The Dirtiest Word, Part Five

“Come now, let us settle the matter,”
    says the Lord.
“Though your sins are like scarlet,
    they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red as crimson,
    they shall be like wool.  Isaiah 1:18

In the Community Catholic Church, reconciliation is joyful, whether it takes place in the context of the Eucharist or Mass, or whether it is received as a sacrament in its own right.

During the Mass, we invite those present to consider their sins and to express their contrition in prayer.  The entrance rites include a confession and absolution of sin.  For some people, this confession serves their need for forgiveness.

Sometimes, people need or want a more personal experience of forgiveness.  In that case, they can request the sacrament of reconciliation, often before a regular Mass or by appointment.  In the sacrament, after a brief prayer or scripture, the penitent will confess their sin and receive absolution through the words of the priest.  Normally, this is followed by a brief reassurance of God's love and the penitent's own goodness and worthiness.  It is a very affirming experience, as it should be.  After all, we are God's own children, cherished and loved more than we could ever imagine.

It is the job of the church to share this good news with everyone, that God loves us always and forever, that we are all one family united by this love.  Anytime the words or sacraments of the church leave us feeling anything less, there's a problem in the church. 

The Dirtiest Word, Part Four

(Continuing the series begun Nov. 1)

Why would anyone in their right mind want to seek out a Catholic priest to receive the sacrament of reconciliation when we already know that God always forgives us when we ask?

One reason is that the sacrament is scriptural, given to us by Christ Himself.  In John 20, we read the story of Jesus's resurrection from the dead.  He appears to Mary and later that day joins the apostles where they had gathered together.

Now when it was late that same day, the first of the week, and the doors were shut, where the disciples were gathered together, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in the midst, and said to them: Peace be to you.

And when he had said this, he shewed them his hands and his side. The disciples therefore were glad, when they saw the Lord.

He said therefore to them again: Peace be to you. As the Father hath sent me, I also send you.

When he had said this, he breathed on them; and he said to them: Receive ye the Holy Ghost.

Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained.  John 20: 19-23

With these words, Jesus commissioned the apostles, a commission passed through the Apostolic Succession to the ordained priests of the Catholic churches.                                                                 

Another reason is that we're human and forgiveness is a major issue in our lives.  Forgiving other humans who hurt us is hard.  We have trouble accepting the forgiveness of those we hurt, too, sometimes asking more than once for forgiveness for a single offense.  Most of all, we have trouble forgiving ourselves, experiencing guilty feelings to a sometimes-crippling degree.  We punish others, and we punish ourselves.  We hang onto old hurts, wondering if remembering them means we haven't forgiven them.

When we deal with God, a lot of these human struggles with forgiveness come into play.  We may wonder whether we're truly sorry or just going through the motions.  We may question whether the degree of contrition we feel is sufficient to gain God's forgiveness.  We may even examine the circumstances of our lives, searching for a sign of God's forgiveness.  It can be difficult to trust that our prayer 'worked.'

The sacrament of reconciliation relieves those doubts.  We have Jesus's word for it.

Finally, the sacrament is a joyful experience of God's never-failing love.  Yes, joyful!  How can reunion with God be anything but sweet?  The sacrament of reconciliation brings not only forgiveness but freedom.  It is truly a joyful and happy experience to receive God's forgiveness through the sacrament of reconciliation.

So what's the problem?  The problem is that so many of us have been hurt in the sacrament of reconciliation.  Instead of finding release from the burden of sin and joyful reunion with our loving Father, many Catholics have entered the confessional and experienced the priest's version of that rigid, angry God-Judge-and-Jury.  Instead of receiving a joyful assurance of forgiveness, they hear the words of absolution being spoken much like an angry father saying, "Well, ok this time - but I've got my eye on you!"

A priest who gives absolution in a disapproving manner does not mirror God's love effectively.  The penitent may be forgiven, but the joy has been drained from the experience.  The penitent may leave feeling unworthy, retaining feelings of guilt instead of the sublime freedom the sacrament is meant to offer.  They are indeed forgiven, but they may not be able to accept it if the confessor's own attitude taints the sacrament.

Such confessions have driven many Catholics from not only the sacrament but the Church.  It is a tragedy that a sacrament meant to bring us into union with God would prove to be a stumbling block for so many.
Tune in tomorrow as we conclude this series.

The Dirtiest Word, Part Three

(continuing the series begun Nov. 1)

What shall we do about the fact of sin?

Well, first, we admit that we have fallen short.  We recognize those behaviors, words, and thoughts that have been unloving.  We recognize that our indulgence in them has put us out of alignment with God - not because God has turned from us when we sin but because we have turned from Love.  After we recognize our sin, we have a choice.  We can make excuses and attempt to rationalize it; this rarely has the effect of re-aligning us with God's love.

Or we can reject sin and choose re-alignment with God's love.  We repent and ask God's forgiveness.

In the past, penance was a means of demonstrating repentance.  This may bring to mind a variety of unsavory practices like torn garments, sackcloth and ashes, self-flagellation, and an assortment of uncomfortable practices and perspectives.  In our understanding, while such things have meaning for others, they are unnecessary in our effort to turn from sin and find forgiveness.

In the Roman Catholic church, the first step toward receiving forgiveness was to confess one's sins to a priest, who would then extend God's forgiveness to the penitent (John 20:23).   Unfortunately, many of the old practices and perspectives of repentance have been and still are influencing that sacrament.

As a lifelong Catholic, I have received the sacrament of reconciliation, as it is now known in the church, probably hundreds of times.  Some confessors ministered the discipline of the church, with harsh admonitions to honor my parents, to tell the truth, to keep from anger, or whatever I happened to confess that week.  They scolded me, then gave me my penance, which was normally the recitation of prayers for some intention, perhaps for the Holy Father or the hungry or the sick.  In later years, after Vatican II, the penance was often to commit some good work.

In addition, some confessors were better able to set their human personality aside in the confessional box, the better to minister God's everlasting forgiveness and love.  A priest who had been lied to all his life may get a little venting in before saying the words of forgiveness.  A priest whose parents had divorced might speak quite severely to a penitent who confessed an extramarital affair.  One who struggled with celibacy might be very hard on a young boy who struggled with impure thoughts or masturbation.  I do not say this to condemn such priests; I suspect they felt that it was God directing them to speak so sternly.  We are all human, and priests are no exception.

It is unfortunate, though, since in our understanding of the nature of God's love, the confession of even the most horrendous of sins would find a loving understanding and full forgiveness.  Like the Prodigal Son, we may approach the sacrament with our heads low in sorrow, but God meets us there in a joyful embrace filled with delight at re-established union.

In some churches, the practice is simply to ask in prayer for forgiveness.  When we are genuinely sorry, God forgives us.  Always.

In our church, we offer the sacrament of reconciliation, or confession, for those who desire it.  Why would anyone in their right mind want to go to confession?  Tune in tomorrow. 

The Dirtiest Word, Part Two

(Continued from Nov. 1)
You probably know someone whose anger with God is so great that even the word 'God' offends them.  So great is the hurt inflicted by a church that dismisses our suffering as pleasing to some great rigid God-Judge whose anger must be continually appeased through punishment or even eternal condemnation.

This idea does not resonate with us as a true depiction of Loving Creator. If God loves us, then it stands to reason that God's love is deeper and purer than ours, tainted as it is by our own self-interest.  That being the case, we matter to Loving Creator not as fellow sufferers with Christ but as fellow children of God.  Rather than lowly, unworthy beings, we are beloved children.

Even beloved children can sin, however.  We are, after all, beloved human children subject to the tug of our understandings, emotions, and desires.  The various pains of human life are hard to ignore, as well, and all these aspects of our humanity drive us to words and actions that are unloving at times, actions that are unworthy of us as Children of God.

Occasionally, we find ourselves in situations so painful that we forget our true identity as God's own.  We may respond to such troubling circumstances with actual malice and perhaps even anger to the point of hatred.  Our hurt may be so intense that, having moved from alignment with Love, we find relief only in unloving, hurtful behavior.

We may say harsh things that wound others.  We may take what is not ours.  We may refuse to admit the truth or tell deliberate untruths.  We may brood over our hurt and grow sullen and bitter and become sour on life. Perhaps we direct our unhappiness toward Creator, rejecting God who has not answered a prayer or transformed a situation to our satisfaction. 

In short, these human responses so unlike Love are what we call sin.  They do not make us horrible beings worthy only of death; they are reflections of our humanity in action.  We can call them lessons or mistakes, if the word 'sin' is so abhorrent to us, but that does not change the truth that sin exists.

So if sin exists, what do we do about it? 

The Dirtiest Word

I'll bet several candidates come to you as you consider the title, but I suspect the one I have in mind didn't make the top ten: sin.

In in the mind of many progressive or liberal Christians, sin has come to be a dirty word.  Instead, they speak of lessons and mistakes and human failings.  Those are very gentle ways to refer to the Actions Formerly Known as Sin.  Such words do not damage self-esteem, criticize, or condemn.  They do not alienate people.  Jesus, however, never told anyone their 'human failings' were forgiven; he spoke of sin.

The problem is not with the word sin or even the concept of sin.  We recognize actions as right or wrong with ease.  We all know very well when someone has 'sinned' against us. Why, then, the reluctance to admit that sin exists and that we are all guilty of it, when we readily acknowledge that we all fail to live up to the Christian ideal?

Perhaps the reason for our rejection of sin lies less in any unwillingness to admit we err than in the way sin and forgiveness have been presented by the traditional mainline Catholic and Protestant churches.  Often, I was taught that because we were sinful human beings, we were unworthy of God's love.  Instead, we merited only God's disdain, and the fact that God loved us at all was only testament to the goodness of God rather than any lovable aspect of us lowly humans.

Even now, after years of prayer and study, I can feel myself grow tense just typing those old teachings.  Such power has the condemnation of the church - and what the church condemned was, well, our humanity.  Nothing of us was good.  Any good in us was God's spirit dwelling within.  Our job was to root out our humanity as much as we could, chiefly by denial of anything that gave us pleasure.

Such teachings gave rise to barbaric practices.  Pain became viewed as a gift from God to help us burn off the punishment due our sins - this despite Jesus having suffered for our sins on the cross.  And if God didn't gift us with enough pain in life, we were taught to make sacrifice by forgoing innocent joys and pleasures.  Religious were urged to use the discipline - which was a small belt, whip, or flogger - regularly.

These ideas sound medieval, but they persist in the modern day.  Pope John Paul II seems to have used a belt as his personal discipline and is rumored to have slept on the hard floor rather than his comfortable bed.  On Good Friday, some devout Christians take to flogging themselves, even crucifying themselves as penance for their and the world's sins.  Even today, some segments of Christianity see this as pleasing to God.

We don't understand a loving God taking delight in our pain any more than a loving human parent enjoys watching a beloved child suffer, and that's what we are:  God's beloved children.

More tomorrow. 

Middle and Aftermath

Our hearts go out to all affected by the superstorm Sandy.  So many people are hurt or in need, and it's not over yet.  Sandy is expected to bring flooding and power outages to those in its wake as it moves farther west.  If you are able, please consider making a donation to the American Red Cross to assist those who are displaced, homeless, or otherwise in need. 

Here's the link to donate:  https://www.redcross.org/donate/index.jsp?donateStep=2&itemId=prod10002
God bless us all in these difficult days. 

Reason for Joy

Life is hard, I know.  If we listen to our conversations, we'd probably hear a litany of complaints about work, finances, the kids, our health, the house, you name it. I don't mean to minimize the validity of our concerns.  We have genuine problems.  

However, sometimes we give those problems disproportionate 'air-time' in our conversation.  We give them too much head-time as we mull them over and over in our minds.  In so doing, we simply magnify the worry and angst of our problems.  Worrying rarely generates helpful strategies for handling issues, but it can surely make it seem as though our live is filled only with trouble. 

Not true.  There is always something for which to be grateful, for which to praise God's goodness.  

My family has been stressed over the outcome of tests one of my sisters recently took.  We've been praying hard that the results would not indicate cancer.  Today they came back - normal.  You can bet we're all smiling.  Today, nothing is a problem: my sister is ok.  

Sometimes it takes a scare to make us realize how fortunate we are, how gracious God is to us, how very good our lives are.  It's better to be thankful without a scare, certainly, but even fearful things serve us, if they drive us to turn God-ward in prayer. The Psalmist gives us God's response:

 When he calls to me, I will answer him;    

I will be with him in trouble - Psalm 91 v. 15

Beauty Everywhere

It's a beautiful day here in Niagara: the sky is clear, the sun is shining, the trees are wearing their autumn colors.  I hear the blue jays at the feeder, and the squirrels have been busy.  Observing the day's beauty, I feel my stress drain away. 

What beauty do you see as you look around?  It may be that you look upon a busy city street with people hurrying to complete their tasks.  You may be surrounded by fields in the midst of their final harvest.  You may even be looking out upon snowy vistas, as a friend shared yesterday.

My father was a photographer.  As a young child, I enjoyed looking through the photos he had taken for his course.  Many were industrial shots that puzzled me.  "Can't you see the beauty?" he asked.  "Look at them!  See the lines of the pipes?  Look how this section is dark, while this area is filled with light."  Patiently, he showed me what appealed to him in the scenes.  He taught me that there is always something beautiful to see if you only look for it.

I was reminded of that when I saw a photograph of an ordinary garage-floor oil slick recently.  The photographer had captured the play of colors in the oil against the pale concrete, seeing beauty where many of us (myself included!) would simply have seen something needing to be cleaned. 

If we take the time, we will discover much beauty to appreciate and, in that appreciation, we will find our hearts uplifted and our worries eased.  Often, though, we do not grant ourselves even that momentary respite from our tasks and concerns.  It may seem like a waste of time or an exercise in selfishness. 


You may recall having set an especially nice table or done something nice to surprise a loved one.  If your loved one failed to notice it or, even worse, glanced at it and dismissed it, you know how hurtful such disappointment is. 

God has set before us not a beautiful table but a beautiful world.  How sad if we fail to notice it or dismiss it as 'just another autumn day.'  I'm not suggesting that our failure to appreciate the world is hurtful to God at all, but why don't we ever considered that taking time to appreciate the world around us may be not only helpful and relaxing but also holy?

Enjoying the beauty God offers is an opportunity to gift God with our loving appreciation for the blessings around us.  What could be holier? 

Reassurance

For years I followed a reading plan that took me though the entire Bible each year.  Over time, though, I focused on the Gospels and my favorite books of the Old Testament, like Psalms.  Today this passage from Psalms caught my eye, and I was struck by the loving reassurance it offers:

The Lord makes firm the steps
    of the one who delights in him; 

 though he may stumble, he will not fall,
    for the Lord upholds him with his hand.

 I was young and now I am old,
    yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken
    or their children begging bread.

Psalm 37:23-25

So many of us are facing difficult days.  Here in Niagara, the High Season has ended and the season of slow business and decreased income has begun.  It's scary, when even the High Seasons have been slow these past years. 

There are so many scary things in our world: violence, sickness, loss of loved ones, broken relationships.   Yet the Psalmist offers us great consolation: though we may face hard days, God will uphold us.  I love the last verse, especially.  How often have we said such things to encourage others who are fearful?  In the same way, the Psalmist understands our struggles and worry and encourages us.  

These words have been the strength of generations.  I hope they comfort you as they do me. 

Delight the Lord

Bible verse for today: 

Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord, but those who act faithfully are his delight.  Proverbs 12:22 

 Truth seems cheap these days.  Cheating and plagiarism are rampant, from kids in school to young adults in university to even presidential candidates.  Copyrights are violated, trademarks are stolen, and lying is regarded as a minor offense, if not a complete non-issue.

But that is the way of the world, and we as Christians are called to something better.  Something purer.  Something fairer.  Something more just.  We are called to walk in the light, to be children of Light.  We are called to be truthful.

Honesty, integrity - these are important qualities for Christians.  The Scripture writer tells us that lying is an abomination, so important is honesty in God's eyes.  Be mindful of this when you are tempted to cheat, to take the easy way out, to tell the white lie, or to ignore your child's copied homework.  Honesty counts.

Today's verse is one of my all-time favorites:

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. - Micah 6:8

We are used to thinking of God as the Eternal Taskmaster, the judgmental old fellow with a clipboard, tallying out misdeeds and the punishments they have earned. Pleasing him requires walking the spiritual tightrope. We've seen people and denominations that place a lot of emphasis on the 'worm-and-no-man' unworthiness and 'all fall short' reminder.

Because we are such disgusting sinners, we are urged to endless vigilance and harsh self-judgment, forever pulling back from freedom and joyful living to the restriction we think will please God. "Think" will please God, note, because such mindsets are quick to point out that God's ways are beyond our knowing, challenging us, "Who can know the mind of God?" They inspire a spiritual uncertainty in our minds.

Wanting, of course, to please God, we strive to obey the rules given us by our spiritual teachers and endlessly examine ourselves. But in Micah, and later in the teachings of Jesus himself, we can find peace. Be just, be merciful, be humble. In response to the gifts and blessings that rain upon us in our lives, God asks so little of us. How gracious is God!

A Command

Today's Bible verse:  Exodus 20:12

Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee. 

Today would be my father's birthday; we lost him three years ago come Christmas week.  

 While no one actually gets to 'enjoy' their own wake, my dad had a preview of his when his own father died.  They shared the same first and surnames, with only a middle name to differentiate them, so when my grandfather died, many people who didn't know this assumed it was dad who had passed.

I'll never forget the standing-room-only crowd spilling out into the funeral home's parlor when we arrived at Grandpa's wake.  You had to push your way through to the casket to the washroom, to the exit...and it wasn't easy because person after person came to my sisters and me to tell us stories of our father.  

Dad was an insurance underwriter by trade, a life insurance salesman.  He believed term life insurance was a gift that could make a lifetime of difference for a struggling family and that insurance generally was a smart buy.  He never made a killing at it though; that was not his plan.  

I heard him chuckle one night to Mama about a sale he'd made following up a sales call with his  supervisor, Jim (name changed).  Jim was always on Dad's back for not selling more and bigger policies (and fat commission checks for them both), not that Dad was ever listening to him.  On this occasion, Jim had determined to show Dad how it was done.  

They visited a young couple and had coffee in the kitchen, Dad choosing the seat farthest from the couple, behind the supervisor. Jim began his spiel, directing his talk to the young husband, reminding him of all he would want to give his wife were he not cut down by death...and a big fat life insurance could make certain she would have the security and lifestyle he'd want for her.  Unbeknownst to Jim, Dad was shaking his head 'no' to almost every point Jim made.  The couple refused to buy right then, promising to think over what Jim had said.  When Dad signed them up later that week - for a very much smaller policy that would fit easily into their budget - Jim shook  his head and congratulated Dad, saying what a difficult sale that must have been.  

It actually was, but not for the reason Jim thought: Dad had actually needed to talk the couple down to that smaller policy after Jim's hard-sell push.  Jim, he said, didn't bother to consider their circumstances.  It was better to have a small policy you can afford than a big one that cramped you financially and which you'd have to let go later, getting no benefit from your payments.  Dad's idea was always to have clients get a small policy till their means allowed them to consider a big-dollar-payoff policy with ease.  

In Dad's world, the right thing was not to sell as much as possible but to discover the client's needs and sell them what would serve them without blowing their budget.  He got sales awards, year after year, but it was on the strength of hundreds of small-value sales to clients who recognized him as a friend.  

And he was.  The diversity of the people who came that night to pay respects to Mom - black, white, Asian, Hispanic, poor, well-to-do, old and and surprisingly young - were a testament of Dad's fidelity to his principle that a person's race or wealth were only details like eye color, that we were all the same with no one better than anyone else. There were so many people of races other than ours in the crowd.  I remember thinking that we were in the wrong room, as these people were not family but strangers to us.

The evening of Grandpa's wake, we heard story after story of how Dad had been there for his friends when they were struggling.  "Don't let the policy lapse; you lose everything that way," he'd say and pay their premiums - and sometimes give them money to tide them over.  He took vegetables and fruit as payment, eggs and once a puppy (not that Mama was overjoyed on that one).  When he visited their homes to collect premiums, he was invited in as a friend to have coffee and talk things over.  

"Appreciate your father," one client told us.  "He's pure gold."  One man, I recall, wouldn't let go my hand, so intent was he on expressing just how much he admired Dad.  

Dad never talked about how he felt, greeting all the people who came to pay him their respects - and got to pay them to the man directly instead of his survivors.    I hope he was as awed as we were by the sheer number of his client/friends who remembered him (he'd retired by then) and felt his assumed loss so deeply. 

And I hope he knows, now that we are indeed his survivors, that we were watching and listening, taking his words to heart.  I hope he knows we remember and miss him, and that we are so proud to be his daughters. 

Tuesday, Oct. 16

There's something about autumn.  The changing leaves, the lengthening nights, the birds seeking warmer havens...  Here in Niagara, the busy tourist season has ended, and only weekends see much activity.  Everything is slowing down, quieting, drawing in. It's a season I have always loved.  

Today's verse is from John, chapter 14, verse 27:

 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

Is there anything more lacking in today's world than peace?  All around us we see anger and fear, stress and conflict.  It is easy to get drawn into the world's unhappiness, but Jesus gives us his own peace to uphold us.  

And he doesn't give as the world gives - only on certain occasions, maybe, or to a select few or under specific conditions.  We needn't be afraid or troubled, ever, because we can always turn to Christ and enter into the peace he offers us.  

How?  Simply turn your heart and mind to him.  Pray, or reflect, or read a spiritual book.  Or take a moment simply to be in the divine presence.  Just take a step, and God will meet us wherever we are.  

Wishing you peace.

Being Joyful

Verse for today:   

Shout for joy, you heavens;
    rejoice, you earth;
    burst into song, you mountains!
For the Lord comforts his people
    and will have compassion on his afflicted ones.  

Isaiah 49:13

The Lord comforts us...has compassion on us.  What a beautiful truth.  If that doesn't lift your spirit, try this:  

Wishing you a joyful day!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Today is Thanksgiving Day here in Canada. In keeping with both the theme of the day and St. Francis, whose feast we celebrated last week, I'd like to offer a story told me by a fellow priest I met at an ACW event north of Toronto.

He was at his cottage in the highlands, reading on the front porch, when he heard a rustle.  Looking up, he saw a squirrel being chased by a cat.  Although he would normally have done nothing more than notice, this time he acted.  He put down his book and chased the cat away with a shout.  The two animals disappeared and he returned to his book. 

He was distracted an hour or so later when he heard another rustle. Looking up, he didn't see the cat again chasing the squirrel as he expected.  Instead, it was the squirrel, a nut in its mouth, scampering through the leaves.  As the priest watched, it dropped the nut on the step of the cottage, stood there a moment, and then scampered away, leaving the thunderstruck priest behind.

"Was that the same squirrel?" he asked.  "I didn't really pay attention to the one I helped.  And if it was, why did he leave the nut?  Was that gratitude?  Do animals even feel gratitude?" 

We chatted about squirrels, who usually take and hide nuts rather than leave them in the open. We wondered why a squirrel would do that, as we'd never heard of squirrels behaving that way.We had an interesting discussion about animals and emotions, but none of us could offer any explanation other than that the squirrel he'd assisted had returned with a gift.


Today, as we offer our thanks to God, let us offer a gift to the animals who enrich our lives so much.  And it is our hope that your Thanksgiving Day is filled with happiness, love and true gratitude. 

Animals Know

St. Francis of Assisi not only loved animals, he preached to them.  He regarded them as fellow companions on the earthly journey with a respect few can match.

There seems to be a great divide between animal lovers and animal  -- disregarders, I 'll call the people who think no more of animals than they do a piece of wood or a rock.  Animal lovers often seem to believe that animals have greater understanding and insight than we think, and I agree.  Take what happened to me when the cardinals called.

Luckily, when this occurred, a fellow teacher was over at my house; we were chatting over cold colas and having a lovely visit after school.  We were interrupted several times by cardinals' noisy chatter - well, racket, actually.  Then the bell rang.

The former owner of my home had added a screened porch off the family room where I entertained my guest.  He'd installed not only a doorbell but also a decorative bell on a fancy S-scroll hook; it took only a gentle bob of the finger to set it ringing, and my father rarely visited without making that bell ring out. 

Going to the door, I did not see my parents as I expected.  "Nobody there," I reported to my friend, but I had barely re-seated myself before the bell rang again. 

"Perhaps your father is playing a trick," she suggested as I returned to look through the glass.  Again, no one was there.  "They must be hiding," she laughed, and I went out to the porch as she followed me.

No one was there, but about a foot from the door stood a male cardinal.  He squawked as we looked at him.   "What is is, Lassie?" I asked, teasingly.  "Show us!" We both laughed, but the bird began to hop and squawk wildly, so I opened the door, expecting the bird to fly away.  He didn't.

Instead, he hopped a foot or so and squawked.  We took a few steps and he did the same thing, leading us, it seemed.  We teased and played, following the bird, till we rounded the corner of the house.  The bird flew to the fence silently. 

What a tableau!  Before us lay carnage.  The cardinals' nest lay on the ground in pieces instead of perched neatly in an azalea branch where it had been.  Beside it, a dead baby cardinal.  At the gate, the female perched restlessly, beneath her on the ground, the single surviving baby cardinal crying on the grass.   Frozen in place, the neighbour's cat. 

I ran the cat off as my friend repaired the nest and replaced it on the bits remaining in the azalea.  I was hesitant to pick up the baby cardinal, but as my friend pointed out, they came looking for us, so she was not likely to abandon it.  That made sense so I replaced it in the nest.  The female instantly joined it, the male perching protectively beside her.  I got some seeds and put them at the base of the shrub for easier feeding and we left.

I cannot forget that experience.  Even though the birds had never had any closer encounter with me than eating the food I put in the feeders, they....sought my help.  When there was trouble, the birds recognized me as a friend.  Somehow, they not only knew I would not harm them, but they seemed to turn to me for help when there was danger.  That amazed me then and still does.

Of course I kept a careful watch on that nest, and the baby survived to adulthood.  And since then, I have found many others with stories far more amazing than my own.  Animals know, and I think Francis knew that.  

Being Kind to Animals

Today is the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of animals and those who love them.  Often people think that animals don't count for much in the spiritual world.  Animals don't have souls, they say, and so regarding them highly, etc., is uncalled-for.  Since I've been doing short entries highlighting favorite Bible passages lately, I did a search for Bible verses regarding animals for today's post. 

 “I now establish my covenant with you and with your descendants after you and with every living creature that was with you-the birds, the livestock and all the wild animals, all those that came out of the ark with you-every living creature on earth.”  Genesis 9: 9-10

 All these years in the church, and I never realized that God's great covenant with us after the Flood was a covenant with not only people but with animals as well.  If Loving Creator regards animals this highly, then obviously treating them kindly and with respect is an important part of being Christian.

St. Francis understood this and his example reminds us to treat not only animals but all nature with respect and caring.  

Wednesday

Yesterday was October 2, the feast of the Holy Guardian Angels.  In the spirit of 'better late than never,' here is a favorite passage from Scripture, this one concerning our heavenly protectors:

 If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”
    and you make the Most High your dwelling,
 no harm will overtake you,
    no disaster will come near your tent.
 For he will command his angels concerning you
    to guard you in all your ways;
 they will lift you up in their hands,
    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
 You will tread on the lion and the cobra;
    you will trample the great lion and the serpent.  Psalm 91:9-13

When troubles seem overwhelming, I take great comfort in this passage.  I hope it is a help to you as well. 

Favorites

I've mentioned that I've been under the weather; allergies and a bad cold are making it hard to focus and I know I'm not at my best.  For example, I lost the entire blog post I have been working on all morning.  

My point was that days like today are good times to share bits of Scripture I've found helpful or inspiring in the hope that others may find them helpful as well.

Here is one of my favorite verses, Jeremiah 29:11.  

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

I love this verse because I was taught a different vision of God, one that was far less loving and caring.   God loves us, and this verse expresses God's loving intention to us all.  What a comforting verse it has been to me!  I hope reading it confirms your confidence in God and brings you peace.

Jesus-Christian

Years ago, when I was teaching in a Roman Catholic school, each class was responsible for hosting several school Masses each year.  They would select the readings, write the prayers and intentions, and choose the hymns we'd sing.  One song was a particular favorite of the students; we'd sing it again and again.  The song was called "They'll Know We Are Christians by Our Love." (Jason Upton)

The song is based on John 13: 34-35, I believe.  In this chapter, the Apostles are preparing for Passover.  Jesus washes their feet and predicts his betrayal.  He tells them that is time is growing short and stresses the importance of his central teaching:

"A new command I give you: Love one another.  As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

 Love is the commandment of Jesus.  We cannot follow him or profess to be truly Christian if we do not love each other, friends and enemies alike.  Note that he says that everyone will recognize us as Christians not by our words, not by our rituals, not by our affiliation but by one sign: that we love one another.  

It's not enough to talk love.  We have to act love.  We have to BE love.  That doesn't mean we have to be mealy-mouthed wimps; Jesus certainly wasn't.  But we have to live in a place of love and act from it.  When we are united to Christ in Love, we will speak truth, but  even our disagreements and conflicts will be marked by respect and caring for the others involved.  

As Christians, we will not turn a blind eye to the sufferings and needs of others, but we will reach out to them without strings.  We will not seek to control them or limit them, but respect their free will even as they exercise it in ways that are not in keeping with our faith. 

Jesus teaches us a love that does not seek to control others but to draw them from the sheer power of the Love that directs our words and actions.  It is a far cry from much of the 'love' and Paulianity-Christianity we see demonstrated around us, but that very difference is our strength.  They will know we are Christians, indeed, by our love.

Happy Friday...

Niagara is noted for the beauty of the terrain, the lake and river, the old homes.  Niagara also has a winter far milder than that of nearby areas like Buffalo NY and Ontario locations only an hour away. 

Now that autumn is here, the green ash trees around town are showing some yellow leaves with more to come as the season wears on.  Tonight, I understand, may bring our first frost of the lengthening nights. 

Autumn inspires reflection, and those reflections are often somber as we note the ending of the long summer days, of the growing season, of the calendar year.  Such sober reflections, though, miss the glory of the season. Nature doesn't move quietly into winter, dragging its heels, so to speak, in sadness at the loss of summer.  Instead, it throws a party complete with food and decorations.

And so, I am thinking today of the many things in life I view with somber spirit - aging, for one, with its aches and pains.  An economy that provides so many of us with a barely-sufficient wage making even simple pleasures a struggle.  You can probably make your own list of woes; we all have them, don't we.

At this time of year, we may be mourning the end of summer, but Nature isn't.  Nature knows it will be back soon and all is well in the meantime.  Nature invites us to take a fresh look at the woes we have, shifting our perspective to one of celebration.  You know, looking on the bright side. 

It is a cliche, but like many cliches, it guides us to a helpful realization.  Yes, aging brings unwelcome changes, but it brings a greater appreciation of aspects of life we may never have considered.  If we cannot spend lavishly - or even easily, we can draw together to support each other in our journey toward greater security.  They may be wrapped in a circumstance we'd rather not experience, but gifts fill our lives.  Autumn reminds us to keep our eyes open so we don't miss a single one of them.

Wishing everyone a happy weekend filled with gifts.

Under the Weather

Still under the weather.  

Illness demands that we stop and rest.  We can fight it, of course.  I know people who work through the flu and even major illnesses.  

A friend of mine lost her sister-in-law to cancer.  Despite relentless pain and repeated surgeries, the sister-in-law continued pastoring her small flock and even accompanied them on a trip to some far-off third-world country in Africa.  As though that weren't enough, the tribal leader they came to assist immediately took possession of her wheelchair, regarding it as a gift.  She let him have it and struggled on despite conditions I would not tolerate were I twenty and in top physical condition. Heroic?  I am stunned by her - stoicism, endurance, patience, holiness?   I don't even know what to call it.

I only know I don't have it.  Perhaps I'm weak, very probably self-indulgent, definitely older and tireder.  Whatever.  Even the debate is beyond me today.

I am reminded of St. Therese of Lisieux, the Little Flower.  In her short life as a Carmelite nun (she was only 24 at her death in 1897 of tuberculosis), she longed to serve God as a missionary, saving souls for God being the greatest work she could conceive.  Her health would not permit it, however.  If she could not do a 'great' work for God, she reasoned, then she would offer the small things of life - every word, every glance - for love.  It became known after her death as the Little Way.  St. Therese described her manner of prayer as a 'glance toward heaven,' and prayer doesn't get much simpler than that, does it.

St. Therese's 'little way' makes spirituality accessible to anyone, anywhere, in any circumstances.  What a comforting thought it is to know that God recognizes and understands the big and small trials we face daily, the frailties of human life, so that when framing a phrase or a blog post becomes the work of a day (or, in this case, the work of nearly five hours), a glance toward heaven suffices. 

M - E

The Emmy awards were televised Sunday night, and like most people, I tuned in to watch.  It was like every awards show, I expect.  Some parts were amusing, some boring, and some I didn't even watch.  The theme stood out, though.

The host made a joke of the award name, Emmy, calling the show a night when Hollywood celebrates - themselves.  After all, he said, the very title of the award was M-E.  The running commentary of the host continued along that theme, focusing on his appraisal of himself, including a short rather boring video of clips in which he played a prominent role.

The host's self-promotion was rude and crude, played for laughs, but it got me thinking about the idea of celebrating ourselves.  Of course we should celebrate ourselves, but it poses quite a struggle for many of us.

How many times have you seen someone turn a compliment back on the giver - or reject it completely - rather than simply smile a thank-you?   Think of the typical surprise party guest-of-honor's response:  Oh, you shouldn't have!  Why not? 

As Christians, we have all faced the me-others teaching that tells us to put God first, others next, and ourselves last.  To do otherwise is selfish. 

That's certainly clear enough, but is it Christian?  I'm not sure it is.

It implies that we don't matter, and I for one have heard that teaching expressed openly by more than one priest or other Christian leader.  That's ridiculous.  Of course we matter.  Jesus gave his life not for all people, but for each person.  That is, Jesus died specifically for Jean, for Allison, for Toby, for Mark.    We each matter, in and of ourselves.  

On the other hand, putting ourselves first at the expense of others is not acceptable.  We are called to care for them, to help, to support and uplift others.  We cannot ignore their needs if we follow Christ.

So there we have it: the Christian tightrope.  Where does self interest fall in the Christian walk?  I was taught that it didn't belong there.  We must take care of others, and let God take care of us.

That comes right from the mouth of Jesus, I was taught.  The Two Great Commandments gives us God's priority:  God, others, ourselves.   Jesus says we come last.  I'm not so sure about that.

Here is the passage:  Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind' This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'  All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:37-40, NIV)

Christ's second commandment is to "Love your neighbor as yourself."  AS yourself.  In this usage, 'as' means, basically, "as much as."  It expresses an equal relationship.

I believe Jesus is telling us to love others just as much as we love ourselves, to make the needs of others as important as our own, to care for them as we care for ourselves.  

Over the generations, though, the teaching has been used to convince well-meaning Christians that their comfort, their happiness, their wishes count for nothing. Instead of caring for themselves, they must pour themselves out for others, holding nothing back, keeping nothing for themselves. 

The key is balance.  Obeying Christ's mandate means loving our neighbors as much as we love ourselves.  It means loving ourselves as much as we love our neighbors, too. 

Sorry

I am still under the weather.  I tried writing a post, and it was poorly done.  My apologies.

In the meantime, here is one of Deborah's photos.  Autumn! 

Cycling

Today is a beautiful day, as all days seem to be here in lovely Niagara.  It's a bit chilly, and outside my window a few yellow leaves float down now and then. Truly, summertime is behind us and the shortening days of autumn lie before us.

I love this time of year.  I enjoy the dark nights closing in earlier and earlier.  After summer's heat, the autumn chill is welcome.  And who isn't glad to see the fresh apples, corn and other harvest vegetables at the market!

It's an appropriate time of year to reflect on the blessings we have received. Note that I didn't say give thanks but reflect on the blessings.  Reflecting is the important part.

Reflection is a pastime of bygone days, when people had time for it.  I'm not the first to notice that despite all the technology and labor-saving tools we use as a matter of course, we have less leisure time than our ancestors did.  In those days of slow, painstaking work, connection was less regular and immediate than it is now.

In contrast, we have not only instant communication but what is very nearly constant communication.  Emails, tweets, and texts make telephoning and letter-writing rather rare.  All those communications - not to mention live feeds from people and news organizations we follow - leave us 'on' just about all day and night.  It's hard to complete a task without frequent interruptions, and it's hard to ignore them when they break in on us.

Reflection is one of the many casualties of our powered-up, high-speed age.  Who has time simply to be, observing what is around you, enjoying the present moment?   What difference does it make, anyway?

To sit or take a walk with no purpose other than to sit or walk seems like a waste of time unless we have some device what we can use to connect with the world.  It isn't, though.  It's more important than we realize.

You may be thinking, "Ah, mindfulness.  Living in the moment, yes."  No.

Mindfulness is a wonderful thing, as is the appreciation of every moment we are granted.  That may be where you begin, when you set tasks aside to begin the work of reflection.

As you sit, as you observe, you may be aware of thoughts gently floating in and out of mind, scarcely disturbing the flow of the moment.  True, it may feel like wasting time.

As you persist though, the present moment recedes and becomes part of a vast succession of moments.  As you allow them to come together, you become more aware of the flow of moments in your life and the patterns they create and follow.  As you observe each moment taking its place as part of the whole of your life, new understandings become possible.

We observe a leaf falling and become aware of the fragility of life.  We draw our collar closed against the chill and recall that the year is nearing its end, viewing our accomplishments with satisfaction or sadness.  We become aware of how we feel and realize that we don't want to continue feeling that way - and feel it so deeply that we take a step toward changing our life.

And as we continue to reflect, we find not only the understanding and direction we need but also the strength to act on it.  In this way, reflection becomes a powerful tool for our spiritual development and personal growth.