Pages Menu
RssFacebook
Categories Menu

Posted by on Oct 24, 2007

An I-Thou Moment

She walked down the street with a somewhat shuffling gait, shoulders hunched with the weight of life’s challenges, and holding a cigarette by her side, from which she took an occasional puff. Her hair hung long, a bit below her shoulder blades. She wore a jumper made of a predominantly orange/pink fabric – stripes with a floral pattern in them – over a pink floral print blouse whose pattern clashed with the jumper fabric. She looked about 50 years old and as if life had not been good to her.

It was a hot day in October, in the 80s, and she was walking towards her town’s downtown stores, perhaps in search of a bit of cool in an air conditioned building. Most people on seeing her would have walked right by, averting their eyes to avoid a request for “spare change.” She looked like a resident of a cheap apartment or a local half-way house.

At the corner, a younger woman was waiting to cross the street. She wore tan shorts and a white tank top over a purple cami. Her hair was also long, but well brushed and pulled into a pony tail for comfort in the heat. She had a canvas shoulder bag and had obviously been shopping for groceries that day.

As the older woman approached the corner, the younger woman smiled at her and greeted her. The older woman’s reaction was subtle but stunning. Her shoulders straightened. She raised her head. The smile that was on her face was not visible from behind, but it was obvious that her whole body was smiling in return. She had been recognized and honored as a person. It made all the difference.

Observing this encounter from the confines of my car, I was reminded of Martin Buber’s insight that there are two ways of interacting with the “other.” We can interact in the realm of I-It or I-Thou. The I-It interaction does not recognize the other as an equal or even as human. The I-Thou recognizes the other individual as another human being, a child of God, worthy of respect and love. This kind of encounter (I-Thou) makes the difference between a satisfying, life-giving interchange and the kind of sterile, unfulfilling, relationship in which people mistreat or even exploit the other.

As Christians, we are called to meet people, the world and the eternal in I-Thou mode. It is in these encounters that the good news of our Lord will be preached wordlessly but most effectively.

Read More

Posted by on Oct 21, 2007

World Mission Sunday

World Mission Sunday

mission-children.jpg

Today is World Mission Sunday. We are reminded that the mission of the Church (the People of God) is to share the Good News through all the world. Today I offer a few quotes from people working in “the field.”

“Growing up I met so many Sisters who visited the sick and families, who taught about Jesus. They made a big impression on me, nurturing my desire to become like them … We must be the Lord’s voice to the poor, telling of His great love.”  Sr. Christine Mwaka, Zambia

“We are forming missionaries to bring hope — the hope of our Lord — to our people. … Above all, we want the hope we have found in Jesus, our joy in following the Lord as priests, to uplift the poor and those in need.”  Fr. Anthony Jayakody, rector of Our Lady of Lanka Seminary in Sri Lanka

“My greatest strength comes from receiving our Lord in the Eucharist … My 14-year-old daughter prays that God will give me the wisdom to be an effective catechist. My prayer is that too, and also that the Lord will be with me as I teach about Him, opening the hearts of those who hear.”  Peter Soko, catechist in Zambia

For more information, click here to see the website of The Society for the Propagation of the Faith. 

Read More

Posted by on Oct 16, 2007

World Mission Sunday

Quote of the Day – Benedict XVI, from Deus Caritas Est

harvest-bounty.jpg

“For the Church, charity is not a kind of welfare activity which could equally well be left to others, but is a part of her nature, an indispensable expression of her very being.” 

                                                                        From Deus Caritas Est, Part II, Paragraph 25

Something to think about … How does our sharing express our love?

Read More

Posted by on Oct 10, 2007

World Mission Sunday

Quote of the Day – Thomas Merton on Gratitude

“Every breath we draw is a gift of God’s love,

every moment of existence is a grace, for it brings

with it immense graces from God. Gratitude

therefore takes nothing for granted, is never

unresponsive, is constantly awakening to new wonder

and to praise of the goodness of God. For the grateful

person knows that God is good, not by hearsay but by

experience. And that is what makes all the difference.”

                       Thomas Merton in Thoughts in Solitude

Read More

Posted by on Oct 1, 2007

World Mission Sunday

St. Thérèse of Lisieux, Saint of the Day

Today, October 1, is the feast of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, the Little Flower. This is a picture of her as a child.

As faithful readers will recall, St. Thérèse is one of my favorite saints. I have already written about her (see my post for September 4, 2007, Triumph of the Lowly) and will not go into great detail here. Suffice it to say that in her short 24 years, she gave to the church a great gift, the Little Way. She delighted in the small things of life and determined that her calling was to love God in all His creatures and in all of creation. Although she entered a convent at the age of 15 and died there at 24, her writings have reached beyond the convent walls and touched people great and small since her death from tuberculosis in 1897.

Her Little Way to holiness is one to which all of us are called. It consists of doing the everyday things in “mindful” ways, paying attention and acting in love as we go about our everyday routines.

As she said, “I am a very little soul, who can offer only very little things to the Lord.”

In another place she wrote,”Love proves itself by deeds, so how am I to show my love? Great deeds are forbidden me. The only way I can prove my love is by scattering flowers and these flowers are every little sacrifice, every glance and word, and the doing of the least actions for love.”

As she neared her death, in the midst of a great time of personal spiritual darkness, she assured her sisters, “I will spend my Heaven doing good on earth,” and, “After my death I will let fall a shower of roses.”

When she overheard two of the other nuns wondering what would ever be said about her at her funeral, since she was so young and had really not done anything of note in her life, she was delighted. She had never wanted to be noticed as any different than the other sisters with whom she lived. Yet within just a few years of her death, her autobiography and other writings were being translated into all the major languages of the world. Her Little Way influenced theologians, popes, bishops, priests, and thousands of others both inside and outside the Church. In recognition of the depth of her contribution to the Church, Pope John Paul II, named her a Doctor of the Church in 1997.

For a more complete biographies, see:

http://therese.kashalinka.com

http://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=105

http://www.thereseoflisieux.org/

Read More

Posted by on Sep 23, 2007

World Mission Sunday

Subtle Signs of God

Changes in the seasons on California’s Central Coast are marked by subtle signs, especially near the ocean. The climate is classified as “Mediterranean,” meaning there’s a wet season and a dry season. There are some temperature variations between the two seasons, but the presence of the ocean tends to moderate the amount of change. A really hot summer day records temperatures in the 80s. A really cold winter day may have lows near freezing. But, generally, the temperatures are not extreme.

As the terms “wet” and “dry” imply, the biggest variable is the probability of measurable rainfall. Rain is scarce from late April to mid-October, sometimes even later. With the first major rainfall, children and even some adults are seen outside “dancing” for joy, twirling around with their hands raised over their heads, enjoying the freshness of the rain.

When I first arrived in California over 30 years ago, I often missed the signs of the seasonal changes. The changing color of the poison oak leaves was not at all as obvious to me as the changing color of the leaves of the maple and oak trees at home in Eastern Washington had been. The return of green grasses on the hills and fields by December didn’t signal the arrival of Advent and Christmas for me as they do now.

There are many other examples, but I won’t bore you with them here. Suffice it to say that I’ve become more aware of subtlety over the years.

A couple of days ago, I saw one of those subtle signs of transition while out walking near my home. The Monarch butterflies are returning. They come every year about this time to the eucalyptus groves near my home and stay until mid-March, the start of spring.

On sunny winter days, they flutter all over the neighborhood, sampling the nectar of winter blooming flowers and weeds. On cold, stormy winter days, as waves crash thunderously on the nearby beaches, they huddle together for warmth on the branches of the eucalyptus and cypress trees. They are beautiful.

Seeing the butterflies and the other subtle signs of the changing seasons here reminds me of the way God often works in our lives, very subtly, but with occasional flashes of brilliant beauty. Over time and through the seasons, we, like the butterflies, grow to be signs of His grace and presence in our world.

Read More

Posted by on Sep 22, 2007

Saint Thomas of Villanova: Almsgiver, Father of the Poor, and Model of Bishops

Saint Thomas of Villanova was born to a family of modest means in Fuentellana, Spain in 1488. His father was a miller and his parents were known for their generosity to the poor.

Thomas was educated as a child and at sixteen entered the University of Alcalá. While there, he earned advanced degrees in Theology. By 1514, he received the chair of arts, logic and philosophy. He was offered the chair of natural philosophy at the University of Salamanca, one of the oldest and most prestigious universities in Europe, but declined it in order to enter the Augustinian order in 1516. He was ordained a priest in 1518. His new duties included teaching scholastic theology at the Salamanca Convent of his order. As the years passed, his duties expanded to include preaching in many areas of Spain. Eventually he was named to the position of court preacher to Emperor Charles V (Charles I of Spain).

Thomas held many positions of responsibility among the Augustinians, including the position of provincial-prior in Andalusia and Castile. During those years, he sent the first Augustinian missionaries to Mexico (1533). In 1544, he was nominated to serve as Archbishop of Valencia, a post that had been open for nearly one hundred years. He had declined the position of Bishop of Granada previously, but this time he accepted the position as a matter of obedience to his superiors.

Thomas of Villanova was the thirty-second bishop and eighth archbishop of Valencia. He served in this role for eleven years. During his time as archbishop, he began a series of reforms and initiatives in service of the poor, for which he received the titles of “Almsgiver,” “Father of the Poor,” and “Model of Bishops” from Pope Paul V at his beatification in 1618. The reforms included abolition of excessive privileges and unreasonable exemptions for the clergy, visits to parishes in the archdiocese, and abolition of underground prisons. He set up institutions to serve the poor in practical ways, including rebuilding Valencia’s general hospital that had been destroyed by fire, setting up two colleges, including one for the children of the poor, founding a home for orphans and children whose parents could not support them, and having Mass offered early in the morning, so working-class people could attend before going to their jobs.

The palace in which Thomas lived as archbishop was always open to the poor. Anyone who came for help received it, with hundreds of people receiving meals through the years. In every city, he appointed people to seek out those “respectable” people who were in need but hesitated or did not think to ask for help. To these he provided clothing, food, or money to help them get back on their feet. To workmen, farmers, and mechanics, he provided tools, seeds, livestock and other items they needed to be able to earn their livings again.

Thomas himself lived simply, mending his own clothing and repairing things as needed. He spent much time in prayer and study. He was known for his supernatural gifts, including healing the sick, resolving conflicts, and bringing people closer to God. He was a mystic and his writings and sermons include practical rules and reflections regarding mystic theology.

Despite his education and commitment to reform in the Church, Thomas did not participated in the Council of Trent (1545-1563). Many reasons have been given for his absence, including illness, the difficulty of travel, and the press of his duties to his people and as advisor to the emperor.

Thomas of Villanova died of angina pectoris at the age of 67, at the end of his daily Mass. He was buried in the cathedral of Valencia. Pope Alexander VII canonized him on November 1, 1658.

Descriptions of the life and works of Thomas of Villanova, while impressive, may not have as dramatic a ring of heroic sanctity today as they did in his day. Bishops who lord it over the people, live lives of conspicuous consumption, and spend most of their time living and acting as princes are not the norm today, as they were in his lifetime. The ideal of bishops has come to be one that more closely resembles the life of Thomas of Villanova. The title, “Model of Bishops,” was well bestowed. The example he gave has borne fruit into our days. When we intercede for our bishops, we would do well to ask his intercession for them too.

Read More

Posted by on Sep 22, 2007

Canning, A Little “Communion of Saints”

Monday this past week was a “Canning Day” at our house. The pears were ripe enough to be sweet even without the addition of a light syrup. Canning days cannot be easily scheduled. They can be predicted, but everything must wait for the right degree of ripeness. I had bought the pears nearly a week earlier, on Tuesday, with the hopes that they would be ripe on Saturday. (Saturdays are easier for canning because I can lasso a helper. Weekdays she’s in school.) But they were still green. Sunday they were smelling like ripening pears, but when we tasted one that was beginning to mold, it still had a green tang, so we waited. I washed the jars and made sure I had honey for making the syrup, but that was as far as I could go. Monday they were ready and I set to work.

Canning pears is not difficult, but it is time consuming because the pears must be pealed and the core removed before they are put into the jars for processing. I only had one box of them, but it still took an afternoon of work to get them into the jars and processed and the jam made to complete the day’s work. But oh, the wonder of them in the middle of the winter, when I enjoy them as part of my breakfast or for a midnight snack! It’s worth every minute spent.

So how does this relate to the “Communion of Saints?” I was blessed to know not only all of my grandparents, but also one set of my great-grandparents. Great Grandad died when I was very young and I really don’t remember him except from a picture. But my Great Grandmother Heitstuman lived until after I graduated from college and was engaged. She lived in town and we saw her frequently. We called her Grandma, because I was the first great grandchild and she didn’t like to think she was old enough to be a great grandmother. She even gave us lemon drops when we remembered for a whole visit to call her “Grandma” rather than “Great Grandma.”

Grandma’s birthday was July 3 and she liked to celebrate it on the 4th. We’d gather at her house for a potluck of all the relatives living in town, including three families of my Mother’s cousins who were children my age. (We called my mother’s mother, Grammy. Grammy’s brothers and sister had children much later than she did.) While awaiting the expected fireworks coming after dark, we children would play in the yards and basements of the three family houses on Grandma’s block. In a corner, safely tucked away on neat shelves, there were the jars and jars of canned fruits, vegetables, jams, and jellies. Everyone had them. By the end of the growing season, the shelves were full of the bounty of summer and ready to take us all through the coming winter.

My grandmothers, my mother, my aunts, and many of our neighbors and friends preserved both fruits and vegetables. When I got married, I too began to preserve foods for my family, despite the fact that by the mid-70s fresh fruits and vegetables were available in the stores year round. The variety, textures and flavors of commercially prepared or preserved foods did not match those I had grown up loving. Continuing the tradition, my married son and his wife have joined in the art of canning and preserving foods for the coming seasons.

While none of us is likely ever to be named officially as saints, and certainly we all have our share of faults, our sharing in this activity of canning brings us together in a very special way. I always feel very close to the women who have gone before me as I prepare the raw ingredients and fill the shelves with jars of pickles, jams and canned fruits. I’m sure they are smiling at the sight with their own memories of the work and the pleasure of the enterprise.

The Communion of Saints is somewhat like this communion of canners of fruits. Not people we worship in any way, but more like older sisters and brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents. People who care about us, who are interested in what we do and how we do it, and who want to help us in whatever way they can to live our lives responsibly, do the good that God hopes we will accomplish, and have a little fun along the way. And, like an older brother or sister, if we need someone to put in a good word for us along the way, they’re happy to do that too!

Yes, Canning Days are special. They bring the reality of my little “communion of saints” into focus again in its relationship to the great Communion of Saints in which all of us share.

Read More

Posted by on Sep 4, 2007

World Mission Sunday

The Triumph of the Lowly – St. Thérèse of Lisieux and The Little Way

Not too long after Pope John Paul II named St. Thérèse of Lisieux a Doctor of the Church in 1997, I overheard someone commenting to one of her friends that a specialist in the spirituality of St. Teresa of Avila, was upset by his action. This specialist was very clear about the reasons that Teresa of Avila had received that honor, based on her years of spiritual growth, her reformation of the Carmelite order, and her writings. By contrast, Thérèse of Lisieux, in her short 24 years, had really not contributed anything of substance, certainly not enough to merit such a grand title as Doctor of the Church, a status shared by only 32 other people. Only two other women, Teresa of Avila (1515-1582) and Catherine of Siena (1347-1380) were Doctors of the Church. They had only received this recognition in 1970. (The New Catholic Encyclopedia, in 1967, ventured that women were unlikely to receive this honor because it is linked to the teaching office of the church,”which is limited to males.”)

Marie Françoise Thérèse Martin (1873-1897) became Sr. Thérèse of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face when she took her vows at the Carmelite convent in Lisieux in Normandy, France in 1888. I have been a fan of hers since I was in second grade. I read a children’s biography, Saint Thérèse and the Roses. It was really too hard for me to read easily, but I plowed my way through it and fell in love with her. I returned to the story many times as I grew up and continued to find her attractive. In fact, I chose her as my Confirmation patroness at age 13, long before she was so grand.

When Randy and I were newly-weds, we went to Guadalajara, Mexico to meet his cousins on his father’s side of the family. Randy’s aunt, Tía Dorotea, gave me a copy of Thérèse’s autobiography, The Story of a Soul, in Spanish. Thérèse was also Tía Dorotea’s favorite saint and I learned that in Mexico she is sometimes known as Santa Teresita (St. Little Teresa). I have thought of her as Teresita since that time.

However, I was in graduate school and then had young children and a business to operate with Randy, and I never found time to read my precious gift.

I’d like to say that I have now found and read it, but that would not be true. I know it is in our house somewhere, but like the beads for repairing my favorite moccasins, it is hiding in our resident Black Hole. I’m confident that it will someday escape and I plan to read it with a smile when it does, as I remember Tía Dorotea fondly.

So, I found myself wondering, what was it that made her as important in the life and history of the Church as Teresa of Avila and Catherine of Siena? I found the answer recently while shopping for a birthday gift at my favorite bookstore. On the shelf was a small book by Patrick Ahern, Auxiliary Bishop of New York, Maurice and Thérèse: The Story of a Love.

In this little book, Bishop Ahern offers a brief biography of Thérèse of Lisieux and an explanation of the general spiritual ambience of the late 19th Century. He then presents a series of letters written by Maurice Bellière to Thérèse of Lisieux and her responses. Maurice Bellière was a seminarian who had written to the Prioress of Carmel in Lisieux requesting that a Sister be chosen to pray especially for his vocation and with whom he could correspond. Thérèse’s sister Pauline was prioress at the time and she chose Thérèse to be the one who would respond to him.

Thérèse was passing through the last 18 months of her life, dying of tuberculosis. She was holding on by sheer force of will to her belief in God and her trust that her life of faith had not been that of a fool. It was a time of deep spiritual darkness for her, yet she offered sound advice, great encouragement and deep love to Maurice in her letters.

I couldn’t send the book to its new owner until I read it all myself! And through this book, I came to understand the great gift my Teresita gave to the Church, a path out of the darkness of Jansenism back into the light of trust in a loving God.

During the late 19th Century, an heretical approach to spirituality called Jansenism was still widely influential in popular spirituality, especially in France. The fundamental idea of Jansenism, which began in the mid-1600s, was that humans are not able to resisting any deep longing of the soul or any pleasure, whether towards good or evil. The only hope of salvation rested on God’s intervention in a person’s life, steering the person directly to choose the good. This understanding denied the existence and role of free will as a foundation of the relationship between God and humans. It was a system of predestination in which no one could have any certainty that he or she had been chosen (predestined) for salvation.

As a result, it tended to be a spirituality leading to uncompromising firmness or rigidity regarding beliefs and stern, strict religious practices. There was no role allowed for the heart or for feelings in worship. The infallibility of Church teachings was denied. Humans were seen as inherently bad and unworthy of God’s love or forgiveness. Frequent reception of Communion was discouraged because people are so unworthy to receive such a great gift.

Jansenism persisted for the next several centuries, especially in France. It was formally outlawed in 1712, but many Jansenist ideas and practices continued. St. Pius X, who had read Thérèse’s autobiography, was elected Pope in 1903. He tried to counter Jansenism by lowering the age for First Communion to 7 and by encouraging frequent Communion. Yet even into the mid-20th century when I was a girl, the remnants of Jansenism popped up in popular spirituality and even in the pulpit.

The “Little Way” of Thérèse of Lisieux, again opened the door to the Good News of Jesus, that God is a loving Father (a Parent) to us. While it is true that we are weak and we sin all too easily and frequently, God’s Love still reaches out to us and forgives.

The essence of the Little Way is the idea that most of us are not called to heroic degrees of self giving and sacrifice in our lives. Most of us are not called to leadership roles in the community. Few are called to celibacy. Even fewer are called to the heroic witness of martyrdom. But all of us are called to holiness (sainthood).

In her own words, “Love proves itself by deeds, so how am I to show my love? Great deeds are forbidden me. The only way I can prove my love is by scattering flowers and these flowers are every little sacrifice, every glance and word, and the doing of the least actions for love.”

Teresita understood, as did the great St. Teresa of Avila, that God is found even in the cooking pots of the kitchen — in the daily routines of cooking, cleaning, sewing, gardening and praying of her community.

Bishop Ahern notes that her greatest fear in facing death was that death might truly be the end of everything. That her life might go out like an extinguished candle and all have been in vain. Her second greatest fear was the death by suffocation that tuberculosis often causes. However, when the time came, she simply stopped breathing, with a smile of peaceful delight on her face, and moved into her new life, all fear and doubt obviously left behind her. Her final words were, “My God, I love you.”

John Paul II, in Divini Amoris Scientia (The Science of Divine Love), the decree that gave Marie Françoise Thérèse Martin the title, Doctor of the Church, noted that she gave us a foundation for spirituality that was innocent, open, hopeful, and trusting. Church authorities also noted that Thérèse was ahead of her time. Thérèse stressed the importance of reading Scripture and using it as a basis for prayer and meditation. She promoted the importance of studying the Scriptures in their original languages. These views would set theology and spirituality on a whole new course when they were advocated in 1943 by Pope Pius XII, in Divino Afflante Spiritu (Inspired by the Divine Spirit).

Thérèse Martin’s little book and her Little Way also influenced Pope John XXIII who convened the Second Vatican Council. Her autobiography influenced most of the movers and shakers of the early 20th Century in the Church and those insights shine through the Council documents and reforms.

Thank you, Bishop Ahern for your wonderful little book.

Read More

Posted by on Aug 23, 2007

Harden Not Your Heart

Many years ago I was teaching a 5th and 6th grade religious education class (otherwise known as CCD in Catholic circles). It was a lively group of children, many of whom were quite outspoken. We gathered weekly in a church hall after their regular school day. I always let them move around a bit, talk with each other and work on a cross stitch project while I was getting the space ready for our class. It helped them transition into the time we would spend together. It also helped them get to know each other, because they came from four or five different schools.

One particular day, a very lively, expressive girl, I’ll call her Marcie, decided that she didn’t like something I had said in greeting or in calling the group together. I don’t remember now what it was, but none of the other children thought anything of it.

When I called the children to gather in a circle for our opening prayer verse and song, Marcie joined the circle but faced away from the rest of us, towards the outside, saying she wasn’t going to be part of the group because she didn’t like what I had said.

It’s not often that a teacher gets such a perfect example handed her on a platter, so I shamelessly moved ahead and used it! We were, after all, studying the sacraments, including Reconciliation, that year. I asked the other children to look at Marcie and notice what she was doing. She had chosen not to be part of the group and had turned away from us. We had not turned from her. None of us had rejected her in any way. It was her choice to turn away and would be her choice to turn back to join the group. That is the way it is between us and God. God never turns away from us. We may choose to turn from God — and we are the ones who can choose to turn back at any time. God will never force us to act in either direction. It’s entirely up to each of us.

And what did Marcie do while I was speaking? Before I finished the first sentence, she had turned back to the group and was apologizing to all of them for giving me the chance to make a “religion” lesson out of what she had done. They were quick to make her feel at ease again.

I remembered Marcie and that day today as we prayed the Psalm at Mass. “If today you hear God’s voice, harden not your heart.” (Ps 95:7-8) God’s voice calls us. I hope we can respond as quickly as Marcie and the other children did to join the circle listening to His voice.

Read More