Moving to Substack

 I am moving on and trying my hand at the writing game on Substack.  Please come along with me.

Mild Musings

Learning to Listen

It seems you just never know when what appears to be a good idea is going to go badly. When the thought of beginning the new year by honoring Mary on her day of solemnity occurred to me, I was certain that only goodness would result.  It turns out that there were alternative learning goals at play. I am slowly coming to understand that all the voices in my head have merit and deserve my attention, even those that appear to be distracting me from desired results.  

Since my church home would not be having mass on January 1st, I opted for a return to the local diocesan church to celebrate Mary..  While I consider myself a “practicing Catholic” the practice is definitely on my own terms: MY church with the priests I prefer, singing the newer songs, and homilies that feed my spirit.  It is this closed-mindedness that created my urge to return to the neighborhood church.  If I was going to call myself Catholic, I had to be able to stand behind the word and everything it entailed.  I decided a day in advance where I would attend, located the time of mass and refused to entertain any negative notions of changing my mind. I was convinced that those wayward thoughts were distracting me from my spiritual goal.  I committed to the 9 AM mass and felt good about honoring Mary as my first act of the new year. 

I walked in the door and immediately felt that negative notion again when I saw older ladies in the vestibule paying homage to the priest of whom I had never laid eyes on before.  It could be that he was completely innocent but I doubted it. I just didn’t like the hierarchical feeling I was getting of HIM and us.  I tried my best to ignore it and found a seat on the side (out of visual range of the priest and near enough to the door if I felt the need to flee).  The priest made an announcement about an opening song located on page whatever.  It had no meaning to me because there were no hymnals around.  It turned out I could have sung it because it was “O Come All Ye Faithful.” But this was an O Come All Ye Faithful in name only.  It turns out that even a joyous Christmas song can resemble a funeral dirge when sung slowly enough with no accompaniment.  Strike 2.  

As I walked in, I had been awed by the size of the creche that was located, oddly enough, directly behind the altar.  Actually, it was impossible not to see it, it took up most of the space and could easily be called imposing.  But then I began to take in the rest of the environment.  Angels suspended from above, one on a tapestry and the other in tulle, outlined in gold and blinking lights.  There were gigantic wreaths on each side of the chapel also draped in chasing lights that are typically only seen on the exterior of houses.  Where am I?  What has happened to my neighborhood church?  I know that the liturgical Christmas decor is white and gold  but I’ve never seen it accentuated with so many blinking lights.  I could only imagine the impact this might have on excited children on Christmas Eve thinking only about the first Christmas gift to be unwrapped.  

The readings were done by a gentleman dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans and then came the homily which seemed to have come verbatim from the fourth grade CCD catechism.  Come to church, honor Mary, be good.  I was just about to tune completely out when, lo and behold it got worse.  The offering baskets appeared.  You’re collecting money on the Solemnity of Mary? I looked for the door but Jesus held me in my seat with, as usual, his timely words of advice.  You came for Eucharist, you’re so close.  Stay and hang out with me for just a few minutes more.  Jesus does have his way with words.  The Eucharistic Minister processed in with the ciborium like a scene from “The Crown” but I just couldn’t see the humor (or honor) in any of it.  All I could think was this is why the young have left the church and why I choose to worship at the University.  

Somehow I managed to receive the consecrated host but not before it was held dramatically above my head and ceremonially dropped into my cupped hands. I don’t think this was what Jesus had in mind at the Last Supper.  I returned to my seat and prayed for the church, the pope and anyone else I thought might find this all as ludicrous as I did.  Eucharist, prayer, final blessing?  Can I go now?  Oh no.  The pastor can’t pass up any chance to remind the congregants of his status so now he takes center stage.  For the life of me I have no recollection of his message although I suppose his presence was the object.  It was now that I headed for the side door as the priest encouraged us all to sing “What Child is This?; again, acapella.  The result was not a pleasing sound.  I breathed deeply as I emerged from the sanctuary and stepped into the chilly air.  This was for you, Mary.  Blessed are you.  

On the way home, I worked at finding the lessons learned.

• There is no need to feel obligated to go to mass because the Church put it on a calendar  

• Listen when the bishop says the obligation is lifted as the holy day is on a Monday.

• There is no need to search for an alternative church when you already have what feeds your spirit.

• The next time you tell a friend of your worship plans and she raises her eyebrows, think again.  

• Even what appear to be negative distracted thoughts have an important message to tell you

• The prayer life you have in your back bedroom is better than all the giant creches and lit angels in the world.

• Honoring Mary does not require a special building

• The Eucharist is always worth the wait

Let Me Linger Here With God

 My morning prayer often unintentionally takes its sweet time to come around to a natural stopping place and I like it that way. A few years ago, experiencing the Spiritual Exercises introduced me to this new feeling of comfort and familiarity with my Creator. As God settled in with me and I with God day after day, I came to appreciate my own lack of concern for the time or other obligations. The experience of being with God was just too good; it was hard to let go of it. So I stayed.  This was the joy of being retired and at the time knowing very few people in the neighborhood. There was little on my agenda and truly no other place I would rather be.

Just the word linger has a feeling of slowness to it. It is like sitting in an overstuffed chair and feeling it close in around and hold you in place. It is as if the sides of the chairs have become giant arms caressing you like a familiar friend. As the minutes pass by, I even find myself saying the words, "Let me linger here with God." And I never ever regret the extra minutes spent with my Beloved. I simply sit in the silence listening for more or waiting for the moment that I am ready to say "Come with me into the day."

I recall the beginning of this ritual like it was yesterday. As I awoke one morning, I greeted God in thankfulness for the new day like I always did. Suddenly, I had the sensation of my entire body being lifted up and held in the open hands of my God much like you see new dads holding their tiny newborns. The difference in size between the hands of God and my adult body felt like the exact same ratio. I felt myself fall into this position of love and safety and relax.  I softly nuzzled the side of my face against the oversized fingers and took it all in; the warmth, the softness, the security of this place to call home. For months afterwards I would call of this image and sensation of being held each morning and especially if I woke during the night. I came to look forward to this extra time with God, lingering.  It has been several years since I have felt any regrets about 3 AM wake up calls for no apparent reason.  They are always another chance to be held in God's loving embrace, my body curled up into the folds of his hands.  

And so I linger as I feel my morning prayer ritual come to a close.  Just a few more minutes, just a little bit longer.  The I and me, the lover and the beloved holding each other's gaze as we turn and together greet the day.  

Micah 6:8 In My Own Words

There's a song that's been in my head for a couple weeks and to be completely honest, it has worn out its welcome. We Are Called

I've talked it over with friends, family, and my spiritual guide with no change in its daily appearance. So it must be time to break it down into my own words. Some of the lyrics will be familiar to you because they are taken directly from Micah 6:8

We are called to act with justice, to love tenderly and to walk humbly with God.

These words are so familiar but what do they mean, really? Some of us grew up with them and memorized them. We sing them in church, we even see them painted on school walls. As Jesus would say later hundreds of years later, "It is mercy, I desire, not sacrifice." These 16 words are the simplest form in which God could call us to discipleship and worship. Believe it or not, God was not in search of rams or doves or rivers of oil; God only wanted us to see what it was to act with justice, love and humility.

Act with Justice

We are called to be fair in all of our actions; honest and impartial, no matter whom we encounter. Treat each other as you would your mother or your siblings. That's right, if you wouldn't do it to your mom, don't do it to anyone else. In the words of Father Greg Boyle, SJ, "There is no other and them, only us." We are all one so our treatment of each person should be and must be universal. God calls us to see one another as God sees us. Each of us is uniquely and wonderfully made in the image of God. Every one of us carries the moniker, Beloved.

Love Tenderly (Kindness)

Our love for one another must be, above all else, generous and without end. Jesus modeled for us the limitlessness of God's love in his parables and actions. There is plenty to go around. Many westerners live their life with the scarcity model of money and goods but God's love is counter-cultural. God is lavish and unsparing with love for all. All are welcome. And included in that love is mercy and forgiveness. Just like God's love, it is intended for everyone - no matter what. It too, has no boundaries.

Walk Humbly with God

We are invited to walk with God each and every day This is a relationship of accompaniment; God wants to be a part of our lives side by side, to mourn our sorrows and celebrate our joys. We walk together co-creating our life, each day finding ways to mesh God's will with our own free will. In our relationship, we bear in mind that we are the created alongside of the Creator.  We acknowledge the magnitude of God and attempt to follow in the footsteps of Jesus finding ways to control our own selfish wishes and desires. Daily, we return to this challenge of humility.

Act, love, walk are all verbs and all require action in relationship with one another and with our God. As we incorporate these actions into our lives and with one another, we are building community; the kingdom of God here on earth. Humans tend to want to make the call to discipleship difficult or more complicated by making up rules and expectations. But this is what's needed: acts of justice, love, and humility from each of us. No one said it would be easy but I'm excited to be bringing these words to life (and hopefully get the song out of my head).

TBD

 I, like every other human on the planet now or ever, am a work in progress.  The me that I am becoming is being sculpted and shaped into being by each passing day or event.  Every encounter I have with a person has the potential to change me and widen my view of the world if I am only willing to listen and take on his or her perspective. Author, Kelly Corrigan tells the story of her mother observing a gay couple and watched a young man lightly kiss the top of his partner's head and in the blink of an eye, she recognized how natural that simple act of affection was.  This is how we behave when we love another person, she mused; it is as normal as anything can be.  The relationship is not "wrong," the perspective was.  On any number of occasions, Jesus asked his disciples and followers to pay attention with the words, "All who have ears to hear, let them hear."  For two millennia we have been encouraged to listen, to heed, to notice, and to change our hearts.  Every day, I read an article or listen to a podcast and learn something new about a person, a belief system, and ultimately myself.  And I am changed for the better.

I'm changing every day and so is everyone else around me.  As much as we would very much like to take some of our friends and relatives and place them on a shelf to talk to later, the person you take down when you may be ready is not the one you left there to rest a few weeks or months or a Thanksgiving ago.  The growth has been ongoing in them as well as yourself.  Ten years ago, I began working at a Jesuit institution and I thought I finally understood what it meant to serve; I told everyone that I had been changed forever.  But it wasn't possible to just be; little did I know that I was becoming.  Two years ago I went through the Spiritual Exercises and I thought my life would never be the same.  This was it, I thought; I finally understood how God had been moving in my life.  I had the magic potion of discernment.  Last summer I went on pilgrimage and again was convinced this was it; I've got it now.  With each of these life changing events, we shout "Eureka!" and are convinced that we have at long last reached nirvana.  The truth of the matter is that while we have indeed grown in our spiritual practices, we are mistaken if we think we have arrived at some pre-determined finish line. 

When we allow God into our lives to work  in and through us, we give up all thought of there being an end point.  We are never "done."  Our new goal is to grow continually in faith and hope and love.  However, it is far from a direct path.  It is often two steps forward and one step back, but we're still one step ahead of where we were.  The secret is to stay open to God's voice no matter its source.  When we hear of a prayer practice or a new way of being in the world, we can try it on.  How does it feel?  Is it something that might bring us closer to God?  We can take the time to pray with it, talk to others about it and see how it fits into your life journey.  I am learning that as I develop my faith practice, my relationship with God is one that grows in depth as opposed to length.  I may be confronted with an issue that troubles me today and again in a few weeks but each time I come out on the other side at a deeper level of understanding.  So with each new encounter, let us dig deeper and keep discovering who we are becoming today and tomorrow.  

Pondering Privilege

 The term privilege has taken on a heavy weight in recent years as those of us who have had it begin to realize just how much of a difference it makes to those who don't.  In a recent air travel escapade the word came to linger with me and become a part of my spirituality.  Every now and then the mundane thoughts of my meandering mind somehow take on an existence in the holy.  

The short version of my air travel story is that a planeload of people disembarked in an unintended destination and were forced to wait many hours before they could be reunited with their loved ones in the scheduled airport.  As humans are prone to do, they look outside the box for solutions to problems and those with resources have a wider selection of tools from which to draw.  During the extended layover, several people chose to find their own transportation back home.  It was only as we re-entered the plane that we came to realize that those who accessed another option out were all those in first class; all those with privilege.  Personally, this thought landed with a thud as Uber-ing out had definitely been a thought that crossed my mind.  But I chose patience and trust in place of executing my personal will on a problem that already had a solution. This was definitely a moment of growth for me.

At times, thoughts like this stick around because I start seeing them lived out in many different avenues of life.  A few days later I was involved in a conversation about public education where the parent suggested that children of resourced (synonym for privileged) families are able to achieve success by being placed in accelerated or advance placement classes and hence avoid being placed in general population groupings. I immediately began thinking about all the euphemisms we have for privileged and resourced and the ways they/we have of negotiating the systems so the haves continue to be the haves and the have nots are left on the edges of society and economic growth.  As I continued to ponder this academic view of privilege I remembered by strong stance just last spring on limiting the incoming class size at Nativity school and suddenly the voice of privilege was my own.  I, too was playing a role in keeping out the "general population."  

As the word privilege evolved in my thoughts and transformed into resource, I indeed saw it everywhere.  Although I am a renter, I live in a fairly upscale part of town so it wasn't hard to locate.  The simple act of meeting a friend at our local rose garden was an exercise in seeing it played out.  When you think nothing of meeting in a place where other people who come, take selfies, you are living in the midst of privilege, resource, and an amazing gift of Creation.  Gradually, I was led to removing the labels and seeing all of this at God's gifts. We are the recipients and it is up to each of us to determine how to use these gifts and share them with others. I am deeply aware that my gifts have made it possible for me to retire, to donate money and goods, and to fly across the country to visit my family.  I am a person of privilege, the receiver of a generous God who gives lavish gifts.  I give thanks for this each day and continue to call myself to the mirror and ask what I am doing to share these resources of first class seats with those in coach on our metaphorical plane of life.  

Another Look at Freedom

 The value of freedom can have many interpretations and it is one that I have traditionally shied away from.  I embrace the notion of freedom under the umbrella of God's will vs free will.  But being raised in the midwest in the '50s, there was little opportunity to think about living with freedom as a value that might guide my life's path. I learned early in childhood the "right" way to do things so other options felt far outside of my understanding of the world. Ignatius brings us another definition of freedom by inviting us to indifference to all things in the world. This was a difficult concept for me to completely understand and accept. I was being told that I should neither prefer health or sickness, wealth or poverty, success or failure, a long or short life.  We lean into whatever brings us closer to God. Sadly, many times those things are sickness, poverty, failure, and a life cut short.  

But this past week, I came to understand yet another meaning of freedom.  Due to air travel delays and cancellations as well as an incoming hurricane, I made the decision to fly back home rather than to Florida to visit my mom.  This meant I would be home for a total of four days when the rest of the world thought I was away.  I immediately felt a sense of freedom, the freedom of obligations that the following week I would be introducing into my retirement plan.  I did not have the intention of secluding myself away so those people with whom I was in contact, I advised of my plans and anyone else who inquired about my safety from the hurricane, I also informed that I had returned home.  I scheduled a few social engagements over the four days but the euphoria of freedom continued to pervade my being. I began to think more deeply about this and embrace it as a new way of moving in the world.  What if I were able to lean into this feeling and find new ways to bring the sense of freedom into my life? I questioned my desire to lead from the comfort I find in a daily/weekly schedule.  This new approach did not throw the schedule away.  I still began each day with a potential list of things to do but the order and timeframe was no longer required.  I began to CHOOSE each item.  Right now I want to call my aunt, right now I want to read the paper.  I entered into each thing with greater desire and somethings just didn't get done on the day they were anticipated. But gradually, I came to trust myself and know that the things that needed doing were done.  There it is!  The key word is trust. Trust in God, trust in me, trust in our relationship that I will be led exactly where I need to be.