Do everything calmly and peacefully. Do as much as you can as well as you can. Strive to see God in all things without exception, and consent to His will joyously. Do everything for God, uniting yourself to him in word and deed. Walk very simply with the Cross of the Lord and be at peace with yourself.
- St. Francis de Sales
"The Lord is my light and my salvation.
Though an army encamp against me,
my heart will not fear;
Though war be waged upon me,
even then will I trust."
- PS 27:1, 2, 3, 13-14
"Not where I breathe, but where I love, I live."
- Robert Southwell, SJ
I have been thinking about what it means to be unflappable lately. How could I actually become this calm fortress that will not lash back or cower or sink low or lose sight of my goals? Yes, I will slip; we all will. But how can I become a better friend, teacher, daughter, and twenty-something adult? I want to feel at peace and be less like a reed in the wind, bending to the moods of my students and the challenges and pitfalls of my days. I feel as though I feel strongest when God is with me and when I specifically hand over my needs to him. Allow me to be pliant to You, Lord, so that You can shape me into someone strong to help others.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Tuesday, 03.26.13
I feel sad today as I consider how I have not written an entry for almost a week--and of course, it is the last week of Lent. Therefore I feel a particularly strong connection to the disciples in today's gospel, with both Peter and Judas. I let myself down, time and again, as I make mistakes and don't go to the gym tonight or send that package on time this weekend or complete my whole-week lesson outline before the week commences. I didn't do enough. I let myself down. I may even have let someone else down. But ultimately, God is at the bottom, the top, the sides, the core of this sense of inadequacy. He says You are enough and You always will be for me, for "The LORD called me from birth, from my mother’s womb he gave me my name" (IS 49: 1-6). He has been and He always will be with me, even at low points like the middle of the week of school right before Spring Break.
I'm tired, my students are tired, and we're all ready for break. Renew us, Lord, and help all of Your children to feel Your redeeming love. We're all like Judas, the ultimate symbol of humiliation and weakness, and thus of the full potential of Your forgiveness. If Judas, the person who betrayed his beloved messiah, could fall so low, and still, still Christ's forgiveness could extend to the person who killed Him, then we are all saved. For a long time, I looked down with contempt at Judas, and it was only last year in a phenomenal class at Georgetown that I finally realized that I am Judas. When it feels like I betray myself and my God, even if it is not as extreme as Judas's actions, I am not alone and I am loved.
Sustain me, ever more, O, Lord, my God.
I'm tired, my students are tired, and we're all ready for break. Renew us, Lord, and help all of Your children to feel Your redeeming love. We're all like Judas, the ultimate symbol of humiliation and weakness, and thus of the full potential of Your forgiveness. If Judas, the person who betrayed his beloved messiah, could fall so low, and still, still Christ's forgiveness could extend to the person who killed Him, then we are all saved. For a long time, I looked down with contempt at Judas, and it was only last year in a phenomenal class at Georgetown that I finally realized that I am Judas. When it feels like I betray myself and my God, even if it is not as extreme as Judas's actions, I am not alone and I am loved.
Sustain me, ever more, O, Lord, my God.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Wednesday, 03.20.13
Jesus said to those Jews who believed in him,
“If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples,
and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”
- JN 8:31-42
Interestingly enough, I immediately thought of Mumford and Sons when I read today's gospel. I feel called to this idea of being liberated by truth, but simultaneously the scholar in me questions if there is such a thing as truth in a world steeped in bias and subjectivity. I love this idea that God alone knows the truth because He is the only one outside of our reality and infused in every part of our reality.
Perhaps that is a philosophic start, but the second thing that struck me about this verse is that Jesus is talking to the Jews who already believe in Him. There seems to be a call not only to read "[his] word" but to know "[his] word." I am envisioning a resolute scholar poring over scripture again and again and again, relentlessly seeking the "truth." Then I visualize Mother Teresa living the scripture to the extent that she finds the truth of Christ in the eyes and words and actions of people. Isn't that true liberation through the Holy Spirit? Perhaps God will bless me with even glimmers of the truth in the midst of struggles to transcend my weaknesses and prejudices and selfishness.
Lord, help me to break through my stubbornness to be open to Your truth and to have the wisdom to act on Your truth.
“If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples,
and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”
- JN 8:31-42
Interestingly enough, I immediately thought of Mumford and Sons when I read today's gospel. I feel called to this idea of being liberated by truth, but simultaneously the scholar in me questions if there is such a thing as truth in a world steeped in bias and subjectivity. I love this idea that God alone knows the truth because He is the only one outside of our reality and infused in every part of our reality.
Perhaps that is a philosophic start, but the second thing that struck me about this verse is that Jesus is talking to the Jews who already believe in Him. There seems to be a call not only to read "[his] word" but to know "[his] word." I am envisioning a resolute scholar poring over scripture again and again and again, relentlessly seeking the "truth." Then I visualize Mother Teresa living the scripture to the extent that she finds the truth of Christ in the eyes and words and actions of people. Isn't that true liberation through the Holy Spirit? Perhaps God will bless me with even glimmers of the truth in the midst of struggles to transcend my weaknesses and prejudices and selfishness.
Lord, help me to break through my stubbornness to be open to Your truth and to have the wisdom to act on Your truth.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Tuesday, 03.19.13
The most amazing thing happened today: I began to feel hopeful about next year. I wasn't super confident about today's lesson, but all of a sudden, I could think about ten different ways that my lesson was much stronger than it would have been at the beginning of the year. I saw progress in my planning and in my teaching; it was magically reflected in my students being very on-track today. For the first time in... a long time, perhaps even ever, I did not need to have one-on-one behavior conversations because overall everyone was for the most part meeting expectations in behavior and participation. I saw more hands and heard more voices, and as a result, I felt inspired.
Does this mean I suddenly LOVE teaching? that I am excited about my commitment to teach next year? No, this is still a very difficult career that I have not mastered. I just felt, somehow, that next year will be better than my darker months this year. I feel more comfortable in my teacher skin, and I think (hope) that will show in my classes.
In today's gospel, Joseph nobly and humbly accepts the challenge that God provides him with, and in the Georgetown Lenten reflection, a brilliant point is made that we, like Joseph, will fade into anonymity. Joseph briefly shines and then fades from the gospels, to the extent that we question how he spent the rest of his life. I reflected today that in many ways, I will probably be a brief phase in my students' lives so that years from now they might not even be able to describe me beyond saying, "Ya, she was my...English teacher I think, sometime in high school." It's amazing to think that as a teacher, my goal is always to increase my students' abilities and leadership and independence, so that they can think and work independently of the teacher. I hope that I can be humble like Joseph and find strength through God to do my very best for those I serve.
I'll conclude with the wonderful prayer from today's Georgetown Lenten reflection:
Loving and gracious God, source of gifts untold, thank You for all Your blessings. By the example of St. Joseph, may we learn the joys of serving You without expectation of praise or notice, laboring in shadows for righteousness. We long for this with humble hearts, and in Your name we pray, Amen.
Does this mean I suddenly LOVE teaching? that I am excited about my commitment to teach next year? No, this is still a very difficult career that I have not mastered. I just felt, somehow, that next year will be better than my darker months this year. I feel more comfortable in my teacher skin, and I think (hope) that will show in my classes.
In today's gospel, Joseph nobly and humbly accepts the challenge that God provides him with, and in the Georgetown Lenten reflection, a brilliant point is made that we, like Joseph, will fade into anonymity. Joseph briefly shines and then fades from the gospels, to the extent that we question how he spent the rest of his life. I reflected today that in many ways, I will probably be a brief phase in my students' lives so that years from now they might not even be able to describe me beyond saying, "Ya, she was my...English teacher I think, sometime in high school." It's amazing to think that as a teacher, my goal is always to increase my students' abilities and leadership and independence, so that they can think and work independently of the teacher. I hope that I can be humble like Joseph and find strength through God to do my very best for those I serve.
I'll conclude with the wonderful prayer from today's Georgetown Lenten reflection:
Loving and gracious God, source of gifts untold, thank You for all Your blessings. By the example of St. Joseph, may we learn the joys of serving You without expectation of praise or notice, laboring in shadows for righteousness. We long for this with humble hearts, and in Your name we pray, Amen.
Saturday-Monday, 03.17-9.13
The readings from Saturday, Sunday, and Monday are wonderfully rich with fruitful intersections. Jesus repeatedly defends himself against doubters; Susanna and the adulterous woman prompt us to question the wonderful yields of a trusting relationship with God; and the books of Jeremiah and Philippians challenge the reader to reflect in order to better understand our own choices and destiny.
I am struck by a common strength of spirit in these passages, for despite numerous obstacles, the followers of Christ and Christ himself persevere, only to find that in the process, the followers have been transformed into more spiritual and peaceful people. I find comfort in the idea that while the Lord is a "searcher of mind and heart" (JER 11:18-20), yet Christ also says that while "you judge by appearances...I do not judge anyone" (JN 8:12-20). How wonderful would it be to feel completely open and vulnerable to those we love and know that despite seeing the very, very worst and most shameful parts of ourselves, we are loved? It makes me think of one of my favorite Yeats quotes: "the tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul." While the sexual reference may initially distract us in a spiritual conversation, at the heart of this quote and these verses is a sense of yearning to be understood and fully known, then completely and utterly accepted. In fact, God uses the sexuality of Susanna and the adulterous woman to transform sexual sin and impurity--human weakness and corruption--into a gateway for a stronger relationship with Him; nothing can stand in God's way as He continues to build relationships with His children.
Rev. Stephen Spahn, S.J. writes in the Georgetown Lenten reflection for Sunday that the adulterous woman's decision to remain with Jesus after her persecutors have left is a remarkable act. She must have felt compelled and drawn towards Christ in some way--otherwise she most assuredly would have fled the scene of her near-death experience. I am awed by the strength of this woman and of Susanna to be publicly humiliated and judged, then held up and strengthened and cleansed by peace that comes only from God.
Please strengthen my spirit, Lord, and allow me to think and care less about the judgment of others. Let me work to make You, before all others, proud.
Amen.
I am struck by a common strength of spirit in these passages, for despite numerous obstacles, the followers of Christ and Christ himself persevere, only to find that in the process, the followers have been transformed into more spiritual and peaceful people. I find comfort in the idea that while the Lord is a "searcher of mind and heart" (JER 11:18-20), yet Christ also says that while "you judge by appearances...I do not judge anyone" (JN 8:12-20). How wonderful would it be to feel completely open and vulnerable to those we love and know that despite seeing the very, very worst and most shameful parts of ourselves, we are loved? It makes me think of one of my favorite Yeats quotes: "the tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul." While the sexual reference may initially distract us in a spiritual conversation, at the heart of this quote and these verses is a sense of yearning to be understood and fully known, then completely and utterly accepted. In fact, God uses the sexuality of Susanna and the adulterous woman to transform sexual sin and impurity--human weakness and corruption--into a gateway for a stronger relationship with Him; nothing can stand in God's way as He continues to build relationships with His children.
Rev. Stephen Spahn, S.J. writes in the Georgetown Lenten reflection for Sunday that the adulterous woman's decision to remain with Jesus after her persecutors have left is a remarkable act. She must have felt compelled and drawn towards Christ in some way--otherwise she most assuredly would have fled the scene of her near-death experience. I am awed by the strength of this woman and of Susanna to be publicly humiliated and judged, then held up and strengthened and cleansed by peace that comes only from God.
Please strengthen my spirit, Lord, and allow me to think and care less about the judgment of others. Let me work to make You, before all others, proud.
Amen.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Thursday, Friday 03.14-15.13
Friday 03.15.13
"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted."
- Ps. 34:9a
I find this psalm simple and fulfilling. Too often it takes a really low moment to pull me out of myself enough to seek God and His mercy, wisdom, and grace. While I sometimes hesitate to whine, cry, or lean on one person too much (will she still care about me? am I getting on his nerves? will she think I am weak?), it is mind boggling to truly understand that God will bear all of me. All of my worries, sins, fears, dreams, and craziness. Any part of me that is broken, He can and will see without flinching or hesitating or giving up on me.
Grant me peace and strengthen the bonds that tie us together, Lord.
Thursday 03.14.13
The gospel from Thursday is very interesting in the sense that Jesus highlights the relationship between faith and holy scripture. Indeed, He goes so far as to question if people are examining the text and placing their faith in it without consulting and trusting in God's wisdom. In today's world, when people regularly debate interpretations of what is really "moral" based on scripture, this gospel seems particularly pertinent. I can't help but question if enough people, including myself, go so far as to pray for insights and wisdom when reflecting on scripture. As a living and breathing text, the bible is the bedrock of many people's faith, and yet, we, weak humans that we are, have a tendency to twist the meanings to fit our desires. While I continue my Lenten journey, Lord, let me glean wisdom from the bible through You and with You.
"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted."
- Ps. 34:9a
I find this psalm simple and fulfilling. Too often it takes a really low moment to pull me out of myself enough to seek God and His mercy, wisdom, and grace. While I sometimes hesitate to whine, cry, or lean on one person too much (will she still care about me? am I getting on his nerves? will she think I am weak?), it is mind boggling to truly understand that God will bear all of me. All of my worries, sins, fears, dreams, and craziness. Any part of me that is broken, He can and will see without flinching or hesitating or giving up on me.
Grant me peace and strengthen the bonds that tie us together, Lord.
Thursday 03.14.13
The gospel from Thursday is very interesting in the sense that Jesus highlights the relationship between faith and holy scripture. Indeed, He goes so far as to question if people are examining the text and placing their faith in it without consulting and trusting in God's wisdom. In today's world, when people regularly debate interpretations of what is really "moral" based on scripture, this gospel seems particularly pertinent. I can't help but question if enough people, including myself, go so far as to pray for insights and wisdom when reflecting on scripture. As a living and breathing text, the bible is the bedrock of many people's faith, and yet, we, weak humans that we are, have a tendency to twist the meanings to fit our desires. While I continue my Lenten journey, Lord, let me glean wisdom from the bible through You and with You.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Wednesday, 03.13.13
“I cannot do anything on my own;
I judge as I hear, and my judgment is just,
because I do not seek my own will
but the will of the one who sent me.”
- JN 5:17-30
Today's gospel is a beautiful lesson in humility. Oddly enough, it fits really well with one of my favorite tv shows I caught up with today- Once Upon a Time. In the show, the characters struggle simultaneously with the sins of their parents and with their own pride, which, of course, is something we all struggle with. The images from today's readings and the show flash through my mind: bowing down before others, freeing prisoners, journeying afar, being shown mercy, giving into another's will, realizing that grace is a choice, finding the liberation of humility. It's all there, concise and true, unyielding in its wisdom.
Humility has been my lifelong struggle and so it continues to be. I want to praise God with all that I am and yet I too often give into what I want to do. I pray, Lord, that You will make me Your own and make my will submissive to Yours; only then will I be free. Teach me the lesson that Christ so beautifully learned and taught, that goodness stems from You and Your people are only powerful when they act under Your will.
I judge as I hear, and my judgment is just,
because I do not seek my own will
but the will of the one who sent me.”
- JN 5:17-30
Today's gospel is a beautiful lesson in humility. Oddly enough, it fits really well with one of my favorite tv shows I caught up with today- Once Upon a Time. In the show, the characters struggle simultaneously with the sins of their parents and with their own pride, which, of course, is something we all struggle with. The images from today's readings and the show flash through my mind: bowing down before others, freeing prisoners, journeying afar, being shown mercy, giving into another's will, realizing that grace is a choice, finding the liberation of humility. It's all there, concise and true, unyielding in its wisdom.
Humility has been my lifelong struggle and so it continues to be. I want to praise God with all that I am and yet I too often give into what I want to do. I pray, Lord, that You will make me Your own and make my will submissive to Yours; only then will I be free. Teach me the lesson that Christ so beautifully learned and taught, that goodness stems from You and Your people are only powerful when they act under Your will.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Tuesday 03.12.13
Ezekiel's story today at first bored me a little bit; it was long and contained what seemed be superfluous details. As I continued to read, however, I could visualize the river that wound across the land, the hope and life that sprung forth in its midst. I associate life with God, and the visual is a powerful one for me. I find myself picturing my beloved Potomac, with its rich banks and sights that I love on either side. Rivers are powerful for they transport people and goods, they break through the land, they nourish the land, and they provide a foundation as people navigate the land. In short, they connect and rejuvenate people.
Sometimes when I feel most alone, I am comforted because God brings someone into my life or back into my life. I do not doubt that He has blessed me with people to love and care for that have in turn done the same for me. Even when I feel cut off and alone, Lord, keep my eyes on Your grace and the power of Your love, that brings new life and love to all it touches.
Sometimes when I feel most alone, I am comforted because God brings someone into my life or back into my life. I do not doubt that He has blessed me with people to love and care for that have in turn done the same for me. Even when I feel cut off and alone, Lord, keep my eyes on Your grace and the power of Your love, that brings new life and love to all it touches.
Sunday 03.10.13 & Monday 03.11.13
So we are ambassadors for Christ,
as if God were appealing through us.
- 2 Cor 5:17-21
Sunday and Monday's readings are quite rich and therefore a bit difficult to reflect on. They made me question if I could ever truly be an "ambassador" of Christ; what it would be like to welcome fellow sinners with God's grace; what eternal life and joy would feel like; and how I would feel to have a tangible sign that God is real.
At the heart of all the readings (as in the whole bible), I think there is a play between hope and hopelessness, a sense of God saving us and of us losing sight of His grace. The reflection I read for Monday mentions the bleakness of March, with a question of will summer ever arrive? I was thinking about the sharp contrast in these readings from Sunday and Monday in terms of feeling the joy that only comes from God--pure and eternal--and feeling the sharp desolate nature of being cut off from our Father. Throughout this year, I've romanticized certain periods of my life and victimized myself in the present, all as an attempt to cope. When I think about the joy that awaits me this summer with a much-needed break, I find it difficult to remain energized and joyful now, in the present. When I think about seeing loved ones suffer, seeing sin recur in my actions, and seeing no success where I have planted with hard work, I almost succumb to this sense of hopelessness. I feel so grateful to know that God, however, will not give into that hopelessness. Even when all my actions could and perhaps even should cause Him to lose hope in me, He prevails and continues to make me a better person.
Plant a sense of love, hope, and peace in me, Lord, so that I may share it, as an ambassador, with others.
as if God were appealing through us.
- 2 Cor 5:17-21
Sunday and Monday's readings are quite rich and therefore a bit difficult to reflect on. They made me question if I could ever truly be an "ambassador" of Christ; what it would be like to welcome fellow sinners with God's grace; what eternal life and joy would feel like; and how I would feel to have a tangible sign that God is real.
At the heart of all the readings (as in the whole bible), I think there is a play between hope and hopelessness, a sense of God saving us and of us losing sight of His grace. The reflection I read for Monday mentions the bleakness of March, with a question of will summer ever arrive? I was thinking about the sharp contrast in these readings from Sunday and Monday in terms of feeling the joy that only comes from God--pure and eternal--and feeling the sharp desolate nature of being cut off from our Father. Throughout this year, I've romanticized certain periods of my life and victimized myself in the present, all as an attempt to cope. When I think about the joy that awaits me this summer with a much-needed break, I find it difficult to remain energized and joyful now, in the present. When I think about seeing loved ones suffer, seeing sin recur in my actions, and seeing no success where I have planted with hard work, I almost succumb to this sense of hopelessness. I feel so grateful to know that God, however, will not give into that hopelessness. Even when all my actions could and perhaps even should cause Him to lose hope in me, He prevails and continues to make me a better person.
Plant a sense of love, hope, and peace in me, Lord, so that I may share it, as an ambassador, with others.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Saturday 03.09.13
He will come to us like the rain.
- Hos. 6:1-6
My sacrifice, O God, is a contrite spirit
- Ps. 51:3-4, 18-19, 20-21AB
For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled,
and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.
- Lk. 18:9-14
Humility is hard for me to master. I am too self-critical while also being too self-righteous. I think that my pride does sneak in, without me noticing, as I try to process information, confront my conscience, and examine the complexity of my motivations and my weaknesses. The gospel, therefore, is highly relevant to me and my life. It also achieves a paradox of simplicity in its message: God makes loving Him sound easy--perhaps too easy. We are told that we do not need to accomplish great things nor give things we are not capable of; we merely need to lower our guards and our self-centric mentalities to focus on Him and let Him into our hearts. God, strengthen the part of me that follows You and engender humility in my actions.
- Hos. 6:1-6
My sacrifice, O God, is a contrite spirit
- Ps. 51:3-4, 18-19, 20-21AB
For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled,
and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.
- Lk. 18:9-14
Humility is hard for me to master. I am too self-critical while also being too self-righteous. I think that my pride does sneak in, without me noticing, as I try to process information, confront my conscience, and examine the complexity of my motivations and my weaknesses. The gospel, therefore, is highly relevant to me and my life. It also achieves a paradox of simplicity in its message: God makes loving Him sound easy--perhaps too easy. We are told that we do not need to accomplish great things nor give things we are not capable of; we merely need to lower our guards and our self-centric mentalities to focus on Him and let Him into our hearts. God, strengthen the part of me that follows You and engender humility in my actions.
Thursday and Friday 03.07-08.13
Every kingdom divided against itself will be laid waste
and house will fall against house.
- Luke 11:14-23
Lord, You are my inspiration and the example by which I desire to lead my life. Please give me the strength and courage to actively and fearlessly love those around me in a way that Your light would shine through me. Help me to have a spirit of service and dedication to Your work here in earth. Amen
- Georgetown Lenten Reflection
Fall in love with God and embrace, with gratitude, everything that you have been given. Practice loving him by engaging in quiet contemplation and prayer. Stay in love with God by serving him absolutely.
- Georgetown Lenten Reflection (Elizabeth Arsenault)
I feel touched by the Thursday and Friday readings in the sense that they seem to communicate powerfully with one another--and me. I think the perhaps initially harsh seeming message of God for His people to actually follow Him can inspire hope. Does not God know that we need a loud, commanding voice at times to shake us, prompt us, move us? The readings gracefully and mightily point out our laziness and stubbornness as we tune out a clear message to love. Love, love, love--words that now seem trite, cliche, and empty in their commonness. God's promise of absolute, unwavering, unmatched love is hard to hear, see, and understand. We want proof, we want examples, we want sure knowledge, we want first-hand experience of that which we believe in. Yet, God's love cannot be exactly recreated in any human relationship and our imaginations struggle to process and believe in His kind of love.
Let me seek You out, Lord, in the ways I try to love others and in those glimpses of Your love that others have shown to me. Bring me and mine peace this week.
and house will fall against house.
- Luke 11:14-23
Lord, You are my inspiration and the example by which I desire to lead my life. Please give me the strength and courage to actively and fearlessly love those around me in a way that Your light would shine through me. Help me to have a spirit of service and dedication to Your work here in earth. Amen
- Georgetown Lenten Reflection
Fall in love with God and embrace, with gratitude, everything that you have been given. Practice loving him by engaging in quiet contemplation and prayer. Stay in love with God by serving him absolutely.
- Georgetown Lenten Reflection (Elizabeth Arsenault)
I feel touched by the Thursday and Friday readings in the sense that they seem to communicate powerfully with one another--and me. I think the perhaps initially harsh seeming message of God for His people to actually follow Him can inspire hope. Does not God know that we need a loud, commanding voice at times to shake us, prompt us, move us? The readings gracefully and mightily point out our laziness and stubbornness as we tune out a clear message to love. Love, love, love--words that now seem trite, cliche, and empty in their commonness. God's promise of absolute, unwavering, unmatched love is hard to hear, see, and understand. We want proof, we want examples, we want sure knowledge, we want first-hand experience of that which we believe in. Yet, God's love cannot be exactly recreated in any human relationship and our imaginations struggle to process and believe in His kind of love.
Let me seek You out, Lord, in the ways I try to love others and in those glimpses of Your love that others have shown to me. Bring me and mine peace this week.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Wednesday, 03.06.13
“However, take care and be earnestly on your guard
not to forget the things which your own eyes have seen,
nor let them slip from your memory as long as you live,
but teach them to your children and to your children’s children.”
DT 4:5-9
Today's readings made me consider the shifting social mores of our time; by the time my "children" and my "children's children" arrive, our world will be a radically different place than the Victorian era I so love to study, my grandmother's world, my mother's world, and the world of my childhood.
Statistics abound that prove we are shifting towards a ME-centred society and that social ills are, if anything, rising. As the institution of marriage degenerates into common divorce and torn apart families, as petty crimes becomes norms, as young people have the choice to enter casual flings, take casual drugs, and casually move far from home, we as a society are forced to re-centre ourselves in shifting times and re-prioritize what matters most to us. We must examine God's laws, as Jesus did, and decide what our response to pressing topical issues and personal tragedies will be; we must decide what it means to interpret a living, breathing text in the face of more and more adversity. In other words, I must decide what it means to be Christian when I am pulled in a variety of directions, and at the heart of that need, I must follow my conscience and above all else, my God.
Guide my heart in tumultuous times and dampen my desire to do as I wish; instead, magnetize my core values to follow Your true North, towards a godly life and a humble path. Strengthen my faith and allow me to turn inwards in the face of new challenges.
not to forget the things which your own eyes have seen,
nor let them slip from your memory as long as you live,
but teach them to your children and to your children’s children.”
DT 4:5-9
Today's readings made me consider the shifting social mores of our time; by the time my "children" and my "children's children" arrive, our world will be a radically different place than the Victorian era I so love to study, my grandmother's world, my mother's world, and the world of my childhood.
Statistics abound that prove we are shifting towards a ME-centred society and that social ills are, if anything, rising. As the institution of marriage degenerates into common divorce and torn apart families, as petty crimes becomes norms, as young people have the choice to enter casual flings, take casual drugs, and casually move far from home, we as a society are forced to re-centre ourselves in shifting times and re-prioritize what matters most to us. We must examine God's laws, as Jesus did, and decide what our response to pressing topical issues and personal tragedies will be; we must decide what it means to interpret a living, breathing text in the face of more and more adversity. In other words, I must decide what it means to be Christian when I am pulled in a variety of directions, and at the heart of that need, I must follow my conscience and above all else, my God.
Guide my heart in tumultuous times and dampen my desire to do as I wish; instead, magnetize my core values to follow Your true North, towards a godly life and a humble path. Strengthen my faith and allow me to turn inwards in the face of new challenges.
Tuesday, 03.05.13
I must admit that today's gospel disturbs me with its ominous ending. God transcends our economic understandings of equality, fairness, and justice; then He exacts justice on someone who forsook his mercy to hurt another. It's always hard for me to meld God's finality in the gospel in terms of offering numerous chances and unfathomable forgiveness before finally, inevitably, casting judgment. His grace is never-ending--until, it seems, the parable must end with the clear consequence depicted.
Perhaps I am over-thinking this. Clearly, we have grown up with an understanding that there is a heaven and a hell, a balance between opportunities to convert and change and then the end of life when a decision must be reached--will we follow God and His ways or not? Yet some part of me sees God in such a positive, awe-inspiring light that it is difficult to imagine and accept His holy justice and firm hand. As a teacher, never have I so clearly understood the need for clearly communicated consequences, and yet I find peace in knowing that nothing I do will or could ever push God away from me. He will not leave nor shall he give up on me, us, anyone--until one of us dies without repenting. Do you see what I mean? It's difficult to synthesize even whilst the justice is clear.
All I know is that God has forged a way that enables Him to be with us in flesh and temptation, weakness and degradation, so always, Lord, shape me so that I may ask:
with contrite heart and humble spirit
let us be received
DN 3:25, 34-43
Perhaps I am over-thinking this. Clearly, we have grown up with an understanding that there is a heaven and a hell, a balance between opportunities to convert and change and then the end of life when a decision must be reached--will we follow God and His ways or not? Yet some part of me sees God in such a positive, awe-inspiring light that it is difficult to imagine and accept His holy justice and firm hand. As a teacher, never have I so clearly understood the need for clearly communicated consequences, and yet I find peace in knowing that nothing I do will or could ever push God away from me. He will not leave nor shall he give up on me, us, anyone--until one of us dies without repenting. Do you see what I mean? It's difficult to synthesize even whilst the justice is clear.
All I know is that God has forged a way that enables Him to be with us in flesh and temptation, weakness and degradation, so always, Lord, shape me so that I may ask:
with contrite heart and humble spirit
let us be received
DN 3:25, 34-43
Monday, March 4, 2013
Monday, 03.04.13
Send forth your light and your fidelity;
they shall lead me on
And bring me to your holy mountain,
to your dwelling-place.
- Ps. 42-43
Though I chose to quote today's psalm, which I found to be peaceful and soothing, I found the gospel also quite moving. Like Elisha and Jesus, I at times feel quite misunderstood, as though my motives are not seen by others, my actions misinterpreted, my words twisted. These things happen unintentionally most of the time (and the worst, intentionally at others), but at the heart of it is a disability to get beyond one's own point of view. I love literature precisely because it forces me to think about others and their motivations, points of view, difficulties, and ways of thinking. Just as others seem to misunderstand me, so I misunderstand them. Let me try to remove my self-interest, biases, and preconceptions so that I may form loving, supporting relationships with others. Please also help me to see Your hand in my life with grace and goodwill, rather than suspicion and resentment when things are not going my way. Let me know that You are here and on my side.
they shall lead me on
And bring me to your holy mountain,
to your dwelling-place.
- Ps. 42-43
Though I chose to quote today's psalm, which I found to be peaceful and soothing, I found the gospel also quite moving. Like Elisha and Jesus, I at times feel quite misunderstood, as though my motives are not seen by others, my actions misinterpreted, my words twisted. These things happen unintentionally most of the time (and the worst, intentionally at others), but at the heart of it is a disability to get beyond one's own point of view. I love literature precisely because it forces me to think about others and their motivations, points of view, difficulties, and ways of thinking. Just as others seem to misunderstand me, so I misunderstand them. Let me try to remove my self-interest, biases, and preconceptions so that I may form loving, supporting relationships with others. Please also help me to see Your hand in my life with grace and goodwill, rather than suspicion and resentment when things are not going my way. Let me know that You are here and on my side.
Friday, Saturday, Sunday
Sunday, 03.03.13
I had a lovely time discussing today's gospel with my faith sharing group. We found comfort and even solace in the idea that God will not give up on us, even when logic shows that we deserve to be given up on. If I do not do a good enough job at work, if I fail someone I care about, if I continue to repeat my sins, if I refuse to listen to God because I do not want to hear what He has to say--none of this would be enough for Him to give up on me.
Sometimes I think the saddest part of human relationships is their fragility, their very nature which suggests there are finite limits to forgiveness, mercy, and love. As a society we juxtapose romantic comedies with shows about scandal and sin in families: what is the reality of a "good" family and how can we find that for ourselves? How can I try to live my life after God's mercy while maintaining boundaries for healthy relationships? How can we lose sight of ourselves long enough to see why people act the way they do rather than shutting down at their mistakes?
Foster Your grace and mercy in me, Lord. Though I often feel inadequate, rejuvenate me in the knowledge that I am always enough for You.
_________________________________________________
Saturday, 03.02.13
The parable of the prodigal son never fails to make me uncomfortable. Not, of course, because it is an inadequate or terrible story, but because it is too true, too close, too intrusive. I used to envision myself as the faithful brother, who becomes jealous at his brother's return; it was difficult for me to relate to the brother who did not think ahead and make clear plans but rather ran about and acted selfishly. It took me a long, long time--until two years or so ago--to realize that I am the returning brother.
Does not that suggest my own foolish pride? Does that not confirm the very need for the story? I can look at the prodigal son and see a foolish boy, and yet, looking at my own actions, I lack the same clear vision. The Georgetown Lenten reflection included the following words of Pope Benedict in conjunction with the gospel: “Heaven is always more than we can merit, just as being loved is never something merited, but always a gift.” The story of the prodigal son pushes my thinking, every time I read it; even as I skim over the words, asking, "This story- again?", I simultaneously feel it take hold of me. God's redemption, in the face of solid proof, hit-you-over-the-head proof, that the son, we, do not deserve that redemption.
I hope to be the son who humbly asks for forgiveness after making many, many mistakes. Curb my self-righteousness, open my heart, and allow me to come home to You daily, Lord.
_________________________________________________
Friday, 03.01.13
The sacrifices of Joseph and of the vineyard owner's son make me feel a bit remote and sad--do I doubt that humankind is capable of such depravity? No. That I am capable of such depravity? No. Sometimes I feel isolated in the sense that the human condition requires that we struggle to not think of merely ourselves. Me, me, me, me, me. That word pervades my thoughts, my focus, my way of thinking.
The Georgetown Lenten reflection mentions the need of Joseph to follow his path and overcome adversity so that he may stay focused on God's purpose for him. I ask that God renew my purpose, whatever it may be, and to tear my attention away from myself. Let me put You and others first, before my own comforts and selfish thoughts. Harvest Your generosity of spirit in me.
I had a lovely time discussing today's gospel with my faith sharing group. We found comfort and even solace in the idea that God will not give up on us, even when logic shows that we deserve to be given up on. If I do not do a good enough job at work, if I fail someone I care about, if I continue to repeat my sins, if I refuse to listen to God because I do not want to hear what He has to say--none of this would be enough for Him to give up on me.
Sometimes I think the saddest part of human relationships is their fragility, their very nature which suggests there are finite limits to forgiveness, mercy, and love. As a society we juxtapose romantic comedies with shows about scandal and sin in families: what is the reality of a "good" family and how can we find that for ourselves? How can I try to live my life after God's mercy while maintaining boundaries for healthy relationships? How can we lose sight of ourselves long enough to see why people act the way they do rather than shutting down at their mistakes?
Foster Your grace and mercy in me, Lord. Though I often feel inadequate, rejuvenate me in the knowledge that I am always enough for You.
_________________________________________________
Saturday, 03.02.13
The parable of the prodigal son never fails to make me uncomfortable. Not, of course, because it is an inadequate or terrible story, but because it is too true, too close, too intrusive. I used to envision myself as the faithful brother, who becomes jealous at his brother's return; it was difficult for me to relate to the brother who did not think ahead and make clear plans but rather ran about and acted selfishly. It took me a long, long time--until two years or so ago--to realize that I am the returning brother.
Does not that suggest my own foolish pride? Does that not confirm the very need for the story? I can look at the prodigal son and see a foolish boy, and yet, looking at my own actions, I lack the same clear vision. The Georgetown Lenten reflection included the following words of Pope Benedict in conjunction with the gospel: “Heaven is always more than we can merit, just as being loved is never something merited, but always a gift.” The story of the prodigal son pushes my thinking, every time I read it; even as I skim over the words, asking, "This story- again?", I simultaneously feel it take hold of me. God's redemption, in the face of solid proof, hit-you-over-the-head proof, that the son, we, do not deserve that redemption.
I hope to be the son who humbly asks for forgiveness after making many, many mistakes. Curb my self-righteousness, open my heart, and allow me to come home to You daily, Lord.
_________________________________________________
Friday, 03.01.13
The sacrifices of Joseph and of the vineyard owner's son make me feel a bit remote and sad--do I doubt that humankind is capable of such depravity? No. That I am capable of such depravity? No. Sometimes I feel isolated in the sense that the human condition requires that we struggle to not think of merely ourselves. Me, me, me, me, me. That word pervades my thoughts, my focus, my way of thinking.
The Georgetown Lenten reflection mentions the need of Joseph to follow his path and overcome adversity so that he may stay focused on God's purpose for him. I ask that God renew my purpose, whatever it may be, and to tear my attention away from myself. Let me put You and others first, before my own comforts and selfish thoughts. Harvest Your generosity of spirit in me.
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