Christmas with My Friend Helen

Today, I went to see my friend Helen who is 99 years old. For twenty-two years Helen and I have shared a warm friendship which I treasure dearly. But today when I greeted Helen, she was initially a little foggy about who I was. After about five minutes, which seemed much, much longer to me, she smiled from ear to ear and, with tears, said that yes she did remember who I was, and she was delighted that I came to visit. Helen then asked about the Church where we first met, the priest we both knew, and how my two sons were doing. We spent an hour together reminiscing when she asked how my mother was doing. Well, I really hated bringing up sad news about death with a 99 year old, but I told her the truth that my mother died just recently, suddenly in her sleep and she was not even sick. I told her how hard it was to lose my mother so suddenly when she was only 78, and I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. Helen held my hand so tightly and we were both in tears ,and she said, “Don’t worry, you’re mother's last thought before she died was about the daughter she truly loved. Love was on her mind at that final hour”. I've got to say that this was the most comforting thing anyone said to me since my mother died. And this from such a wonderful woman who never had any children of her own. Could God have given me a more special Christmas present? I think not. Merry Christmas, my good friend. Merry Christmas.

Catholicism and Homosexuality - What God Knows?

Who knows what God knows? I sit in a pew within a Church that time and time again thinks it knows what God knows. For instance, this Church called on its people in my Diocese this past weekend, on the feast of Christ the King, to contact their appropriate legislators, and encourage them to vote against civil unions of same sex couples, and guard the sanctity of marriage. Sanctity, of course, also means holiness, blessedness, sacredness and purity. I feel sorry for this Church, who after two thousand years of serious, punitive mistakes and blunders continues to preach a gospel of exclusion in antithesis to what Jesus preached. It continues to mix religion with politics despite Jesus clearly emphasizing to render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s. This is what I think. God is pure love. God is neither male nor female. God desires that we love one another as we love ourselves. If two human beings, regardless of gender, are totally devoted to one another in pure, unadulterated love, does not that act, in and of itself, encompass sanctity, holiness, blessedness, and sacredness? What if, say in ten or twenty years from now, we definitively find out that human beings are born, due to whatever genetic explanation is given, innately with specific sexual orientation. What then? Again, do we so blasphemously presume to know all that God knows at any given time in humanity that we can remove certain segments of the human population from having sanctified relationships? I am Catholic. I am someone who would not even consider abortion. I am heterosexual. I have a sanctified marriage. I have children. But I am not a Pharisee. I am not about thanking God with a “but for the grace of God go I” ethic. I believe in a God and a faith that welcomes all to the table. A few years ago at a catechists’ convocation a Jesuit priest by the name of Nathan Mitchell said that Jesus welcomed everyone to the table; he dined with everyone; and because of this he was crucified. How does the Church keep getting the lesson so wrong?

Time to Give Thanks For . . .

• Sabbath Time
• Family Time
• Friend Time
• Pet Time
• Home Time
• Food Time
• Work Time
• Leisure Time
• Nature Time
• Rest Time

Falling Down Days

Okay, so retirement got off to a pretty rough start. See past blog entries for details. So today, to ward off the creeping in of grief and depression, I decided to really do a super duper vacuuming job and I ended up falling down the steps wrestling 26 feet of vacuum cleaner hose - so much for a central vacuum. Well, I landed hard in the front foyer and as far as I can tell nothing is broken but I am really sore and achy. At the moment I landed I decided to just sit there on the floor and have a really super crying jag. It was great! There I was on retirement throwing the best pity party of all time! The company was outstanding and it was followed up by the best laughing jag of all time. All I could think about was what I would look like to a peeping Tom. Pretty funny stuff. This moment in time provided a well-needed cathartic release and, believe it or not, I am grateful for falling down days. As a reminder to appreciate the ordinary, Theologian Frederick Buechner in his book, Secrets in the Dark: A Life in Sermons writes: "All the absurd little meetings, decisions, inner skirmishes that go to make up all our days. It all adds up to very little, and yet it all adds up to very much. Our days are full of nonsense, and yet not, because it is precisely into the nonsense of our days that God speaks to us the words of great significance - not words written in the stars but words written into the raw stuff and nonsense of our days, which are not nonsense just because God speaks into the midst of them. And the words that he says, to each of us differently, are 'Be brave . . . be merciful . . . feed my lambs . . . press on toward the goal.' " And so I press on toward the process of retirement.

When Holy Orders Becomes Holy Disorders

Being a cradle Catholic and schooled for twelve years within the parochial system, I have certain expectations of those who receive the sacrament of Holy Orders. I expect that priests will guide me in my faith formation through preaching the living word of God, and through the power of Consecration, they will offer me the living Christ in the Eucharist. I daresay that the sacrament of Holy Orders comes with an awesome responsibility. It is a responsibility that places priests in unique personal relationships with the human beings they encounter. Imagine when those unique relationships are broken so tragically through abuse. Abuses by priests can take many forms – sexual, financial, and verbal. As a parishioner who wrote a letter to her Bishop asking for help and protection, the very priest that verbally abused me has vilified me publicly. In my case, I reported a priest who took the Lord’s name in vain, used foul and suggestive language in reference to teachers, parents, and children, and used obscene hand gestures at a meeting with four parish females. As this priest was new to the parish, I also questioned his lavish spending of parish funds. How stupid of me to expect protection from the Diocese! I received a very polite letter; but no apologies for what I experienced. The letter simply stated that my letter was reviewed with the parish priest and that he will be more mindful of his behavior. Additionally I was informed that all his spending is in line with approval by the parish finance council. Interestingly, I am on that financial council and I did not approve any of this spending. Then to make matters worse, this abusive priest makes severe, disparaging remarks about me at a Parish Council meeting. To other parishioners, he referred to me as a “dumb asshole” and was quoted as saying he would “like to take a hit out on” me. This is all so overwhelming and I am so heartsick over this. Never in my life have I experienced anything so vile, and to experience this through a priest within the Church which I love and hold dearly. Right now I am facing the darkest hour in my life as a Roman Catholic. Where does a good Catholic go for healing? How can a Diocese protect such an abusive individual? How does a Roman Catholic priest threaten the life of someone he should be shepherding? Where do I go from here? It is so obvious that this priest is in need of psychiatric help. I believe the Diocese sees this as well but does nothing because this abuse falls out of the realm of sexual abuse. Where is the sacred trust within our Church? Heaven help us all from the rampant abuse by those who received the sacrament of Holy “Disorders”.

Beyond all reason

The late Dag Hammarskjold wrote: "God does not die on the day we cease to believe in a personal deity, but we die on the day when our lives cease to be illuminated by the steady radiance, renewed daily, of a wonder, the source of which is beyond all reason".
For people of faith, this wonder sustains them even in the darkest hours of life. There is always the longing and the nagging suspicion that we were made for something greater, by someone greater, and we are restless in our search to stay illuminated, to stay focused, and to remain a steady reflection of that holy radiance. We do this in spite of what the world throws our way. We do this despite the meanness and narrowness often demonstrated by mankind. We do this because love always keeps away the darkness, always. We do this no matter how badly God may be interpreted by those who would do evil in His name. We do this because we are wonder-filled.

Autumn Days

Autumn has always been my favorite season. Even managing my way through grief I can feel a renewed sense of hope by the cold crisp mornings and the smell of leaves as day settles into dusky evening. There was a crescent moon the other night shining brightly through the forest around my home. It's nature's way of saying things will be all right and life goes on in the usual, ordinary ways that are really quite remarkable if you only take notice. I received a lovely poem in the e-mail the other day that I place here for all daughters who grieve the loss of a mom.

For My Daughter by David Ignatow

When I die choose a star

and name it after me

that you may know

I have not abandoned

or forgotten you.

You were such a star to me,

following you through birth

and childhood, my hand

in your hand.

When I die

choose a star and name it

after me so that I may shine

down on you, until you join

me in darkness and silence

together.

Take Comfort

On the day my mom died I received the following e-mail message from gratefulness.org :

Even if happiness forgets you a little bit, never completely forget about it.
( Jacques Prévert).

This quote brought me great comfort at a time of great sadness. As it turns out, my mom's funeral was held on my birthday and it was all just overwhelming. Those of you who have suffered loss know that words can never describe the roller coaster of emotions that can occur. This morning I checked my e-mails after having been away for a few days and the outpouring of condolences was just so amazing. I know there are a lot of pros and cons about e-mail protocol and etiquette but whether a note comes by old -fashioned snail mail or e-mail the love and concern comes shining through. So I leave this post today with the following message sent on my birthday, again, from gratefulness.org. I am placing the quote here just as I received it. God bless the people and staff at this web site for bringing light to those of us who so desperately need it.

www.gratefulness.org
WORD FOR THE DAY
Monday, Sep. 3

Today my prayer consisted in simply going to my heart and re-membering all the folks I've stored there. It is not cold storage. It is a quite warm and tender place.

Sr. Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB
A Tree Full of Angels

Remember me, Mom.

When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.
For as long as you remember me. I am never entirely lost. When I'm feeling most ghost-like, it's your remembering me that helps remind me that I actually exist. When I'm feeling sad, it's my consolation. When I'm feeling happy, it's part of why I feel that way.
If you forget me, one of the ways I remember who I am will be gone. If you forget me, part of who I am will be gone.
"Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom," the good thief said from his cross (Luke 23:42). There are perhaps no more human words in all of the Scripture, no prayer we can pray so well. (Frederick Buechner from Whispering in the Dark)

My mom, Genevieve Carpenter, passed away yesterday, quietly and peacefully and I will miss her terribly but I will always remember.

School Days and Empty Nests

For the first time in forty-nine years I will not be going to school this September. I always loved the idea of school and I was always fine once I arrived, but for forty-nine years I pretty much had a stomach ache every morning, and for the life of me I never knew why. People ask me if I'll miss going in everyday but I really don't think I will. Of course, I do miss the idea of not being with the kids - they were always my raison d'etre. But for the most part I am glad to be free of schedules and to be available to my family in any way they may need me. As September approaches I look forward to being involved in life in new ways - wherever life's twists and turns will take me.

And for all those parents who drop off their last (or only) of their children at college, my heart and prayers go out to you. For me that moment of driving away from our youngest after leaving him off at college was the most heart-wrenching event. My husband and I felt like two goobers sobbing in the parking lot of the university. The sadness of it all was overwhelming, and our poor son just didn't get why we were so emotional. But for those of you who've been through this, and are going through this, you know exactly what I mean. Does it get better? Overtime it definitely gets easier but the empty nest really feels lousy for a while. In time your relationship with this child changes in a good way, and you can once again relive the fun childhood memories without tears. In the meantime, cry all you want after the drop-off and when you get home .Cry it all out and try to avoid too much contact for the first thirty days. My son is a senior now and I only cry after he pulls out of the driveway to head back off to school. I don't know but I think tears are good once in a while. We cry because we love them so much and they have brought such great joy to our lives and that's a good thing. My husband and I are now at the point where we can enjoy all our children (four) for the wonderful adults they have become. Life is good.

Now for a quote from C.S. Lewis - " To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all dangers and perturbations of love is Hell".

Spiritual Malaise

Ever wonder why some people's faith is so strong that it never waivers no matter what? I wish that I could have that same kind of faith. Sometimes it is just so hard not to lose hope that things within the American Catholic church will change. How can we as lay people continue to be so powerless in the face of such blatant disregard by the hierarchy of the American Catholic church to the needs of its people. The recent sex abuse scandal is only the tip of the iceberg in my opinion. I believe that the cardinals and bishops continue to play the good "ole" boys game but in new and more clandestine ways. Somehow American Catholics have to unite and take back our Church. No more can the hierarchy rest their laurels on the pray, pay and obey nomenclature of the past. We need to upend this unholy hierarchy by hurting them where it matters most - in their pocketbooks. It seems to me, especially in my Diocese, that the Bishop is more concerned about saving money then saving souls. All his decisions regarding parochial school closings and merges, Church closings and merges, laying off of teachers, and mandated retirements of priests, are based on financial advice of a company he hired to help him accumulate more money. What about accumulating more souls? I want so desperately to find those good Catholic priests and bishops that I know are out there and join with them and restore our Church back to being what Jesus called it to be. I wonder if we can even muster up enough interest in the people anymore. So many are just apathetic to how affairs of the Church are conducted. So many have become savvy consumers of Catholicism - shopping for the Church that temporarily meets their family and work schedules. Their Church has become a place where they can drive by and pick up a sacramental rite now and then thus allowing them to keep up the appearances of remaining within the Catholic subculture. There is also the consumer savvy hierarchy (Bishops and Cardinals) who take full advantage of this apathy - hence their power and control over all the finances (money that continues to come from the people they so carelessly shepherd). The state of the American Catholic Church is in a bad way. What does one do when no solace can be found in one's home parish? My parish has been recently reduced to a foul display of Machiavelli tactics by parishioners trying to vie for key positions with the newly appointed pastor who seems more interested in refurbishing the rectory than attending to the spiritual needs of the parish. Friends tell me to just abandon ship and go seek out another parish that is spiritually healthy. Somehow that just seems too easy. What about the home parish I leave behind?

While I was away . . .

Vacations are such a treat especially when you get to see your new grandson baptized along the ocean at sunset. As I gathered with several generations to welcome this new little one into the life of God and the Church I experienced God's presence all around me - heaven's touch in the wind against our faces, heaven's music in the crashing waves, heaven's scent in the mustiness of sand and shells, heaven's taste in the saltiness of the beach mist, and heaven's visual promise in the faces of parents, godparents, big sister, and baby. Yes, this was definitely one of those "in the moment" epiphanies for me. I used to tell my students in catechism class that these are what we call "aha" moments - when we truly experience the wonder and awe of God's presence. Emily Dickinson certainly describes this moment better than I:

"Eden is that old-fashioned house

We dwell in every day

Without suspecting our abode

Until we drive away."

from The Single Hound

Away on break

Be back August 13th.

Patience

There is a great website at www.gratefulness.org which allows you to sign up for a daily email message. Many wonderful thought provoking quotes are sent and one I received on July 30th went like this:

Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word happy would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness. It is far better to take things as they come along with patience and equanimity.

Carl Jung

Right now my parish is indeed going through a measure of darkness as we adjust to a new pastor. Last night the new pastor met with four of our twelve parish's catechetical teachers, me being one of them. The other eight were smart not to attend. As a child with one foot in pre-Vatican II and another in post-Vatican II, I was raised to respect priests and revere them as men following a higher calling. Even though I know that each priest is first a man, and therefore susceptible to the same human foibles as the rest of us, I was amazed at how much disrespect this particular priest felt he could place on the laity, especially females, which all four catechists were last evening. It seemed as though he was not listening to our concerns and questioned us and the past practices under our former pastor as if we were all doing things terribly wrong. His manner was abrupt, his thinking was disorganized, and his criticisms were personal and hurtful. So, what do I do? It was my intention to go last night as support for the woman who will be the new Director of Religious Education. I also told this new pastor that it was not my intention to teach this school year as I was in transition from full time employment to retirement in order to refocus my life on family and avocational interests. He told me I might as well go stand in the road and let myself get run over by a car as retiring so young is suicidal anyway. This from a priest!!! Am I just not getting his style of interaction? Did he want to ask me to stay on as a catechist but go about it in a completely discourteous way? I am feeling very confused right now and entering into a measure of darkness. I pray for patience and insight to follow what God wants me to do.

Wednesday's Child

“All will be well, and every kind of thing will be well.” – Julian of Norwich

Every time I hear the song lyrics to Arthur's Theme by Christopher Cross I remember how good it feels to just fall in love - with people, with places, with nature, with animals . . . and I am struck that these powerful feelings of love at any given moment in time make me ponder over the wonder and awe of God's presence in my life. I certainly take His presence for granted. If only I could not keep missing these moments of wonder and awe. If I pay closer attention then maybe I can believe that "all will be well, and every kind of thing will be well." So let me substitute my own words in these lyrics:

Once in your life you find Him
Someone that turns your heart around
And next thing you know you're closing down the town
Wake up and it's still with you
Even though you left Him way across town
Wondering to yourself, "Hey, what've I found?"

When you get caught between the Moon and New York City
I know it's crazy, but it's true
If you get caught between the Moon and New York City
The best that you can do ......
The best that you can do is fall in love

Let me fall in love over and over again.

Wednesday's Child

Transition

Transition can be difficult especially when it comes uninvited. One might even feel helpless or abandoned in the face of an unwelcome transition. This is what I was feeling when over the weekend someone quoted a prayer from St. Francis de Sales:

"Do not look forward in fear to the changes of life;
Rather look to them with full hope that as they arise, God, whose very own you are, will lead you safely through all things;
And when you cannot stand it, God will carry you in His arms.
Do not fear what may happen tomorrow;
The same everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you today and everyday.
He will either shield you from suffering or will give you unfailing strength to bear it.
Be at peace and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations."

This month I experienced the loss of a beloved pastor due to a mandatory retirement clause cited in Canon Law. Not being a theologian, I am not sure I totally understand the wisdom of removing a pastor, a founding pastor who has been here for 31 years, and forcing a vibrant individual into retirement. The year long process of watching him prepare to leave has been agonizing. Through it all, this pastor remained positive and committed to his vow of obedience to his bishop. I'm afraid I was not as committed to trying to understand the rationale behind such a move and I felt truly abandoned by the hierarchy of the Catholic church once again. I was thinking of myself and was not relying on all the great things this pastor had taught me over the years in his homilies and through faith sharing. I was committed to abandoning the ship he was leaving behind and I was certainly not going to allow myself to like the new guy.

Now about this new guy. I understand it is not his fault that the Diocese assigned him to replace my beloved pastor. And to be honest, I looked upon him as a car wreck looking for some place to happen. He was the complete opposite of the priest I had known as pastor during the past twenty-two years that I was parishioner. But what is it that compels me not to give up? What is it that makes me go to Church everyday and try to get accustomed to this new guy? Right now, I have no answers. I cry a lot. My heart aches a lot. Change is so very very difficult . But this Sunday at Mass, the new guy began his homily with . . .

"Do not look forward in fear to the changes of life;
Rather look to them with full hope that as they arise, God, whose very own you are, will lead you safely through all things;
And when you cannot stand it, God will carry you in His arms.
Do not fear what may happen tomorrow;
The same everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you today and everyday.
He will either shield you from suffering or will give you unfailing strength to bear it.
Be at peace and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations."

Thanks new guy.

Wednesday's Child