Saved by Hope

In the encyclical “Saved by Hope” which Pope Benedict issued close to a year ago, he asks some disturbing questions. “How could the idea have developed that Jesus’ message is narrowly individualistic and aimed only at each person singly?” It’s as though the Pope were saying, “Where in the world did that idea come from?” And he goes on in the same vein as though in exasperation at such a distortion of what the message of Jesus is: “How did we arrive at this interpretation of the salvation of the soul as a flight from responsibility for the whole and how did we come to conceive the Christian project as a selfish search for salvation which rejects the idea of serving others?”

In his address to the bishops of the United States in April of this year at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, D.C., Pope Benedict stated the same problem in the affirmative. He said, “Any tendency to treat religion as a private matter must be resisted. Only when their faith permeates every aspect of their lives do Christians become truly open to the transforming power of the Gospel.”

This misunderstanding, this privatizing of the faith, is something all of us are vulnerable to. However, in the United States with its culture of individualism, with the way we lionize the “self-made” person with all that term suggests by way of going it alone and an unregulated autonomy make us particularly susceptible to this distortion of what it means to be a follower of Jesus.

The Pope was not expressing a pet peeve or some kind of idiosyncratic beef. Ingredient to the gospel preached and lived by Jesus is the understanding that we are all interrelated and interconnected and called to serve even as Jesus came not to be served but to serve and to give.. Jesus has not been called The Man for Others because he isolated himself from his contemporaries or was indifferent to the human condition. To trace this reality even farther back, at the very beginnings of God’s dealing with humanity; God was not pleased with Cain’s response to the question, “Where is your brother?” “Am I my brother’s keeper?” Cain should have known better and, certainly by now, so should we.

As the followers of Jesus, we cannot hold ourselves aloof from the condition of our brothers and sisters in the family of God, nor is it permitted us to be disinterested and detached from what is happening to Earth, our home. The imperative from our baptism is to get ourselves involved.

First of all by prayer, yes. The prayer for enlightenment as to where we can best serve the human family, where we can best be those channels of the values of the reign of God. Prayer, too, for our own transformation of heart that we may be unselfseeking and involve ourselves in a self-emptying way that the Spirit flowing through us will empower those we serve.

But, then, to really get ourselves engaged, to be willing to leave our own comfort zone, to get our hands dirty, to share with others whatever we have to share, whether materially, emotionally, spiritually as the case and the demand may be. To do this with a certain spirit of abandon, not even looking for results, with the faith conviction that, if we serve in this fashion, the Spirit of God flowing through us will produce its own fruit at the proper time.

This calls not for a knee-jerk response but for reflection with other like-minded citizens of this planet, preferring always cooperation over competition. There is no telling how much good can be done if we would not concern ourselves with who will get the credit! To study or engage with others who have studied societal or ecological problems to discover what structures in our society have to be changed or done away with if we are to have the just society we all are hungry and thirsty for is a part of this involvement and living out our commitment as incorporated into the Christ who lives in the world today.

One does not have to be a philanthropist in order to enrich others (and it may be observed, be enriched ourselves in the process), we have only to draw upon the inheritance that is ours as alive with the life of the risen Lord in whom are all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, in whom dwells the fullness of divinity which we share by the life of grace! We have been given a wild tiger that we have tamed into a cuddly pussy cat. This season of Advent-Christmas season when we celebrate the birth of him who through his union with one of us has taken up his abode in all of us may be an excellent time to arouse this reality from its torpor! And truly acknowledge the presence of him who has never left us by his presence in our fellowman and woman!

Fr. John Baptist Pesce, C.P.

Namaste

Namaste is an Indian term that is used by Hindus. In recent years it has gained popularity in American New Age movements. You can often hear the expression used at the beginning of a yoga class. There are many definitions of the term all centering on the same concept. Aadil Palkhivala suggests the following: “The gesture Namaste represents the belief that there is a Divine spark within each of us that is located in the heart chakra. The gesture is an acknowledgment of the soul in one by the soul in another. "Nama" means bow, "as" means I, and "te" means you. Therefore, Namaste literally means "bow me you" or "I bow to you." Other definitions include:

The God in me recognizes and honors the God in you.

I honor the place in you
in which the entire Universe dwells.

I honor the place in you
which is of Love, of Truth, of Light and of Peace.

When you are in that place in you,
and I am in that place in me,
we are one.

I do not believe that the literal translation is important, rather the idea that we are connected to each other and we are all connected and one with God, though I have had occasion to be with groups of people who will argue about the true meaning of the term Namaste. I have thought to myself that if you have to argue about the literal translation you are truly missing the meaning and purpose of the term and gesture. I am always more struck by the similarities between religious and/or spiritual traditions then the differences.

Recently I had the occasion to travel to New York City for business. I wanted to make the trip as productive as possible so I scheduled a meeting in the morning with clients and two meetings in the afternoon with different clients. My first clients then decided they wanted a second meeting with others in their company, immediately following the first meeting. Needless to say I knew that I was in store for a “Day from Hell”. Especially since my clients were all in different parts of the city. My schedule left me no time for eating and barely enough time to go to the bathroom.

My day did not start out well. The train was late, it was crowded so I had to stand the entire train ride and the air conditioner was not working. By the time I arrived at Grand Central Station I was already late, tired, sweaty, and aggravated; and my day was just beginning. The day did not improve as it wore on. Almost everything that was discussed at these meetings could have been discussed with a conference call. I thought to my self what a colossal waste of my time. I began to think, I am a very busy person how dare these people waste my time like this. Finally around 5:00 the last meting ended. I was hot, tired, hungry and frustrated. I couldn’t wait to get back home. As I left the building I noticed the people all rushing to get here or there. It felt like there must have been millions of people, the streets and sidewalks were crowded. The people were pushing and shoving trying to grab a cab or get to were ever they needed to be. I thought that it would take to long to try and hail a cab and fight rush hour traffic to get back to Grand Central Station. So I decided to take the subway. The subway platform was packed with people; you could not turn without bumping into someone. I hoped that they were all taking a different train. But when the number 4 pulled up and the doors opened the crush of people trying to get on began. I managed to squeeze into the car. I felt my personal space being invaded from every direction. Yet more people tried to squeeze into the remaining space. I wanted to scream out please just wait for the next train. As the train pulled out of the station I though I would have just enough time to grab a candy bar and hop on my train back to Connecticut. I also decided I was getting a seat on the train home. I could not stand another two hours in a hot crowded train. Woman, children, disabled and elderly be dammed I would push and shove my way through everyone to get a seat.

When the subway stopped at Grand Central Station I began moving in a focused determined pattern to get to my train. I did not notice anyone else I was totally focused on accomplishing my goal of grabbing a snack and getting a seat on the train. As I moved forward I suddenly bumped into a woman who was carrying several packages. She dropped all her packages. In that brief instant several thoughts crossed my mind. I first became angry, how dare this woman get in my way can’t she see I am on a mission. Then I thought she is fine she can pick up her own packages I need to hurry to catch my train. Finally I bent down to help her pick up her parcels and I apologized to her for bumping into her. She looked at me smiled and replied NAMASTE. She then turned and slowly walked away.

I was somewhat stunned. I stood there for a few moments watching her walk away. I had known the term. I had even used it on occasion. But it was more perfunctory like saying God blesses you when someone sneezes or hi how are you when you meet a person, a phrase without real meaning. This was different; when she smiled and said Namaste I could feel her inner peace touching me. I could see the God joy and happiness in her. I remembered my favorite passage from the Bible: John chapter 14 vs. 20 “On that day you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you’. I realized that when she replied Namaste she was saying that we are both children of God and that God is in each of us therefore we are one.

My entire perspective changed. All of a sudden rushing to catch the train did not seem near as important. I realized that I had been surrounded by thousands upon thousands of people and I was so focused on myself that I never noticed a single one of them. I found an empty table and sat down for a few minutes. I began noticing people going by. But I did not notice if they were tall or short, black or white, I didn’t see their warts or if they had a big nose. I thought each person is a son or daughter of God. I began to see that place in them where God dwells. I began to see their inner beauty and peace. I would smile at people as the rushed past. Some would keep rushing but occasionally a person would slow down and smile back. As I reflected for a moment on each person and the God within them I felt more and more at peace with myself. I was no longer hungry or tired. After a bit a man came over and asked if he could sit in the other chair at my table. I told him that I had reserved it for him, to which he chuckled and said thanks. We chit chatted for a few minutes. Talking about what we were doing in New York what kind of work we did and that sort of stuff. He then got up excused himself and said he had to catch his train home. But then he stopped turned around looked at me and said; “You must have had a really good day today” I was intrigued and asked why he thought that. He replied that he had noticed me sitting there and I looked very at peace. He continued that he had a very tough day and felt he needed a moment to calm himself before he continued his journey home. When he sat down next to me he could feel my inner peace and it helped to calm him. I got up looked at him smiled and Namaste and turned and walked toward my train.

Patrick Carolan

Moving Mysteries

“Nothing fills the body more quickly or completely with divine power and joy…than spontaneously expressing gratitude in dance.”
-Andrew Harvey

In July, I was blessed and honored to attend the 50th anniversary festival, “Moving Mysteries”, of the Sacred Dance Guild. Over 200 women, and a few brave men, gathered to share their love of dance as part of their faith.

Although I went without knowing anyone, I left with a wealth of friendships and experiences of dance as prayer in forms as vast and different as we are. From the woman who danced her grief for her friend and mentor whom she recently lost to cancer, to the legends and pioneers of liturgical dance who graciously shared their knowledge, experience and history with us. Just to be in their presence felt holy.

Each day our morning began in a large grassy field where we moved our bodies to awaken and greet one another. Looking into the eyes of each person was a joyful and peaceful way to begin our day. In our world sometimes greetings are lost in the swift tide of the moment. It meant something to be still with another, look into their eyes and acknowledge their presence in the universe.

One teacher, the beautiful and graceful Stella Matsuda, led us through set movement to the music “Come Drink Deep.” The movement was graceful and interpretive of the words. We struggled in areas to get the motions “right” until we were released from this burden when Stella invited us to connect with the words and the movement as it held meaning for us, not worrying about getting it “right”. Having worked on that for a bit, she split us into small groups to allow us more space to move in. I watched as my fellow classmates became prayers themselves. I witnessed women lost in the movement, some expressing joy, some sadness, others redemption. Tears escaped my eyes as I was held captive by them. It was intensely moving to see young girls as well as women doing "the same” movement yet with their emotions and experiences added, they each told their own story. I felt incredibly honored to share in their prayer.

When we add movement to our own prayer, we find wells deep within us that have been longing to escape. When we find that in ourselves and express it with our bodies, others join in our journey… they become part of our prayer.

Dance has been a part our human story for as long as we have existed. So much of our own life’s story is told without words. Responding to rhythms in our environment, in our interactions with others, in our internal self…is instinct. My hope is that if you are ever in the presence of dance in worship, though it may seem foreign, and even a bit uncomfortable at first, you will be open to experiencing it. Sometimes it takes something old and ancient, to teach us something new and timeless.

I believe in the power of all forms of prayer--spoken, danced, sung, played on a musical instrument, painted on a canvas. It is truly a prayer to use the gifts God has given us to reflect them back to our brothers and sisters, sharing our essence with the universe. The Spirit is always moving through us...

Karen Rossignol

The Year of St. Paul

When I told a friend that I had named my son after St. Paul, she had an arch reaction. "Why would you name your son after that misogynist?" she said. I was prepared for that. Whether invoking Paul's imprecation that "wives must be submissive to their husbands," (Ephesians 5: 22-23) or that Jews "killed both the Lord Jesus and the prophets," (Thess 2: 15), Paul of Tarsus has been the fall guy for every iniquity from misogyny to anti-Semitism.

And yet this year, the 2,000th anniversary of his birth, the Vatican is celebrating "the year of St. Paul," by encouraging Catholics to re-examine Paul, the most influential shaper of Christianity outside of Jesus. How far this will go in reshaping the conventional wisdom about Paul will depend on how far the church is willing to go to bring new, more nuanced scholarship about this exhilarating [Dash] and exasperating [Dash] man into the pews.

From Andre Gide, to Thomas Jefferson, to George Bernard Shaw, the devout and the doubtful have taken aim at Paul, dismissing him as the wet blanket of the New Testament, a rigid, chauvinistic scold who took all the Good out of the Good News and replaced in with a dour, censorious bleakness. Jefferson called Paul the "first corrupter of the doctrines of Jesus." Nietzsche said that the evangelist had "a genius for hatred."

Paul, the first and most vigorous of theologians, has been the most maligned, misunderstood and misrepresented saint in Christian history. And yet I chose to name my son after him because I believe Paul best articulates the electrifying possibilities of humankind and the ecstatic contradictions that make it so difficult to achieve them. I love the very qualities that have vexed so many: Paul's volatility, his gusto, his self-lacerating disappointment in himself and his fiery invectives against those who he believes diminish Jesus' message. If Paul is vicious in his condemnation of the wicked, he can at least be credited for lumping himself in that group.

As historian Henry Bamford Parkes wrote, "Emotional and excitable, alternating between states of ecstasy and depression, utterly convinced of his guidance by the Spirit and given to boasting of his own achievements, utterly convinced of his guidance by the Spirit...Paul revealed his whole personality with an astonishing candor and sincerity. His letters were the earliest example of that full acceptance of naked humanity not as it ought to be, but as it was...."

Part of the problem for Paul is that his letters are a response to first-century crisis about which we know next to nothing. As Gary Wills writes in "What Paul Meant," "We hear his raised voice without knowing what the other side was shouting." The second problem, as Georgetown University Professor Anthony Tambasco told me, is that "some of the text that Paul gets blamed for, he probably didn't write."

Of the 13 letters attributed by Paul, only seven are now accepted as certainly his. Letters like those to Timothy and Titus, for instance, were clearly not written by Paul. They were written at a time when the church had become more systematized [Dash] and patriarchal. Hence: "Let a woman learn in silence with full submission. I permit no woman to teach or have authority over a man, she is to keep silent" (Timothy 2:11-13) was almost certainly not written by Paul."Paul had people who he called fellow apostles and they were women," said Tambasco, author of "In The Days of Paul."

The problem is while Paul writes memorably that "in Christ there is neither male nor female" (Galatians 3:28), he nevertheless believes, as Harold W. Attridge, Dean of Yale Divinity School, told me, "There's also the natural order of things that needs to be respected." And that was a first-century social order."There were some people in Paul's school and tradition who took that impulse in Paul rather strictly," Attridge said. "So the passage that talks about women not to take leadership roles or to teach in the church are probably not by Paul."

Paul's alleged anti-Semitism is a bit more subtle. As a bridge between Judaism and Christianity, Paul wrestles deeply with the necessity to keep all of Jewish ritual, including circumcision, or whether the risen Jesus is "the saving reality" and that the law, as Tambasco says "is God's second best gift." It's fine to keep it, Paul says, but don't impose it on non-Jews. Later Christians, of course, used this and other scriptural readings to bolster a raging anti-Semitism the vestiges of which are tenacious.

But the Paul I love best is the Paul who wrestles with his own failings and finds healing in God's grace. "I do not understand my own actions," he laments in Romans. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate....For I do not the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. (Rom: 7-15-16; 18-20). This is a man who admits he is clumsy at devotion "we do not know how to pray as we out, but that very Spirit intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words."

Is Paul harsh? Sure he is. But he is also gloriously poetic, recognizing that despite humanity's failings, it is trussed irrevocably to God. "For I am convinced," he writes in Roman, "that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Tracey O'Shaughnessy

Breathing through difficult times.

When I was pregnant with our first child, I learned mindful breathing techniques to help with the labor and delivery. Knowing how to breathe through the pain became more important with the birth of our second baby, simply because my labor with her was significantly longer than with the first.

Six months after our second child was born, I was diagnosed with cancer and those breathing skills immediately kicked back in. When the doctor says, “Change of plans, let’s do a biopsy,” there is nothing you can do but take a deep breath. When the doctor calls and, before explaining the test results, asks “Is your husband home with you?” all you can do is breathe. Knowing how to breathe through the pain helped me get through the nasty barium drinks, the physical pain of recovering from surgery, the post-surgical prohibition on picking up my daughters, and the unexpected news that I needed to have radiation and chemotherapy after all.

After a while, I realized that mindful breathing was not just a coping mechanism but it was also a gift. Normal life is very busy and offers few opportunities for quiet reflection. When you are lying on a cold metal table trying not to move during radiation treatment, however, you have the time to be still, and to breathe, and to reach out for God’s presence.

Being hooked up to an IV for 6 or 7 long hours on the chemo days forces you to slow down. I couldn’t go anywhere, but I could sit quietly, breathe deeply, and take the time to recognize and appreciate God’s grace, which was manifested in the love and kindness shown by my family and friends and by the nurses and volunteers.

It has been almost three months since I completed my treatment. My first post-treatment test came back clean and my life is mostly back to normal. Now, my challenge is to create space in my normal life where I can capture some of the stillness that was imposed on me while I was undergoing treatment in order to, again, focus on my breathing and, in those breaths, feel the enduring presence and strength of God.

Erin Choquette

The Place Called "I Know"

Patty A. shares her spiritual journey of recovery.

There is a place beyond “I Believe.” It is a place called “I Know.”

You can get to “I Believe” through the experience of others. You go to meetings, for coffee, to church basements. You listen to stories, you identify, you trust and so you believe.

But that place beyond “I Believe”, that place called “I Know”, can only come from within. It is a result of your own experience, of living on the edge, on the threshold. It is a place where you can taste your own death.

“I Know” is the “inside job” that I kept hearing about. “I know” is beyond sobriety. It is a place where you are finally attached, at the hip, at the head, at the heart, to God. It is a place of quiet, a place of peace, a place of comfort, a place of safety. But now, instead of having the covers over your head, you feel all of this in the light of day with everything whirling around you.

I know –
•That there is NOTHING that I cannot handle today, as long as I stay connected with God. I have faced my greatest fear; I have walked through the valley of the shadow of death and I am here to say that you can survive it.
•I know that there is nothing worth drinking over.
•I know that there is nothing that a drink cannot make worse.
•I know that if you hold onto this program and to your Higher Power, you can pass over the threshold into the place of peace.
•I know that what doesn’t kill you WILL make you stronger.
•I know that my priorities are, in this order: my connection with God, my sobriety, and my relationships with those around me.
•I know that people are not gods, or even demigods. They are human and they will fail you.
•I know that God will never fail you. Even in the times of greatest pain, He is holding you and loving you. What you feel is Him carefully chiseling down the walls that are keeping you from Him.
•I know that God will not “render you white as snow unless you fully cooperate with Him.”
•I know that it is unhealthy for me to judge myself by what I perceive others think of me.
•I know that if I lay my head on my pillow tonight without alcohol in my body, it’s been a pretty good day.
•I know that I know longer “need to know.” Knowledge will not save me, trust in God will.

I wonder if there is a place beyond “I Know”? Is it the place called “I Am”?

The Challenge of Pentecost

by Bill Walsh

From John’s gospel on Pentecost Sunday we read that Jesus did three things when he greeted his fearful disciples in that locked room. He offered them peace. He breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” And then he said, “Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and who’s sins you retain are retained.”

Jesus could have said, “Peace be with you” and “Receive the Holy Spirit” to the crowd of disciples all at once, but scripture also says that he breathed on them. It would be comical if he tried breathing on all of them at once, like blowing out the candles on a birthday cake. Instead, he must have slowly and deliberately moved through the gathering, talking with each person so intimately that his breath touched the person receiving his words. How comforting that moment must have been for each disciple. I can only imagine that Jesus confidently and gently extinguished the fear in that room person by person.

That moment in the locked room defined Pentecost for us. Jesus offered his disciples the gift of the Holy Spirit and God’s peace, and he wanted them to bring that peace to a world overwhelmed by the power of fear, a fear that leads to the evil of this world. We are all broken, we are all flawed, and we all need to be forgiven. Sometimes, though, we don’t think that we deserve to be forgiven. We think that our actions have been too hurtful for forgiveness. And sometimes, in our arrogance, we don’t think that we need to be forgiven, and we refuse to admit how we have failed.

Everyone needs to feel forgiven. Everyone needs to know the healing power of forgiveness that frees us from our fear. Everyone needs to be freed from the evil that we do when we don’t feel forgiven. What if Jesus wasn’t giving his disciples the authority to choose whose sins should be forgiven and whose sins should be retained? What if he was commanding them to forgive everyone, because anyone who did not feel forgiven would remain trapped in his fear? And it is fear that generates the evil in this world.

Does forgiveness have healing power? Do we trust in that power? If we do, then our evangelical calling should be to bring God’s healing power of forgiveness to everyone, because it is through forgiveness that we will come to know God’s peace. We are called to go out into the world confidently and gently offering God‘s peace to each person we meet. Maybe we are called to extinguish the fear and evil in this world by teaching forgiveness to one person at a time?

Only for Today

Judy George

Little did I know that the day following the January 25-27 “Only for Today” women’s retreat that I would be sitting at my mother’s bedside escorting her into eternity. I want very much to communicate to you how incredibly important the retreat experience became for me during this time.

I kept a journal of sorts during those days relating the retreat to the experiences of January 28 when my mother was rushed unresponsive with virtually no pulse to the hospital to February 2 when she passed away. I’d like to share some thoughts from that time with you.

January 29 – One has to go alone (die) clearly but they do not have to be alone as they go, that’s why I’m here knitting, talking once in awhile but working really hard on being just here just now. I and we will continue this vigil throughout whatever this experience turns out to be. “Only for today, I will adapt to circumstances, without requiring all circumstances to be adapted to my own wishes.”

I’m trying to do now well whatever that means to me in this moment.

People do the best that they can. I am an optimist and know no other way to believe. So I will think about the good things. “I want to be kind, today and always, to everyone.”

My mother taught me to knit. For me knitting has become so much more than a hobby. It foundates my beliefs about spirit and life. The weaving, the texture, the color, the simplicity of two stitches with endless possibilities astounds me continually with life lessons as I work.

January 30 – “It’s not the what of now, it’s the how of now” that keeps me soft, aware of the feelings of others and working hard at inclusion of family members as we make difficult and irreversible decisions.

Consensus as to what next is still forming but in the midst of this very real time of life I am here, now. “The way through it is the way through it.”

January 31 – I wrote my mother’s obituary today. It seems so morbid to be doing this while she’s still alive but this is, no doubt, a one way street and I want to do this well. Almost an afterthought turns out to be what I really wanted to say. “Throughout her life Edna was a voracious reader and until the last few years produced a seemingly endless stream of mittens, sweaters, afghans, oil paintings, watercolors and ceramic pieces.” The meaning for me is that although Mom was unable to engage in words or actions of love and affirmation perhaps her way was to share the products of her creativity.

February 1 – A very hard day. The hospital cannot keep Mom. I broke down and sobbed. The thought of her taking an ambulance ride, the discomfort, the lurching, the cold of the day is just more than I can handle. One of us can go with her and it will be me. I will be present. “Only for today, I will firmly believe, despite appearances, that the good providence of God cares for me as no one else who exists in this world.”

February 2 – My mother died today. My brother, his wife and a priest were with her. As my brother tells it, as the priest’s prayer ended decades of age fell from my mother’s face, her skin glowed and she smiled as if seeing the very one she had waited her entire life to see and then with the final amen, she was gone.

Clearly the story does not end here but suffice it to say that when I registered for the retreat I did so simply because it sounded intriguing, when I attended the retreat I enjoyed it greatly but experienced no great movement or revelation but thanks to the retreat “all things worked together” and I was able to come from a deeply peaceful place to share my mother’s last days. Thank you and may God continue to bless the work of your ministry.

Momentum

Theresa Wiss











Everyone enjoys a good roll- the times in our life when everything seems to fall into place. When the pieces of our lives fit together nicely and neatly creating a pleasant picture. When we seem to catch all the “lucky” breaks and we’re riding high on a wave. Ah, yes, life is sweet from that vantage point – full of optimism, feel-good moments and great expectations for the future.

If only these days, weeks, months, even years could last forever. Much to our dismay these “good times” are interrupted, diminished, overshadowed, disfigured or sometimes smashed. Instead, we face cancer, the death of a child, a foreclosure, a divorce, or a job loss. Suddenly, our wondrous wave comes crashing to the shore. Our perfect picture is shattered into pieces.

We find ourselves overwhelmed with grief during these times, experiencing a deep sense of loss and questioning the meaning of life. Where did all our “good times” go?

As we move through the circumstances of our loss- whatever the particulars may be – we make an effort to pick ourselves up, tend to our wounds, and look for ways to return to the “good times”. But things aren’t the way they were before – life is not unchanging.

Life is made up of good times and difficult times and lots of experiences in between. Change, loss, and death are all part of life. To imagine a life without these parts is to imagine a world other than the world we live in. To live in the fantasy of a world where only “good times” happen to get away from my immediate experience of pain, I have to question what reality I’m really living in.

Finding our way during difficult times is prickly and painstakingly slow. Lately, it has occurred to me that the hardest part is recapturing momentum – re-establishing a rhythm in my daily life. It’s a wonderful feeling to face the day with energy, clarity and purpose. Without the thrust of momentum, it feels impossible to sustain feelings of peace and a sense of hope. This would be impossible if we were truly alone. The truth is, of course, is that we are not alone. We don’t have to rely on our own petty strength. God is with us and will sustain us. God is the wind under our wings and the One who puts the spring back in our step.

Live the Challenge

Fr. John Baptist Pesce, C.P.

The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy of the Second Vatican Council is an immense help in profiting from Lent which the Church terms “this great season of grace” (Preface for Lent II) when in the chapter on the liturgical year, we are given the words:

The season of Lent has a twofold character: primarily by recalling or preparing for baptism and by penance, it disposes the faithful, who more diligently hear the word of God and devote themselves to prayer to celebrate the paschal mystery.

The emphasis is on the celebration of the central mystery of our faith, the paschal mystery, the passion unto death, resurrection and ascension of the Lord Jesus. While it is true that every Christian liturgy celebrates the paschal mystery (especially in the Eucharist), Lent memorializes this in a unique fashion and receives its culmination in the Easter Triduum.

The paschal mystery is, in the first place, the mystery of Christ but, as Blessed Abbot Columba Marmion highlighted many years ago, the mystery of Christ passes into our lives. The mystery of Christ becomes the mystery of Christians. Baptism initiates us into the paschal mystery. The responsibility of disciples of Jesus is to live out that mystery in their daily lives. By the paschal mystery, Jesus by dying destroyed our death and by rising restored our life. Now we are to continue that process and thus build up the body of Christ which is the Church.

The discipline of Lent: the more diligent hearing of the word of God (as expressed in the above quote – “diligent hearing” obviously includes, although unstated, quiet reflection on that word), the penitential elements (which, for the most part the Church leaves us to determine for ourselves), the dedication to prayer and service to others, in particular the needy and marginalized which is very much encouraged during “this great season of grace” – all have as their goal to empty us of our self-absorption and open us up more and more to being possessed by God and transformed into Christ. In this process, the Church proclaims the paschal mystery and with our grace-cooperation accomplishes it.
We die ever more completely to sin and live more fully unto God.

It is because the Church never takes our eyes off of the goal of Lent that the Church terms Lent “this joyful season of Lent” (Preface for Lent I). But how many of us associate Lent with joy? The Church sees Lent, “God’s gift to your family,” as a “joyful season” because the Church knows from experience that this grace-filled season has the power of the Spirit to transform believers more and more into the image of the Lord crucified and risen from the dead and thereby to enable the Church to fulfill the mission given by the Lord, expressed by the Church thus “to render God the Father and his incarnate Son present and as it were visible [in the world]” (CMW, 21). Lent, entered into in an active, generous and intelligent fashion, enables the Church to be what the Lord Jesus intended, a visible sign, a sacrament, of God. There is, indeed, reason to rejoice in this.

Accept the gift. Live the challenge. Experience the joy as you with the community of believers contribute to the design of God.

In Hope We are Saved

Fr. David Cinquegrani, C.P.

My trip home at Christmastime found me delayed in the Detroit Metro Airport for five long hours. Just enough time to read and ponder Pope Benedict XVI's new encyclical Spes Salvi (In Hope We Are Saved). The Latin title comes fromthe words in Romans 8:24 ("For in hope we are saved") and leads the reader into the understanding that without faith in God, the human race falls into despair and so can be capable of cruelty and injustice, but with hope, can be capable of almost any good and generous act. Benedict centers on the revelation of God in Jesus Christ but asserts that we put too much emphasis on personal salvation and not enough on the communal nature of redemption and what we must do for people around us as part of our moral obligation as Christians.

To bring these points home, the Pope, in this 76 page document, reviews the lives of saints from various times in history. Unfortunately, he did not include any lay persons in his examples of heroic Christians, though we all know many in our lives. As I sat in the airport, I watched intently as a family with three children, one of whom had Downs Syndrome, tried to pass the five hours in patient waiting. The love between and among them gave me a personal example of hope and reminded me that God is alive in each one of us and can be recognized easily by those who are searching.