Though I walk in darkness, through the needle's eye of death, you never leave my side. - Shelter Me, O God, Bob Hurd
Great readings on perseverance today, including a Psalm (121) that once helped keep me alive.
Showing posts with label Parish life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parish life. Show all posts
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
It's a good sign . . .
. . . when the new pastoral associate for music ministry sacrifices a half hour of her first rehearsal so that we could pray a really awesome evensong together!
Friday, March 29, 2013
Holy Thursday/Good Friday adoration reflection, 2013
(The time indicated below is for the benefit of one brother who might like to know a specific time that I was lifting him up in prayer, and others who are also praying for him. Also, this color text was in my mind but not on the paper.)
With Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel at St. Helen Parish:
Usually, Lord, I am here at a later hour, and my meditations have moved on to the events of that holiest Friday when you finished pouring out your life for me. Perhaps I have given this time with you in the Garden short shrift, so maybe it is appropriate, Lord, that I am here earlier this year, at the conclusion of a Lent in which I have frequently fallen asleep, as (if I may be so bold) my fellow disciples are doing this night. You have called us to keep watch, and though you have gone off to pray, Lord, where I can't see you, I will wait this night with Peter, James and John, and await in prayer what is to come.
After night prayer:
Fr. Satish, our associate pastor, has encouraged us to view the Triduum through the eyes/perspective of one of the witnesses of these events. I am finding myself drawn to Peter:
Take this first Eucharist that you shared with us tonight, Lord. Even with two thousand years of perspective, even as deeply as I think I've entered into and experienced it, I know I have only begun to feast on your Presence. How much more confusing it must have been for Peter and the others who partook of this Paschal meal with you while your Passover was not yet complete! No wonder we celebrate these three days as one event of salvation. You give us your Body and Blood in the upper room, but the giving isn't finished until tomorrow when you die, or fulfilled until Sunday morning when you rise again, or completed until we are transformed in you. Just as each Passover your chosen people celebrate their own delivery from slavery, so at each Eucharist we are present with you in the upper room, and at Calvary, and at the heavenly banquet we will celebrate with you for all eternity. Then we will get it.
But now I just hunger for you, Lord, that the infinite, eternal, holy You which (whom) you give us will take hold of my limited, time-bound sinful self and transform me as you long to, for my sake.
And like Peter, Lord, I often don't fully get the fullness of this foot washing thing. I keep feeling as if being yours carries with it some sort of perquisite, some benefit that I can get puffed up about. I sometimes feel "above" being served and so miss the crux of really laying down my life and serving. Of course, tomorrow you're going to show what that really means, but we're still in the Garden, and I think I shouldn't rush ahead just yet. Let me realize for a while that I'm still confused, I still don't "get" all of it. And though I've fallen asleep at times this Lent, Lord, I know you're going to use even that for good, somehow.
How often, Lord, we eat of you without allowing you to fully transform us into you.
11:07 p.m. (which is 8:07 where a dear brother is who is on my heart:)
As I sit here in your Presence, keeping watch, I am reminded both of my unworthiness of you and of the wrong ideas I've had of my unworthiness. I've had the idea that it is either something that disqualifies me from you or something I must amend. I know that this thing you're doing for me, Jesus, is exactly to address the whole issue of my sin, to teach me the full extent of love. I'm so grateful to be here with you, and pray that my brother has a deep sense of being with you, too, this night in the Garden and throughout the sacred Triduum. Bless him, Lord, with a deep, peaceful awareness of being in your Presence, of being in You.
Has Simon Peter drawn his sword yet and cut off Malchus' ear? So many of us who follow you are trying to defend you rather than lay down our lives with you! We think we're doing right, but in getting militant we fail to love, fail to allow you to love through us. Help us instead drink the Cup you have given us, the cup of your Blood.
later:
As I sit and struggle for alertness, for focus, I'm struck by how judgmental we can be of others' shortcomings. How often I hear people put down the apostles for not quite "getting it," failing to see how inadequately we ourselves have gotten it so far. Likewise when we spout the phrase, "There but for the grace of God go I," we too often mean something more like a Pharisaic prayer: "Thank you, God, that I'm not like that wretch!" It is an odd and great blessing to know my own wretchedness and be transformed by Jesus out of it.
My Jesus, you're about to be betrayed by someone you love. Too often it has been me. I pray tonight that instead of abandoning you, denying you, or betraying you, I might instead walk along your way.
With Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel at St. Helen Parish:
Usually, Lord, I am here at a later hour, and my meditations have moved on to the events of that holiest Friday when you finished pouring out your life for me. Perhaps I have given this time with you in the Garden short shrift, so maybe it is appropriate, Lord, that I am here earlier this year, at the conclusion of a Lent in which I have frequently fallen asleep, as (if I may be so bold) my fellow disciples are doing this night. You have called us to keep watch, and though you have gone off to pray, Lord, where I can't see you, I will wait this night with Peter, James and John, and await in prayer what is to come.
After night prayer:
Fr. Satish, our associate pastor, has encouraged us to view the Triduum through the eyes/perspective of one of the witnesses of these events. I am finding myself drawn to Peter:
"I would go to jail or even die for you!"Lord, you know how like him I am anyway: rushing into commitments I don't understand; thinking I've "got it" in one moment only to have you remind me in the next that I will never in this life be able to fully "get" all of you there is to be gotten. And how many times have I denied you with my own decisions? You don't rebuke me harshly in any of this, Lord, unless I get stubborn about it.
"You will never wash my feet!"
"I do not know the man!"
Take this first Eucharist that you shared with us tonight, Lord. Even with two thousand years of perspective, even as deeply as I think I've entered into and experienced it, I know I have only begun to feast on your Presence. How much more confusing it must have been for Peter and the others who partook of this Paschal meal with you while your Passover was not yet complete! No wonder we celebrate these three days as one event of salvation. You give us your Body and Blood in the upper room, but the giving isn't finished until tomorrow when you die, or fulfilled until Sunday morning when you rise again, or completed until we are transformed in you. Just as each Passover your chosen people celebrate their own delivery from slavery, so at each Eucharist we are present with you in the upper room, and at Calvary, and at the heavenly banquet we will celebrate with you for all eternity. Then we will get it.
But now I just hunger for you, Lord, that the infinite, eternal, holy You which (whom) you give us will take hold of my limited, time-bound sinful self and transform me as you long to, for my sake.
And like Peter, Lord, I often don't fully get the fullness of this foot washing thing. I keep feeling as if being yours carries with it some sort of perquisite, some benefit that I can get puffed up about. I sometimes feel "above" being served and so miss the crux of really laying down my life and serving. Of course, tomorrow you're going to show what that really means, but we're still in the Garden, and I think I shouldn't rush ahead just yet. Let me realize for a while that I'm still confused, I still don't "get" all of it. And though I've fallen asleep at times this Lent, Lord, I know you're going to use even that for good, somehow.
How often, Lord, we eat of you without allowing you to fully transform us into you.
11:07 p.m. (which is 8:07 where a dear brother is who is on my heart:)
As I sit here in your Presence, keeping watch, I am reminded both of my unworthiness of you and of the wrong ideas I've had of my unworthiness. I've had the idea that it is either something that disqualifies me from you or something I must amend. I know that this thing you're doing for me, Jesus, is exactly to address the whole issue of my sin, to teach me the full extent of love. I'm so grateful to be here with you, and pray that my brother has a deep sense of being with you, too, this night in the Garden and throughout the sacred Triduum. Bless him, Lord, with a deep, peaceful awareness of being in your Presence, of being in You.
Has Simon Peter drawn his sword yet and cut off Malchus' ear? So many of us who follow you are trying to defend you rather than lay down our lives with you! We think we're doing right, but in getting militant we fail to love, fail to allow you to love through us. Help us instead drink the Cup you have given us, the cup of your Blood.
later:
As I sit and struggle for alertness, for focus, I'm struck by how judgmental we can be of others' shortcomings. How often I hear people put down the apostles for not quite "getting it," failing to see how inadequately we ourselves have gotten it so far. Likewise when we spout the phrase, "There but for the grace of God go I," we too often mean something more like a Pharisaic prayer: "Thank you, God, that I'm not like that wretch!" It is an odd and great blessing to know my own wretchedness and be transformed by Jesus out of it.
My Jesus, you're about to be betrayed by someone you love. Too often it has been me. I pray tonight that instead of abandoning you, denying you, or betraying you, I might instead walk along your way.
Monday, March 04, 2013
CMA (not the Country Music Awards)
I get really frustrated when I go to mass and most of the homily is a program pitch. More on that in a moment, but first, the part I liked.
There has been discussion about the work that the evangelization committee has (or hasn't) been able to accomplish, and as I have been listening to outside descriptions of how this panel has been going about their "business," my immediate response is, "Don't these people know Jesus?"
So in our pastor's brief comments, he focused on the Samaritan woman's evangelization efforts. She didn't lecture anyone, she merely shared her encounter of Christ with them. I thought this was an incredibly pertinent insight, often neglected in the context of the other big themes of this reading. I also can't help but wonder how many people in the church didn't have the foggiest idea what Fr. Dave was talking about.
The remainder of the homily time was devoted to having us fill out envelopes for the archdiocesan Catholic Ministries Appeal. I understand that our bishop is trying to increase the participation level for his work, but really? Step-by-step instructions on filling out the form on the envelope?
And since I played at all the weekend masses: 3 times?!
Sigh. The sad thing is that, by having me do that in Mass, he only got what I had in my pocket, when I'd have undoubtedly given more if I'd written a check.
There has been discussion about the work that the evangelization committee has (or hasn't) been able to accomplish, and as I have been listening to outside descriptions of how this panel has been going about their "business," my immediate response is, "Don't these people know Jesus?"
So in our pastor's brief comments, he focused on the Samaritan woman's evangelization efforts. She didn't lecture anyone, she merely shared her encounter of Christ with them. I thought this was an incredibly pertinent insight, often neglected in the context of the other big themes of this reading. I also can't help but wonder how many people in the church didn't have the foggiest idea what Fr. Dave was talking about.
The remainder of the homily time was devoted to having us fill out envelopes for the archdiocesan Catholic Ministries Appeal. I understand that our bishop is trying to increase the participation level for his work, but really? Step-by-step instructions on filling out the form on the envelope?
And since I played at all the weekend masses: 3 times?!
Sigh. The sad thing is that, by having me do that in Mass, he only got what I had in my pocket, when I'd have undoubtedly given more if I'd written a check.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Thought from retreat
Near the beginning of the day, our regional liaison for the charismatic renewal was sharing some thoughts from Pope Benedict's document on the current Year of Faith, and some other thoughts from the Holy Father's Ash Wednesday homily. I'm not sure which of these was the source for the thought that caught my attention and resonated for me: the idea that the Eucharist is the summit of worship. I know plenty of people who believe that social outreach ministry is a higher calling.
I'm sure I must have written before against a popular approach to our faith that has begun to dominate over the past century: that its chief value is in how it moves us to be a force for social change in the world. In Catholic circles, the theology behind this thought is sometimes summed up very briefly in a very reasonable sounding idea, "The Eucharist is created for us, not vice versa." I had a former pastor, whom I love dearly, who was fond of quoting this as he opposed any excesses, as he understood them, in Eucharistic adoration. But there are a couple of truths which get mixed up in this misunderstanding, and of these, the first is probably the one that most gets at the root cause of the error.
It is the failure to fully understand that the Holy Eucharist is Jesus Christ.
Of course, it is ridiculous to suggest that any of us fully understands this. Only when we participate fully in the heavenly banquet for all eternity will we begin to approach this level of knowledge of God. Yet even understanding to the smallest extent that, in ways we do not fully understand, the Eucharist is Jesus Christ, leads us to understand that we were indeed created for the Eucharist - though not to meet His needs, for He has none. And this is where those who use that phrase have it right, for indeed the Eucharist was instituted to meet our need for spiritual food. Done right, worshiping the Lord in the Eucharist is a key element of eating his Body and drinking his Blood. (More on which aspect of Christ's body was created/instituted for which in a bit.)
First, though, is the thing that this modern theology usually gets right when its adherents lament the practice of regular Eucharistic adoration (an objection which they have wrong, in most cases). They point out that the traditionalists' emphasis on reverence for the consecrated elements in the context of the Mass often comes at the expense of a recognition that Christ is just as really present in the assembled Body as in the Eucharistic elements of the Body and the Blood. They are often right about this, yet the one ought not come at the expense of the other. In this sense, it is true that we and the Eucharist have indeed been created and instituted for each other. According to God's plan for us, we do not become his Body - and individually parts of it - to the degree God intends unless we are fed by the spiritual food, in which Christ gives us himself as the nourishment we most need.
So my chief objection to the phrase as it seems (to me) to be misused is in its implication that the purpose of the Eucharist is to equip us for the social outreach that many mistakenly consider the "real purpose" of Christianity. Indeed, this viewpoint holds that the chief purpose of our worship is to make us the best version of ourselves - itself a concept on which Matthew Kelly has written extensively that is worth investing our energy and effort into - so that we might go forth and do what we're really supposed to be about. The truth of the matter is that we frequently put too little effort into the things that God might have us do, but the purpose of our relationship with God is not for us to do those things. Rather, a relationship with God is the greatest good our lives will ever know, and inevitably when it is all that it should be it leads to our transformation - which is of course a good thing - and our social outreach - which is also a good thing.
And yet to say that our personal growth or our social ministry is the purpose of our relationship with God gets the two greatest commandments out of order. Jesus said that the greatest commandment was to love the Lord our God with all of our heart, soul, mind and strength, and that the second is like it: to love our neighbor as ourselves. Now, these two are inextricably linked for us, but their linking does not make the second commandment equal to the first.
Of course, God is love, and all who live in love live in God, and it is impossible to love God without loving our neighbor. And if we love our neighbor rightly, we will enter more deeply into our relationship with God in the process. So maybe this whole megapost is just an arguing of unimportant semantics.
And yet it seems to me that I see way more people lose their perspective on the truth by focusing on service of others and trying to let their spirituality flow from that than by focusing on worshiping God (though perhaps I've just been blessed by being around true believers). Putting service ahead of worship puts us at risk of despairing over the injustice we perceive in our neighbors' suffering. Worshiping first reminds us that God is God, and we, though his Body, are not God. We are his presence in the world, yet in God's infinite eternity he remains greater than any finite collection of our finite minds can fathom. It is certainly possible to go through the rituals of worship without entering into a true relationship with God in the process, but then the lack of fruit - the absence of transformation and service - eventually becomes evident.
I'm sure I must have written before against a popular approach to our faith that has begun to dominate over the past century: that its chief value is in how it moves us to be a force for social change in the world. In Catholic circles, the theology behind this thought is sometimes summed up very briefly in a very reasonable sounding idea, "The Eucharist is created for us, not vice versa." I had a former pastor, whom I love dearly, who was fond of quoting this as he opposed any excesses, as he understood them, in Eucharistic adoration. But there are a couple of truths which get mixed up in this misunderstanding, and of these, the first is probably the one that most gets at the root cause of the error.
It is the failure to fully understand that the Holy Eucharist is Jesus Christ.
Of course, it is ridiculous to suggest that any of us fully understands this. Only when we participate fully in the heavenly banquet for all eternity will we begin to approach this level of knowledge of God. Yet even understanding to the smallest extent that, in ways we do not fully understand, the Eucharist is Jesus Christ, leads us to understand that we were indeed created for the Eucharist - though not to meet His needs, for He has none. And this is where those who use that phrase have it right, for indeed the Eucharist was instituted to meet our need for spiritual food. Done right, worshiping the Lord in the Eucharist is a key element of eating his Body and drinking his Blood. (More on which aspect of Christ's body was created/instituted for which in a bit.)
First, though, is the thing that this modern theology usually gets right when its adherents lament the practice of regular Eucharistic adoration (an objection which they have wrong, in most cases). They point out that the traditionalists' emphasis on reverence for the consecrated elements in the context of the Mass often comes at the expense of a recognition that Christ is just as really present in the assembled Body as in the Eucharistic elements of the Body and the Blood. They are often right about this, yet the one ought not come at the expense of the other. In this sense, it is true that we and the Eucharist have indeed been created and instituted for each other. According to God's plan for us, we do not become his Body - and individually parts of it - to the degree God intends unless we are fed by the spiritual food, in which Christ gives us himself as the nourishment we most need.
So my chief objection to the phrase as it seems (to me) to be misused is in its implication that the purpose of the Eucharist is to equip us for the social outreach that many mistakenly consider the "real purpose" of Christianity. Indeed, this viewpoint holds that the chief purpose of our worship is to make us the best version of ourselves - itself a concept on which Matthew Kelly has written extensively that is worth investing our energy and effort into - so that we might go forth and do what we're really supposed to be about. The truth of the matter is that we frequently put too little effort into the things that God might have us do, but the purpose of our relationship with God is not for us to do those things. Rather, a relationship with God is the greatest good our lives will ever know, and inevitably when it is all that it should be it leads to our transformation - which is of course a good thing - and our social outreach - which is also a good thing.
And yet to say that our personal growth or our social ministry is the purpose of our relationship with God gets the two greatest commandments out of order. Jesus said that the greatest commandment was to love the Lord our God with all of our heart, soul, mind and strength, and that the second is like it: to love our neighbor as ourselves. Now, these two are inextricably linked for us, but their linking does not make the second commandment equal to the first.
Of course, God is love, and all who live in love live in God, and it is impossible to love God without loving our neighbor. And if we love our neighbor rightly, we will enter more deeply into our relationship with God in the process. So maybe this whole megapost is just an arguing of unimportant semantics.
And yet it seems to me that I see way more people lose their perspective on the truth by focusing on service of others and trying to let their spirituality flow from that than by focusing on worshiping God (though perhaps I've just been blessed by being around true believers). Putting service ahead of worship puts us at risk of despairing over the injustice we perceive in our neighbors' suffering. Worshiping first reminds us that God is God, and we, though his Body, are not God. We are his presence in the world, yet in God's infinite eternity he remains greater than any finite collection of our finite minds can fathom. It is certainly possible to go through the rituals of worship without entering into a true relationship with God in the process, but then the lack of fruit - the absence of transformation and service - eventually becomes evident.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Put on the spot
At Jodi's reception this afternoon, I was caught off guard when one of our assistant music directors mentioned that Fr. Dave wanted to know if I'd like to say a few words to Jodi. My first thought, which I voiced to Matt, was that I'd already said what I wanted to to Jodi during the 8:00 mass when, during the sign of peace, I told her, "Hey, this isn't goodbye, y'know?"
In the time it took him to walk around the table, I realized that I wasn't being asked so much to say something to Jodi as being given an opportunity to honor her, and I realized there were actually one or two things for which I really wanted to affirm her, that I thought were really important for her to hear, and which I knew no one had yet addressed, nor was likely to. So I called his name before he could walk away, and nodded that yes, I'd like to say something, and said the same to Fr. Dave about thirty seconds later when he approached me with the same question. Just a couple minutes later, it turned out that I was up first. (I am invoking my right "to revise and extend my remarks.")
I started by referring back to the tumultuous years between when our previous successful director, Dawn, had left, and when Jodi had finally succeeded her. We went through four transitions in three years, as her three predecessors just didn't quite fit for one reason or another. The stability Jodi has brought to the music ministry over the past eleven years has allowed us to grow in ways that just can't happen when there is that much turmoil. Since then, through many changes to the choir in the meanwhile as folks have arrived and left, the repertoire we've established has both expanded and deepened, as we have learned so much wonderful new music and better honed the older pieces we do. And our familiarity with each other has helped us know what's likely to happen next in those moments of uncertainty, such as when that first downbeat is going to drop even when there hasn't been a head nod to warn the guitarist that it's coming. (At that point Jodi grabbed the mic to explain how often she'd left me hanging, and how I'd learned how to "be there" anyway as a result of our years of working together. Oh, and I hadn't really planned any of this, but that part hadn't even entered my mind but an instant before it came out of my mouth.)
I went on to the single thing I've most appreciated about Jodi, out of which all the other things (and there are many, many other things) grow. It's one thing to have a director who calls you to excellence and won't settle for anything less than your best effort, who has the skills and the insight to bring that out of you. It is quite another when the basis for her leadership is her own relationship with the Lord and the entire music ministry grows out of our shared spirituality. It isn't just that the music has been so excellent, through her hard work as well as ours - that in itself would be a laudable thing. Even better, it has been an offering of praise and worship, not just of the choir and music ministry but of the entire community of faith. As wonderful as excellent music is in and of itself, it is this basis by which God transforms it into a manifestation of God's glory, which draws others into his transforming love.
As those at the reception acknowledged the truth they'd heard, there really wasn't any way to then go back and speak of her patience with us, her affirmation, her development of our skills and the chances she has given so many of us to grow musically and in public ministry, nor of the caring, loving environment she has nurtured in the music ministry. But I did make sure to hug her in a quiet moment before leaving, to take the chance to tell her that I love her and that we'll see her soon. I'm so glad she isn't going anywhere!
In the time it took him to walk around the table, I realized that I wasn't being asked so much to say something to Jodi as being given an opportunity to honor her, and I realized there were actually one or two things for which I really wanted to affirm her, that I thought were really important for her to hear, and which I knew no one had yet addressed, nor was likely to. So I called his name before he could walk away, and nodded that yes, I'd like to say something, and said the same to Fr. Dave about thirty seconds later when he approached me with the same question. Just a couple minutes later, it turned out that I was up first. (I am invoking my right "to revise and extend my remarks.")
I started by referring back to the tumultuous years between when our previous successful director, Dawn, had left, and when Jodi had finally succeeded her. We went through four transitions in three years, as her three predecessors just didn't quite fit for one reason or another. The stability Jodi has brought to the music ministry over the past eleven years has allowed us to grow in ways that just can't happen when there is that much turmoil. Since then, through many changes to the choir in the meanwhile as folks have arrived and left, the repertoire we've established has both expanded and deepened, as we have learned so much wonderful new music and better honed the older pieces we do. And our familiarity with each other has helped us know what's likely to happen next in those moments of uncertainty, such as when that first downbeat is going to drop even when there hasn't been a head nod to warn the guitarist that it's coming. (At that point Jodi grabbed the mic to explain how often she'd left me hanging, and how I'd learned how to "be there" anyway as a result of our years of working together. Oh, and I hadn't really planned any of this, but that part hadn't even entered my mind but an instant before it came out of my mouth.)
I went on to the single thing I've most appreciated about Jodi, out of which all the other things (and there are many, many other things) grow. It's one thing to have a director who calls you to excellence and won't settle for anything less than your best effort, who has the skills and the insight to bring that out of you. It is quite another when the basis for her leadership is her own relationship with the Lord and the entire music ministry grows out of our shared spirituality. It isn't just that the music has been so excellent, through her hard work as well as ours - that in itself would be a laudable thing. Even better, it has been an offering of praise and worship, not just of the choir and music ministry but of the entire community of faith. As wonderful as excellent music is in and of itself, it is this basis by which God transforms it into a manifestation of God's glory, which draws others into his transforming love.
As those at the reception acknowledged the truth they'd heard, there really wasn't any way to then go back and speak of her patience with us, her affirmation, her development of our skills and the chances she has given so many of us to grow musically and in public ministry, nor of the caring, loving environment she has nurtured in the music ministry. But I did make sure to hug her in a quiet moment before leaving, to take the chance to tell her that I love her and that we'll see her soon. I'm so glad she isn't going anywhere!
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