one occasion, including the interrogation at Cesarea Philippi . I wonder whether they too felt the pressure of being put to the test (by the master teacher). What kinds of answers swirled in the minds of the disciples? It's also interesting that it was Peter, the one who had been the most doubtful about many things that Jesus had tried to teach in the first place, who was the first to respond verbally.
Peter often spoke not so much from a logical point of view but from the heart, and this was indeed what made him so attractive to Jesus. It's also what makes him such a model for the rest of us. As we strive each day to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, do we sometimes let our proficiency for thinking (with our brains) outweigh our primal instincts to respond in faith?
Perhaps it is precisely the heart of the shepherd, moulded by the Master, pierced by human weakness and wounded through pride that allowed Peter to speak with such eloquence about the power of leadership in the Church: leadership born out of a first-hand knowledge of our own weakness and inadequacy for the task; leadership inspired by the knowledge that we are all on the same path toward our ultimate destinations.
Along the way, when the questions are asked, perhaps the answers have already been determined, but it is the discovery of these answers, and more importantly the effect they have on us that makes the journey worth the effort.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
A new perspective
Every year on the first Sunday of Lent, the Church provides us with the gospel passage recounting Jesus' temptations in the desert. The trouble with the stories of Jesus' life, and most others in the bible that are told time and time again is that we can sometimes hear them but not pay too much attention to them. Sometimes the reader completes the proclamation, and the listeners respond with the appropriate words (Praise be to you, Lord Jesus Christ) ... they even sit back down again, but then find themselves wondering what the story just told was all about.
The trick for the homilist is always to be on the lookout for new perspectives on the same passages. Sometimes this takes the form of new lessons, but more often than not, we end up with new learnings ourselves, or new ways to appreciate the wisdom of the words (assuming of course that we've taken the time to truly mull over the words, to consider them prayerfully and to hear them through the ears of the people who will have to listen to them when they are proclaimed in the assembly.
Thanks to much such musing this week, I think I've come up with a fresh look at the Temptations of Jesus. Here's a little teaser:
When I was a young boy, we had an old fashioned washing machine in the house, one of the ones with a ringer on top. When the clothes had been washed, my mother would grab them by the collar or by the waistband and force them through the wringer to remove the excess water before they would be hung on the line. If ever it was possible to feel sorry for inanimate objects, perhaps this was a prime example. A shirt, a pair of pyjamas, even socks and underwear would come inching through, limp, flattened almost completely dehydrated. Then to make matters worse, my mother (who is perhaps the most compassionate person I know) would repeat the process, forcing each item of clothing through the wringer a second time.
Have I managed to peak your interest? If so, you can listen to the complete homily (including the proclamation of the gospel) or you can read the text of the reflection. Your choice. Happy Sunday.
The trick for the homilist is always to be on the lookout for new perspectives on the same passages. Sometimes this takes the form of new lessons, but more often than not, we end up with new learnings ourselves, or new ways to appreciate the wisdom of the words (assuming of course that we've taken the time to truly mull over the words, to consider them prayerfully and to hear them through the ears of the people who will have to listen to them when they are proclaimed in the assembly.
Thanks to much such musing this week, I think I've come up with a fresh look at the Temptations of Jesus. Here's a little teaser:
When I was a young boy, we had an old fashioned washing machine in the house, one of the ones with a ringer on top. When the clothes had been washed, my mother would grab them by the collar or by the waistband and force them through the wringer to remove the excess water before they would be hung on the line. If ever it was possible to feel sorry for inanimate objects, perhaps this was a prime example. A shirt, a pair of pyjamas, even socks and underwear would come inching through, limp, flattened almost completely dehydrated. Then to make matters worse, my mother (who is perhaps the most compassionate person I know) would repeat the process, forcing each item of clothing through the wringer a second time.
Have I managed to peak your interest? If so, you can listen to the complete homily (including the proclamation of the gospel) or you can read the text of the reflection. Your choice. Happy Sunday.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Things you don't see every day
I had reason to visit in a hospital setting a few days ago. Hospitals are usually busy places. To the untrained eye, it appears as though there is nothing but chaos going on, but actually it's organized chaos at worst and planned movement at best ... and the faces one sees (and the stories that each could tell) are as varied as there are grains of sand on a seashore.
As I walked through the exterior doors, the first people I saw appeared to have things relatively under control. They were moving to and fro along the entrance corridor, some to the nearby coffee shop, others to the gift shop. Some were waiting for their rides to arrive, and others were just arriving and looking for directions to the department or person who could best answer their querries.
As I moved deeper into the building, I met other people who were obviously waiting to speak to someone at an admission desk, and yet others who had already passed through the initial triage and were now awaiting their turn to speak to a doctor or other medical professional.
Considering how many people I sometimes meet outside a hospital setting, these were a relatively small number, yet these were all here for some reason or other. How many, I wonder, who fly through daily life with little or no thought for the medical professionals who are within this building (and others like it) may one day need their services? How many other such professions go seemingly unnoticed until a need is perceived? In a consumerist society, this reality would appear to be more and more evident.
What about those who need the doctors but don't realize their need? How many of the people we meet today are already experiencing the beginnings of physical need, even if they aren't aware of it yet. How many others need a doctor of another kind? When Jesus encountered Matthew, and invited himself to dinner, did he know that he would find himself surrounded with others of Matthew's friends?
On more than one occasion, He found himself in such situations (or perhaps he purposefully put himself in such surroundings). It's funny how we often will choose to hang out with others with whom we are comfortable: we call these people friends, but Jesus challenges us at times to seek out the ones who need us, and these are often the ones who make us uncomfortable. We never know the effect that our words will have on an innocent listener, or on a casual bystander. Perhaps we might even effect some unexpected healing of mind or heart ... just by taking the time to be present to another.
Who needs the doctor?
As I walked through the exterior doors, the first people I saw appeared to have things relatively under control. They were moving to and fro along the entrance corridor, some to the nearby coffee shop, others to the gift shop. Some were waiting for their rides to arrive, and others were just arriving and looking for directions to the department or person who could best answer their querries.
As I moved deeper into the building, I met other people who were obviously waiting to speak to someone at an admission desk, and yet others who had already passed through the initial triage and were now awaiting their turn to speak to a doctor or other medical professional.
Considering how many people I sometimes meet outside a hospital setting, these were a relatively small number, yet these were all here for some reason or other. How many, I wonder, who fly through daily life with little or no thought for the medical professionals who are within this building (and others like it) may one day need their services? How many other such professions go seemingly unnoticed until a need is perceived? In a consumerist society, this reality would appear to be more and more evident.
What about those who need the doctors but don't realize their need? How many of the people we meet today are already experiencing the beginnings of physical need, even if they aren't aware of it yet. How many others need a doctor of another kind? When Jesus encountered Matthew, and invited himself to dinner, did he know that he would find himself surrounded with others of Matthew's friends?
On more than one occasion, He found himself in such situations (or perhaps he purposefully put himself in such surroundings). It's funny how we often will choose to hang out with others with whom we are comfortable: we call these people friends, but Jesus challenges us at times to seek out the ones who need us, and these are often the ones who make us uncomfortable. We never know the effect that our words will have on an innocent listener, or on a casual bystander. Perhaps we might even effect some unexpected healing of mind or heart ... just by taking the time to be present to another.
Who needs the doctor?
Friday, February 19, 2010
On the discipline of fasting
A number of years ago, the story of Mohandas Ghandi, the Mahatma, was told in film and won much acclaim. What made Ghandi famous and deeply loved by millions was his commitment to the people, and what made a difference for them was that he showed them how to stand up to great power through non-confrontation. In the eyes of the powerful, it seemed as though his actions and those of his followers were meant to provoke anger (for these actions were often rebelious) but in the end, the nonviolence caused the British to shake their heads and perhaps secretly to admire his (and their) commitment and strength.
We live in a land which is blessed with great abundance. We have been made only too well aware of this fact in recent months, and for this we should always be grateful, but when you're in the midst of the forest, it's sometimes hard to see the trees. We do not want for food or shelter. We have some of the largest reserves of fresh water in the world. We have relatively easy access to health care. Most comforts are ours for the taking, but then again that's what makes the discipline of fasting so significant for us, even if we don't show it to the outside world.
The gospel passage from Ash Wednesday cautions us not to flaunt the fact that we may be fasting, for fear that we may already receive our just reward from the hands of others rather than from God. Fasting (in the Christian sense) is not meant to make an impression on an occupying force or on another human being. In fact if we do it for our own good, we're barking up the wrong tree.
There are many ways to fast: from an abundance of food, from a misuse of leisure time, from procrastination ... but the aim of this discipline is that once the clutter of our wastefulness has been removed (even just for the short period of Lent), we become more aware of the needs of others, and choose to respond to these needs out of love. In the biblical language, the prophet Isaiah points out that if fasting leads to anger and quarelling, it's self serving and therefore misdirected. If however it helps us to become aware of injustices that can be righted, or to identify the truly needy in our midst and to do something to change their predicament instead of turning a blind eye, then we've begun to catch the spirit of the law, and that makes all the difference.
In the time of Jesus, fasting was seen as a practice of mourning, but like so many other practices of his day, Jesus changed (or perhaps clarified) our understanding of these things, and helped us to see that they should not be meant for navel gazing, but rather for changing our perception of the world around us.
Go therefore into the world. Fast if you must in order to recognize the needy in our midst, but have the courage to do what you can to change their lives, and to help them to see (as you do) that the Kingdom of God is in our midst and ought to be celebrated.
We live in a land which is blessed with great abundance. We have been made only too well aware of this fact in recent months, and for this we should always be grateful, but when you're in the midst of the forest, it's sometimes hard to see the trees. We do not want for food or shelter. We have some of the largest reserves of fresh water in the world. We have relatively easy access to health care. Most comforts are ours for the taking, but then again that's what makes the discipline of fasting so significant for us, even if we don't show it to the outside world.
The gospel passage from Ash Wednesday cautions us not to flaunt the fact that we may be fasting, for fear that we may already receive our just reward from the hands of others rather than from God. Fasting (in the Christian sense) is not meant to make an impression on an occupying force or on another human being. In fact if we do it for our own good, we're barking up the wrong tree.
There are many ways to fast: from an abundance of food, from a misuse of leisure time, from procrastination ... but the aim of this discipline is that once the clutter of our wastefulness has been removed (even just for the short period of Lent), we become more aware of the needs of others, and choose to respond to these needs out of love. In the biblical language, the prophet Isaiah points out that if fasting leads to anger and quarelling, it's self serving and therefore misdirected. If however it helps us to become aware of injustices that can be righted, or to identify the truly needy in our midst and to do something to change their predicament instead of turning a blind eye, then we've begun to catch the spirit of the law, and that makes all the difference.
In the time of Jesus, fasting was seen as a practice of mourning, but like so many other practices of his day, Jesus changed (or perhaps clarified) our understanding of these things, and helped us to see that they should not be meant for navel gazing, but rather for changing our perception of the world around us.
Go therefore into the world. Fast if you must in order to recognize the needy in our midst, but have the courage to do what you can to change their lives, and to help them to see (as you do) that the Kingdom of God is in our midst and ought to be celebrated.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Your choice
As it happens, I began reading (or re-reading) James Frey's book entitled A Million Little Pieces just yesterday. As I opened the book and began turning the pages, I can't help thinking that I may very well have read this book before, but like lots of other things, re-doing them adds another dimension. In this case, as I read through the journey of this young man who tells the tale of his life in a rehab centre, I can't help thinking of so many individuals whose paths have crossed mine in the last little while, who themselves are at various stages of living the very same thing. This makes it real.
Addicts cannot deal with their stories until they are willing to admit that something is wrong. Only then can they face the truth (and this is a very difficult decision to make because human nature tries its dardest to convince itself that everything is fine and that life is just grand. As long as we choose to believe this panacea facing the demons is out of the question.
Living Lent is the same thing.
The invitation to enter into this period of purification is issued to all Christians but the degree to which we live it is up to us. Particularly in these introductory days, the scriptures call us to make choices, as though the Lord is inviting us to make up our own minds as to whether or not we're willing to admit that there's something about us that needs to be healed.
The scripture readings for Thursday after Ash Wednesday (that's the official liturgical name for today) set the invitation to words. The writer of the Book of Deutoronomy invites us to choose between life and death. In today's parlance, here's the rub: its up to you to walk this journey. God won't force you to do it, but if you choose to walk, then be prepared to be honest with yourself. That's a tall order, but we're talking about the possibility of life, love and blessings fr0m God. What more could we want?
If for any reason we may still be considering deceiving ourselves by thinking that this is going to be an easy time, the Gospel passage for today pops that bubble right at the start. Jesus had to face suffering before leaving this world (more about that too in later posts) so why would we think that we might be any different, except that he is with us in our suffering, and his presence makes it all bearable and worth it.
Every day is a new opportunity to take up our crosses, to accept the challenges set before us, to admit that we're on the way, and that we can't do this without faith. Each of us has our own cross to bear, just like he did. Perhpas this is the time, right at the outset to begin thinking about the things that are crosses for us, to watch out for these crosses, and to accept them not as burdens, but as opportunities for grace.
Addicts cannot deal with their stories until they are willing to admit that something is wrong. Only then can they face the truth (and this is a very difficult decision to make because human nature tries its dardest to convince itself that everything is fine and that life is just grand. As long as we choose to believe this panacea facing the demons is out of the question.
Living Lent is the same thing.
The invitation to enter into this period of purification is issued to all Christians but the degree to which we live it is up to us. Particularly in these introductory days, the scriptures call us to make choices, as though the Lord is inviting us to make up our own minds as to whether or not we're willing to admit that there's something about us that needs to be healed.
The scripture readings for Thursday after Ash Wednesday (that's the official liturgical name for today) set the invitation to words. The writer of the Book of Deutoronomy invites us to choose between life and death. In today's parlance, here's the rub: its up to you to walk this journey. God won't force you to do it, but if you choose to walk, then be prepared to be honest with yourself. That's a tall order, but we're talking about the possibility of life, love and blessings fr0m God. What more could we want?
If for any reason we may still be considering deceiving ourselves by thinking that this is going to be an easy time, the Gospel passage for today pops that bubble right at the start. Jesus had to face suffering before leaving this world (more about that too in later posts) so why would we think that we might be any different, except that he is with us in our suffering, and his presence makes it all bearable and worth it.
Every day is a new opportunity to take up our crosses, to accept the challenges set before us, to admit that we're on the way, and that we can't do this without faith. Each of us has our own cross to bear, just like he did. Perhpas this is the time, right at the outset to begin thinking about the things that are crosses for us, to watch out for these crosses, and to accept them not as burdens, but as opportunities for grace.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Ashes to ashes
Following the age-old custom, Catholics who began the season of Lent today gathered in churches and other places today to pray and to have ashes imposed on their foreheads. Every time this day arrives, there are some who are conscious of the fact that once they have visited the church and the ashes have been placed on their foreheads (in a cruciform shape or otherwise), others who look upon them might tend to 'remind' them that their faces are dirty.
This isn't necessarily a bad thing. In fact it is one way of witnessing to the world about our faith, about the call for all Christians to follow the disciplines of Lent and to prepare for the celebration of Easter.
The liturgical season of Lent begins with the observance of Ash Wednesday and covers a period of 40 days leading up to the Easter Triduum (Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Saturday) each day of which has its own liturgical significance (but more about that later).
This year, the celebration of Ash Wednesday coincides with the timing of the Winter Olympics, and this latter provides a wonderful jump-off point in order to understand a bit about what Lent is all about.
Athletes from across the world have gathered in Vancouver to compete in the Winter Olympics. For the next week and a half, they will exhibit the best in competition and sport. It's a treat to watch so many people in such top form all of whom are competing for the laurel crowns and the famous medals, but do we stop for a moment every so often to truly understand what it takes for these competitors to reach this level of fitness?
How many hours have they spent in the gym? How many times have they run and re-run their various routines, races and competitions? How many of them have known only too well the deep valleys of defeat as they have competed at various levels in order to get to this podium? How many of them have truly had to face the demons that tempt us to give up in the quiet hours of training?
Facing the demons is perhaps a modern-day way of understanding what Lent is all about. All Christians are invited to enter this period as an opportunity to face their own demons, to overcome temptations bit by bit and to set our sights anew on the promise of resurrection first lived by Christ himself, and promised to each of us on the day of our baptism.
It is fitting then that this 40-day period leads us to the celebration of the Easter or Paschal Triduum and the ultimate joy of the resurrection which is fetted for a period of 50 days during the season of Easter.
Throughout the coming 40 days, it will be good to take a look through the eyes of scripture, and incorporating the realities of modern-day in order to help readers to deepen their understanding and appreciation for this holy season.
It all begins with the exhortation spoken by the priest as ashes are imposed on the foreheads of all believers: 'Remember that you are dust, and unto dust you shall return'. From this humble beginning, great things can and will happen. Come along then for the journey!
This isn't necessarily a bad thing. In fact it is one way of witnessing to the world about our faith, about the call for all Christians to follow the disciplines of Lent and to prepare for the celebration of Easter.
The liturgical season of Lent begins with the observance of Ash Wednesday and covers a period of 40 days leading up to the Easter Triduum (Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Saturday) each day of which has its own liturgical significance (but more about that later).
This year, the celebration of Ash Wednesday coincides with the timing of the Winter Olympics, and this latter provides a wonderful jump-off point in order to understand a bit about what Lent is all about.
Athletes from across the world have gathered in Vancouver to compete in the Winter Olympics. For the next week and a half, they will exhibit the best in competition and sport. It's a treat to watch so many people in such top form all of whom are competing for the laurel crowns and the famous medals, but do we stop for a moment every so often to truly understand what it takes for these competitors to reach this level of fitness?
How many hours have they spent in the gym? How many times have they run and re-run their various routines, races and competitions? How many of them have known only too well the deep valleys of defeat as they have competed at various levels in order to get to this podium? How many of them have truly had to face the demons that tempt us to give up in the quiet hours of training?
Facing the demons is perhaps a modern-day way of understanding what Lent is all about. All Christians are invited to enter this period as an opportunity to face their own demons, to overcome temptations bit by bit and to set our sights anew on the promise of resurrection first lived by Christ himself, and promised to each of us on the day of our baptism.
It is fitting then that this 40-day period leads us to the celebration of the Easter or Paschal Triduum and the ultimate joy of the resurrection which is fetted for a period of 50 days during the season of Easter.
Throughout the coming 40 days, it will be good to take a look through the eyes of scripture, and incorporating the realities of modern-day in order to help readers to deepen their understanding and appreciation for this holy season.
It all begins with the exhortation spoken by the priest as ashes are imposed on the foreheads of all believers: 'Remember that you are dust, and unto dust you shall return'. From this humble beginning, great things can and will happen. Come along then for the journey!
Thursday, February 11, 2010
They came
Today they came through our doors: some of them had been here today, but as is the nature of the beast, there are always a few new faces as well.
What happens in the visible world is easy to figure out: they arrive, we provide the ingredients, and together we prepare a complete meal for them to share with their friends. Each time they come to visit, the ingredients are a bit different, the recipes have been changed (if there is a recipe at all) and the stories they bring through the door are just a bit changed from the previous occasion ... but then again, the stories we too bring to the meeting are different, for each day changes us all in some way or another.
'They' are youngsters who come to us from the Sudbury Action Centre for Youth, commonly known as SACY. We (some parishioners and I) try to share with them an experience of cooking with the result that anyone who may drop into SACY tonight will have a wonderful supper to share.
The more miraculous happening though takes place once the initial layers of the proverbial onion have been removed from the hardened exteriors we all choose to show the outside world. When this happens, stories begin to be told about who we are and about the joys and struggles of our lives. This is the true miracle of this gathering, and in this case, the stories recounted have a particular edge to them, but are the most astounding tales of struggle with the most basic of human challenges, and the valiant efforts put forth by our new-found friends to make a life for themselves.
Many of these friends struggle (some daily) to overcome these struggles, but in the very trying, they in turn teach us so much. They gift us with a unique optic about the way things are for so many of the less fortunate in our society, and all they ask in return is that we give them a place where they can be safe enough to tell their stories, to begin building the bridges which might someday result in trust, and a bit of something to fill their stomachs at the same time.
Each of these meetings is another opportunity for learnings of various kinds. On the surface, this project began with the hope of teaching our visitors about cooking and about the responsibility for feeding their collegues, but as with all projects of this ilk, they themselves end up teaching so much even as they step through our doors.
What happens in the visible world is easy to figure out: they arrive, we provide the ingredients, and together we prepare a complete meal for them to share with their friends. Each time they come to visit, the ingredients are a bit different, the recipes have been changed (if there is a recipe at all) and the stories they bring through the door are just a bit changed from the previous occasion ... but then again, the stories we too bring to the meeting are different, for each day changes us all in some way or another.
'They' are youngsters who come to us from the Sudbury Action Centre for Youth, commonly known as SACY. We (some parishioners and I) try to share with them an experience of cooking with the result that anyone who may drop into SACY tonight will have a wonderful supper to share.
The more miraculous happening though takes place once the initial layers of the proverbial onion have been removed from the hardened exteriors we all choose to show the outside world. When this happens, stories begin to be told about who we are and about the joys and struggles of our lives. This is the true miracle of this gathering, and in this case, the stories recounted have a particular edge to them, but are the most astounding tales of struggle with the most basic of human challenges, and the valiant efforts put forth by our new-found friends to make a life for themselves.
Many of these friends struggle (some daily) to overcome these struggles, but in the very trying, they in turn teach us so much. They gift us with a unique optic about the way things are for so many of the less fortunate in our society, and all they ask in return is that we give them a place where they can be safe enough to tell their stories, to begin building the bridges which might someday result in trust, and a bit of something to fill their stomachs at the same time.
Each of these meetings is another opportunity for learnings of various kinds. On the surface, this project began with the hope of teaching our visitors about cooking and about the responsibility for feeding their collegues, but as with all projects of this ilk, they themselves end up teaching so much even as they step through our doors.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
When more is very good
A number of months ago, we began a series of presentations in the parish where I live and minister. In honor of the Year for Priests, we have entitled this awareness campaign Sharing in the Priesthood.
The aim of this campaign has been to raise awareness among those who worship here about the various ways that individuals can answer their baptismal call to make a difference in the lives of those who are part of this community. Each weekend, a different area of parish involvement has been highlighted, and this will continue for the next number of weeks and months.
In addition to these spotlights, people in this parish were invited to complete a short survey a few months ago which permitted them to tell us more about themselves, about how they are currently involved in parish life, and about how they might like to get more involved, or perhaps about questions they have concerning one or more of the areas of involvement.
As a result of this survey, a number of familiar faces and some not so familiar faces as well were invited to a sit down meeting tonight. The purpose of this gathering was to invite parish volunteers to view their commitment to the life of this place not so much as volunteerism but as a response to a call which has been issued since the day of their baptism.
It was a very humbling experience to witness so many people gathering for this evening session, and even more so to hear their stories as they were told: stories of their willingness to serve, stories of their recognition of God's call having been heard, stories of their commitment to faith and to the community life here at home.
This was a wonderful evening filled with a great balance of fun, intellectual challenge and room for some discoveries of new friends, as well as co-workers in the vineyard. This was one moment in the life of this place, and the life that will flow from it will carry many blessings, but life is dynamic so we will just have to wait and see what comes of the seeds that have been sown tonight. There are signs already that this is a very good thing, for there are already indications not only that the existing involvement of so many is a valuable and vital part of who we are, but some new needs have also been identified and this opens the door to new ways of responding to the call.
The aim of this campaign has been to raise awareness among those who worship here about the various ways that individuals can answer their baptismal call to make a difference in the lives of those who are part of this community. Each weekend, a different area of parish involvement has been highlighted, and this will continue for the next number of weeks and months.
In addition to these spotlights, people in this parish were invited to complete a short survey a few months ago which permitted them to tell us more about themselves, about how they are currently involved in parish life, and about how they might like to get more involved, or perhaps about questions they have concerning one or more of the areas of involvement.
As a result of this survey, a number of familiar faces and some not so familiar faces as well were invited to a sit down meeting tonight. The purpose of this gathering was to invite parish volunteers to view their commitment to the life of this place not so much as volunteerism but as a response to a call which has been issued since the day of their baptism.
It was a very humbling experience to witness so many people gathering for this evening session, and even more so to hear their stories as they were told: stories of their willingness to serve, stories of their recognition of God's call having been heard, stories of their commitment to faith and to the community life here at home.
This was a wonderful evening filled with a great balance of fun, intellectual challenge and room for some discoveries of new friends, as well as co-workers in the vineyard. This was one moment in the life of this place, and the life that will flow from it will carry many blessings, but life is dynamic so we will just have to wait and see what comes of the seeds that have been sown tonight. There are signs already that this is a very good thing, for there are already indications not only that the existing involvement of so many is a valuable and vital part of who we are, but some new needs have also been identified and this opens the door to new ways of responding to the call.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Ships passing
In the early morning hours today I was out for my constitutional. In common parlance this refers to the short walk between my abode and the place where I do the morning workout. While just leaving the property line and walking out onto the sidewalk, I looked up to the right and saw a familiar face who I partially expected to be coming by.
Have you ever been in a place where you see the same people every day (or at least with some frequency). We can become aquainted with such people, learn their habits and timings very well, and even judge our own routines and their timings based on whether or not we happen to see one another while we're on the move. The thing is that we don't have to know each other's names! These people are more often identified by their clothing, or by their routines: the guy I meet at the gym, the girl I see at the bus stop etc.
As it turns out, I do know the person who was attached to the familiar face approaching from the right, but in that context, we are two people passing like ships. Each of us has our routine and its consequent deadlines. We may not have time to stop and chat, but at least we can look out for one another on the road.
Have you ever been in a place where you see the same people every day (or at least with some frequency). We can become aquainted with such people, learn their habits and timings very well, and even judge our own routines and their timings based on whether or not we happen to see one another while we're on the move. The thing is that we don't have to know each other's names! These people are more often identified by their clothing, or by their routines: the guy I meet at the gym, the girl I see at the bus stop etc.
As it turns out, I do know the person who was attached to the familiar face approaching from the right, but in that context, we are two people passing like ships. Each of us has our routine and its consequent deadlines. We may not have time to stop and chat, but at least we can look out for one another on the road.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Catechesis for a family
Some lessons are learned in classrooms with the assistance of books, pencils and pens. Other kinds of lessons are learned through example and hard work. Life itself calls for commitment, and this is never more evident than in the case of our families.
Teaching faith (that's what catechesis is) involves leading by word and example. It calls for dedication and involves lots of hard work, but in the end it's all very worth the effort. The kinds of decisions needed to live exemplary lives, lives that teach these kinds of lessons, are never easy ones, for they often involve difficult choices that must be made and even more difficult commitments that must be undertaken.
Especially when it comes to teaching our children, this kind of commitment is worth every effort. This week, perhaps in light of the meeting we had with children preparing for the celebration of First Reconciliation (who were present at one of the Sunday liturgies today), my reflection invited the adults present to consider the effect of our words and examples, and perhaps more importantly, the effect of not entering into the dialogue of transmitting faith.
Have a listen if you are so inclined; if you prefer to read the text, that too is available for your reading pleasure.
Teaching faith (that's what catechesis is) involves leading by word and example. It calls for dedication and involves lots of hard work, but in the end it's all very worth the effort. The kinds of decisions needed to live exemplary lives, lives that teach these kinds of lessons, are never easy ones, for they often involve difficult choices that must be made and even more difficult commitments that must be undertaken.
Especially when it comes to teaching our children, this kind of commitment is worth every effort. This week, perhaps in light of the meeting we had with children preparing for the celebration of First Reconciliation (who were present at one of the Sunday liturgies today), my reflection invited the adults present to consider the effect of our words and examples, and perhaps more importantly, the effect of not entering into the dialogue of transmitting faith.
Have a listen if you are so inclined; if you prefer to read the text, that too is available for your reading pleasure.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Now for something a bit different
I was asked to preside at a Memorial Service this morning for a gentleman who has ties to this city but who died this past week in another place.
As I sat with his family yesterday to review some of the details of this gathering, I couldn't help thinking that the world is indeed a very small place. Although they have travelled from a small town in Eastern Ontario to be here today, it turns out that I too know someone who lives in their hometown, even though there are not more than about 1100 souls in that place. What's more, there are people living here in this city who have connections with that particular part of the province and as it turns out they too have heard of this passing.
It's never easy to accompany someone on their final journey home, but it can be (and often is) a very healing journey for all who are privileged to walk it. In this case, the first sign of the impending journey was made known only a few months ago, so the time for preparation was not in abundance. This forced his family and friends to ask themselves some serious questions at a very serious and deep level ... in very quick succession.
Words of wisdom once offered me by one of my predecessors advise that in cases of celebrating baptism, we should always attempt to be welcoming. Whenever celebrating the sacraments of life, we should give ourselves the liberty to be challenging, and when it comes to celebrating funerals, we should try our best to be accommodating.
At first, I was a bit unsure about how this celebration would work. It is not the usual procession of events, but knowing that the family had also celebrated the Mass of the Resurrection prior to their arrival here, I knew that we had a certain leeway to incorporate other aspects of prayer. As it turns out, we followed the prescriptions of the Funeral Liturgy outside Mass, and followed the prayers of commendation with a procession to the place of committal and the prayers proper to that moment. There was music, there were people, stories were recounted, and all left that place with the assurance that somehow this liturgy - some of it improvised, some of it prescribed - somehow managed to speak to our hearts.
As I sat with his family yesterday to review some of the details of this gathering, I couldn't help thinking that the world is indeed a very small place. Although they have travelled from a small town in Eastern Ontario to be here today, it turns out that I too know someone who lives in their hometown, even though there are not more than about 1100 souls in that place. What's more, there are people living here in this city who have connections with that particular part of the province and as it turns out they too have heard of this passing.
It's never easy to accompany someone on their final journey home, but it can be (and often is) a very healing journey for all who are privileged to walk it. In this case, the first sign of the impending journey was made known only a few months ago, so the time for preparation was not in abundance. This forced his family and friends to ask themselves some serious questions at a very serious and deep level ... in very quick succession.
Words of wisdom once offered me by one of my predecessors advise that in cases of celebrating baptism, we should always attempt to be welcoming. Whenever celebrating the sacraments of life, we should give ourselves the liberty to be challenging, and when it comes to celebrating funerals, we should try our best to be accommodating.
At first, I was a bit unsure about how this celebration would work. It is not the usual procession of events, but knowing that the family had also celebrated the Mass of the Resurrection prior to their arrival here, I knew that we had a certain leeway to incorporate other aspects of prayer. As it turns out, we followed the prescriptions of the Funeral Liturgy outside Mass, and followed the prayers of commendation with a procession to the place of committal and the prayers proper to that moment. There was music, there were people, stories were recounted, and all left that place with the assurance that somehow this liturgy - some of it improvised, some of it prescribed - somehow managed to speak to our hearts.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Workers in the vineyard
At the beginning of the day, it looked like there was lots on the horizon, but once the morning hours had faded, there was the promise of a little easier pace. That was then, and this is now. As it turned out, the afternoon hours were just as filled with their own variety of 'things' as the morning was.
Once again, today turned out to be filled with a number of blessings, which truly come to light only when the day is over and there is time to reflect on what actually happened. There was a moment to spend with a family who is grieving even as they are preparing the celebration of their recently departed loved one's life, then there was a moment to spend with another individual who is currently exploring the possibility of conversion. There are so many questions to be answered, and it seems at times that each time a querry is responded to, there are more reasons to question, but this is the sign of an inquiring mind that thirsts for knowledge and understanding, and this is indeed very good for the recipient of the explanations as well as for the one who must try to provide the information in the first place.
As the saying goes, 'the job isn't finished until the paperwork is complete'. As it turns out, this dicton also holds true for those of us who try our best to bring good news to the ears of those who are listening. No sooner do we begin attending to the requests that arrive with the ringing of a phone or of a doorbell, than these very requests must themselves be sidelined for a moment so that we can attend to those whose lives turn out to be brightened so much as a result of a five-minute visit and a few words of encouragement. In hospitals, in homes for the aged, in various places of isolation, God's people are present, waiting for a moment, waiting for a word of encouragement, waiting for a gesture of kindness, waiting for an opportunity to love in return.
Once again, today turned out to be filled with a number of blessings, which truly come to light only when the day is over and there is time to reflect on what actually happened. There was a moment to spend with a family who is grieving even as they are preparing the celebration of their recently departed loved one's life, then there was a moment to spend with another individual who is currently exploring the possibility of conversion. There are so many questions to be answered, and it seems at times that each time a querry is responded to, there are more reasons to question, but this is the sign of an inquiring mind that thirsts for knowledge and understanding, and this is indeed very good for the recipient of the explanations as well as for the one who must try to provide the information in the first place.
As the saying goes, 'the job isn't finished until the paperwork is complete'. As it turns out, this dicton also holds true for those of us who try our best to bring good news to the ears of those who are listening. No sooner do we begin attending to the requests that arrive with the ringing of a phone or of a doorbell, than these very requests must themselves be sidelined for a moment so that we can attend to those whose lives turn out to be brightened so much as a result of a five-minute visit and a few words of encouragement. In hospitals, in homes for the aged, in various places of isolation, God's people are present, waiting for a moment, waiting for a word of encouragement, waiting for a gesture of kindness, waiting for an opportunity to love in return.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Out of the mouths of babes
Tonight, some of our young friends began a journey of discovery which will eventually lead them to experience the mercy and forgiveness of God. The process we follow is lots of fun because there are games involved, there is time for discussions and lots of opportunities for kids and their parents to spend time together.
Children and adults alike learn the lessons we have to teach, often without even realizing that they're learning ... and that's the best part ... but the kids (and even their parents) aren't the only ones who learn from this experience. This year, we have invited a few new people to join us as members of the team who together transmit the message and inform children and adults about the lessons of faith, especially as they pertain to the Sacraments of Reconciliation and the Eucharist.
Included in tonight's catechesis was a teaching about the Lord's Prayer, an opportunity for our friends young and old to understand perhaps at a different level, a little bit about the relationship between God and his people. As it turned out, this was also a moment for adults among us to learn some valuable lessons about communication from our young friends.
The question was posed, 'thy will be done ... what's a will?' Answer (and this was offered freely by one of our young friends, 'something we write out when we die'. While this is indeed one possible interpretation for the word will, it wasn't the one we were looking for. Who knew that our young friends were such masters at the synonyms of the English language? Lesson learned: be careful about asking questions, especially about the words used to explain what you're thinking ... you never know who might be listening, and what interpretations they might attach to our utterances.
Children and adults alike learn the lessons we have to teach, often without even realizing that they're learning ... and that's the best part ... but the kids (and even their parents) aren't the only ones who learn from this experience. This year, we have invited a few new people to join us as members of the team who together transmit the message and inform children and adults about the lessons of faith, especially as they pertain to the Sacraments of Reconciliation and the Eucharist.
Included in tonight's catechesis was a teaching about the Lord's Prayer, an opportunity for our friends young and old to understand perhaps at a different level, a little bit about the relationship between God and his people. As it turned out, this was also a moment for adults among us to learn some valuable lessons about communication from our young friends.
The question was posed, 'thy will be done ... what's a will?' Answer (and this was offered freely by one of our young friends, 'something we write out when we die'. While this is indeed one possible interpretation for the word will, it wasn't the one we were looking for. Who knew that our young friends were such masters at the synonyms of the English language? Lesson learned: be careful about asking questions, especially about the words used to explain what you're thinking ... you never know who might be listening, and what interpretations they might attach to our utterances.
Third time's a charm
For the third week in a row, we welcomed guests in the house for supper tonight. This time, the group included confreres who had also been present at our business meeting this afternoon.
When I moved into this establishment more than three years ago, I wanted these walls to become known (once again) as a place of welcome for all priests, and I'm happy to see that finally after a number of years, and with consistent deliberateness about welcoming visitors and strangers alike, some of my confreres are finally beginning to believe that what they see and feel about being welcomed here is not just a passing fancy. In fact it is reinforced by good food that is offered, time for relaxing in one another's company and beginning to trust one another enough to share bits and pieces of our lives.
Considering that last night was another moment for priestly fraternity to be shared and enjoyed, this week is turning out to be filled with moments of blessings, even in the midst of an otherwise wild and crazy pace of demands that are all too often placed upon our shoulders.
When I moved into this establishment more than three years ago, I wanted these walls to become known (once again) as a place of welcome for all priests, and I'm happy to see that finally after a number of years, and with consistent deliberateness about welcoming visitors and strangers alike, some of my confreres are finally beginning to believe that what they see and feel about being welcomed here is not just a passing fancy. In fact it is reinforced by good food that is offered, time for relaxing in one another's company and beginning to trust one another enough to share bits and pieces of our lives.
Considering that last night was another moment for priestly fraternity to be shared and enjoyed, this week is turning out to be filled with moments of blessings, even in the midst of an otherwise wild and crazy pace of demands that are all too often placed upon our shoulders.
When the parusia arrives
Have you ever had the experience of sitting in on a meeting that you know will be an absolute waste of time? The truth is that meetings such as these are pariah when it comes to using scarce resources (such as time) and trying to use them in the most wise manner.
One of my mentors once used to remark (especially when he was caught in the midst of a marathon of meetings) that 'the parusia is coming, and when it arrives I'll be at a meeting'. Meetings are good things. They allow us to brainstorm, to share ideas and to expand horizons based on shared wisdom, but they can also be exhausting if the energy created is not creative in and of itself.
Imagine our surprise when we discovered that this afternoon's meeting turned out to be anything but a waste of time. Among the highlights today there was a presentation made to the gathered priests by local members of Development and Peace, a Canadian organization who has recently had to face considerable fire over alegations (advanced by Lifesite News) of misappropriation of funds consigned to their care. In fact, a commission of inquiry was set up by the CCCB in order to investigate the allegations, and the result was an exoneration which D&P still has to work really hard at promoting so that the people in the pews might truly understand what really happened.
Having received the report of the Commission of Inquiry, the President of the CCCB also published his comments on the subject, but many in the trenches perhaps haven't heard about them until now.
Considering the fact that this was a kind of fact finding mission for most of us who were seated around the table, the converstion and the questions that ensued kept us all on the edge of our seats. What's clear is the need for D&P to continue their vigilence about promoting the reasons for their existence, something that is not all that easy considering the fact that many of the younger generations today haven't even heard of D&P much less their raison-d'être.
Papal encyclicals such as Populorum progressio and Solicitudo rei socialis which outlined the Church's teachings on social justice are the basis for the work of D&P and other such organizations throughout the world, but whereever there is good in the world, there are also challenges to this good. What's more, young people (teenagers and young adults) today have not even heard about the Church's social teachings, much less been exposed to the work of its organizations. Where there is lack of understanding, there is always room for confusion.
All this lays the foundation for D&P and their partners to do a whole lot more work to make themselves known before they and their achievements can be appreciated much less lauded and shared by the newest generations.
One of my mentors once used to remark (especially when he was caught in the midst of a marathon of meetings) that 'the parusia is coming, and when it arrives I'll be at a meeting'. Meetings are good things. They allow us to brainstorm, to share ideas and to expand horizons based on shared wisdom, but they can also be exhausting if the energy created is not creative in and of itself.
Imagine our surprise when we discovered that this afternoon's meeting turned out to be anything but a waste of time. Among the highlights today there was a presentation made to the gathered priests by local members of Development and Peace, a Canadian organization who has recently had to face considerable fire over alegations (advanced by Lifesite News) of misappropriation of funds consigned to their care. In fact, a commission of inquiry was set up by the CCCB in order to investigate the allegations, and the result was an exoneration which D&P still has to work really hard at promoting so that the people in the pews might truly understand what really happened.
Having received the report of the Commission of Inquiry, the President of the CCCB also published his comments on the subject, but many in the trenches perhaps haven't heard about them until now.
Considering the fact that this was a kind of fact finding mission for most of us who were seated around the table, the converstion and the questions that ensued kept us all on the edge of our seats. What's clear is the need for D&P to continue their vigilence about promoting the reasons for their existence, something that is not all that easy considering the fact that many of the younger generations today haven't even heard of D&P much less their raison-d'être.
Papal encyclicals such as Populorum progressio and Solicitudo rei socialis which outlined the Church's teachings on social justice are the basis for the work of D&P and other such organizations throughout the world, but whereever there is good in the world, there are also challenges to this good. What's more, young people (teenagers and young adults) today have not even heard about the Church's social teachings, much less been exposed to the work of its organizations. Where there is lack of understanding, there is always room for confusion.
All this lays the foundation for D&P and their partners to do a whole lot more work to make themselves known before they and their achievements can be appreciated much less lauded and shared by the newest generations.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
On the receiving end
The Vatican's declared Year for Priests is turning out to be an opportunity for many of you to find creative ways to say thanks.
While I for one find it a bit strange to be the focus of so much attention, there are some valuable lessons being learned as a result of this experience. For one thing, this year is making us more and more aware of the many ways our words and actions (small or significant) make a difference in so many people's lives ... and this is a very good thing because realizing the effect we have on so many helps me for one to understand that what I do and what I say does indeed make a difference.
Tonight, the parishioners of one of the local parishes invited a few of us priests to join them for an appreciation dinner. All the priests who were invited have played a part (either in some significant way or in a small manner) in helping the parishioners of this house of prayer to find God, to celebrate His goodness, and to experience his forgiveness.
Parishioners wanted to say thank you, and so they invited us to celebrate Mass with them, and then to join them for a meal. Each of us was invited to sit with some of the parishioners we know, to spend some time catching up with friends who perhaps we don't see often, and creating new memories by partaking in this night of celebration.
Stories were told of influences so many of us have had on the life of the parish and her members, and a wonderful mixture of formal and informal aspects of this evening made it a most enjoyable moment for us all.
Many people worked very hard to make this vision a reality; to all of them, we owe a word of thanks. It's moments like this that allow us all to step away from the sometimes crazy pace of life, to recognize the people in our lives who help us to recognize God in our midst, and to celebrate the goodness He shares with us so often.
May you be richly blessed for your generosity and dedication.
While I for one find it a bit strange to be the focus of so much attention, there are some valuable lessons being learned as a result of this experience. For one thing, this year is making us more and more aware of the many ways our words and actions (small or significant) make a difference in so many people's lives ... and this is a very good thing because realizing the effect we have on so many helps me for one to understand that what I do and what I say does indeed make a difference.
Tonight, the parishioners of one of the local parishes invited a few of us priests to join them for an appreciation dinner. All the priests who were invited have played a part (either in some significant way or in a small manner) in helping the parishioners of this house of prayer to find God, to celebrate His goodness, and to experience his forgiveness.
Parishioners wanted to say thank you, and so they invited us to celebrate Mass with them, and then to join them for a meal. Each of us was invited to sit with some of the parishioners we know, to spend some time catching up with friends who perhaps we don't see often, and creating new memories by partaking in this night of celebration.
Stories were told of influences so many of us have had on the life of the parish and her members, and a wonderful mixture of formal and informal aspects of this evening made it a most enjoyable moment for us all.
Many people worked very hard to make this vision a reality; to all of them, we owe a word of thanks. It's moments like this that allow us all to step away from the sometimes crazy pace of life, to recognize the people in our lives who help us to recognize God in our midst, and to celebrate the goodness He shares with us so often.
May you be richly blessed for your generosity and dedication.
Love ... in unexpected places
There's a building across the street that I get to visit every couple of weeks. Inside there are at least 40 or 50 people, all of whom have already worked for the greater part of their lives ... all of whom are now officially retired.
In some respects, they seem so distant from where I stand, but they are only across the street. Imagine the stories that could be shared, the lessons that could be learned if only we folk who are often so busy about our own lives were to spare a few moments to sit with some of these.
Too often, I too am guilty of rushing into the doors of that establishment, getting a job done, and then rushing out just to return to the whirlwind that exists back here in my 'normal' world. That pace has been going on for the past number of years, but finally I'm getting courageous enough to actually stop and smell the roses.
One of my neighbours who is also a priest shares the honour with me of visiting in this establishment each month. We celebrate Mass for those who can no longer safely venture outside their doors and onto the streets ... and they are always grateful for this simple act of generosity. Just looking at their faces, it's easy to see how much such a gesture means to them.
Today, one of the women came to me and asked whether I would visit with two of the residents once the Mass was complete, taking them the gift of the Eucharist. She would even accompany me so I wouldn't get lost in the building. Little did she know that in so doing, they would be the ones to give me the greatest of gifts. I spent about five minutes (or maybe ten) with each of them, and it was evident that my mere presence was enough to light up the eyes of two who perhaps had little else to be happy about that day. It's evident to me that these are people who genuinely care for one another, who love one another, and who like all wonderful grandparents, only desire to share love with others who might knock at their doors.
How often do we miss out on such blessings just because we don't take the time to stop, to smell the roses, to say hello, to risk the possiblity of making someone else's day just by being us, or of allowing another person to make a real difference in our day, just by being who they are?
In some respects, they seem so distant from where I stand, but they are only across the street. Imagine the stories that could be shared, the lessons that could be learned if only we folk who are often so busy about our own lives were to spare a few moments to sit with some of these.
Too often, I too am guilty of rushing into the doors of that establishment, getting a job done, and then rushing out just to return to the whirlwind that exists back here in my 'normal' world. That pace has been going on for the past number of years, but finally I'm getting courageous enough to actually stop and smell the roses.
One of my neighbours who is also a priest shares the honour with me of visiting in this establishment each month. We celebrate Mass for those who can no longer safely venture outside their doors and onto the streets ... and they are always grateful for this simple act of generosity. Just looking at their faces, it's easy to see how much such a gesture means to them.
Today, one of the women came to me and asked whether I would visit with two of the residents once the Mass was complete, taking them the gift of the Eucharist. She would even accompany me so I wouldn't get lost in the building. Little did she know that in so doing, they would be the ones to give me the greatest of gifts. I spent about five minutes (or maybe ten) with each of them, and it was evident that my mere presence was enough to light up the eyes of two who perhaps had little else to be happy about that day. It's evident to me that these are people who genuinely care for one another, who love one another, and who like all wonderful grandparents, only desire to share love with others who might knock at their doors.
How often do we miss out on such blessings just because we don't take the time to stop, to smell the roses, to say hello, to risk the possiblity of making someone else's day just by being us, or of allowing another person to make a real difference in our day, just by being who they are?
Monday, February 1, 2010
You spoke ... and I'm listening
People in the service sector are usually focused on making others comfortable, attending to their needs with little if any regard for their own. However, like all human interaction, those who focus uniquely on helping others, with no thought of their own needs have often found themselves in various stages of clinical burnout.
Some of you have commented in the past few days that I too need to learn how to balance my love for things computer (including blogging) with the daily demands to be present to those in need, and with the need for some personal space. Therefore, if I tend to be relatively absent from the pages of this blog in the coming days, I hope you will understand.
Don't worry, if there is something worth musing over, I'm sure I'll find the words to paint a picture or two, and hopefully there will be someone out in blogging cyberspace to read them, and for whom they will make at least a little bit of a difference.
Some of you have commented in the past few days that I too need to learn how to balance my love for things computer (including blogging) with the daily demands to be present to those in need, and with the need for some personal space. Therefore, if I tend to be relatively absent from the pages of this blog in the coming days, I hope you will understand.
Don't worry, if there is something worth musing over, I'm sure I'll find the words to paint a picture or two, and hopefully there will be someone out in blogging cyberspace to read them, and for whom they will make at least a little bit of a difference.
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