Just an FYI for all of you...Tiber Jumper and his wife are the guests on The Journey Home.
Keep them in your prayers, and if you're reading this....stop reading and go turn on EWTN!
Monday, December 10, 2007
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Distraction
This morning I was, as usual, distracted during Mass. I am constantly apologizing to God for this imperfection. Yet some of my distraction did indeed stem from the readings and the homily.
I am desperately in need of a good Confession. Yesterday I considered going, but chose not to; I want to make a really good examination of conscience, I want to rid myself of all sorts of stuff. Basically what this means is that I just refused an opportunity for God's mercy.
But there's a reason; because I've found the need to really consider my purpose of amendment. Is it firm? Am I REALLY sorry for my sins? Do I REALLY intend to avoid the occasion of sin? Really? Or has it become rote?
Certainly I've experienced the incredible grace of this sacrament and have done so recently enough, but I sense a need to be more serious, to dig deeper, and to not take God's mercy for granted. Oh, yes...I have presumed upon God's mercy, and now I wonder....have my confessions been valid?
None of you can answer this, so don't even try. This is something between me n' God, and if I have made invalid confessions, well...that is an issue that requires a remedy.
These were my thoughts during Mass today. I was convicted. I need God's mercy, and yet I am back to being terrified to approach. Some of this stems from the paper I'm writing on God's mercy in the Old Testament. To say the least, the topic has opened my eyes. Even so, I know that there is more to the story in the New Testament, but it's not something I am able to address this semester. Suffice to say I desperately needed to be re-introduced to the proper fear of God. And I also recognize that it is through His mercy that I have come to this point; I cannot address my sin unless I am willing to face the fact that my contritions are largely imperfect. And maybe invalid.
That question has to be faced, by each and every one of us. And this is exactly the season for such questions and such revelation.
These were my thoughts during Mass, and during the Consecration, although I remembered particular intentions (especially my Mother), my most frequent prayer was, "Lord have mercy on me, a sinner." Because that's the most fundamentally important prayer one can utter, and so I repeated it with every fiber.
I debated about going to communion; should I go? Should I abstain? In the end, I went, begging for the grace of self-knowledge, begging for mercy, receiving Jesus out of desperation because I don't know what to do without His guidance. And if I have brought condemnation upon myself, it is condemnation I have already earned and which I want to reconcile, if I could only definitively recognize it. I shouldn't have gone.
Or is this just scrupulosity?
I've had great difficulty in prayer lately, and today was similar, but different. Somehow, I did fall into a particular meditation, one that surprised me. I won't call it a "vision" or any such pretentious thing, for it was not that. Instead, I experienced a sense of the closeness of Jesus, His infinite mercy, and his enduring love. I "sensed" Jesus placing His hands on either side of my face and drawing me to him; I could feel the ragged wounds in his hands - and I was the one who placed them there. I am forever nailing holes in his hands and feet. And all he offers me in return is his perfect love.
It was a struggle to maintain my composure, so my meditation "ended" with a desperate prayer to make me stop crying. Yet the tears fell. Somehow, I got them to stop, but the memory of Jesus' hands did not leave me. It was a powerful image.
When I left Mass, I was fine. I was in control of myself. My pressing questions regarded my paper, and so I approached the priest who had presided today as he has often been helpful with various things. This particular priest is like a brother; he is a joker and never fails to get a jab into the mix. Guaranteed, we can fly at each other with the zingers, but it's all in good fun as the respect is forever present. He was a reference both for grad school and my current job, and let me just say...he's an incredible priest. We are blessed to have him among us.
So after Mass I approached him and my intention was just to ask him a fairly simple question and be on my way. Instead, I found myself telling him about my Mom; he didn't know she was in the hospital. So I gave him a quick summary and told him that she now thinks that she "wrecked Christmas." As we conversed, I burst out, "How can she wreck Christmas? A week ago I didn't even think I was going to HAVE a Mom anymore! We have all we need for Christmas!" And of course, I was crying by then.
Mind you, I HATE crying in public. Sure, it happens sometimes in Adoration or during Mass, but typically before I have to talk to anyone, the emotions are under control. Not today. I coudldn't stop the tears, and of course I was embarassed. But God bless him, Father didn't even bat an eye. He just continued in his conversation with me as though it wasn't happening. Although he did soften his tone; normally he's prone to interjecting humor, but not this time; he was all business. And I'm so thankful for that!
I HATE it when people become complete solicitous in the face of emotion, especially tears. It's not helpful. An even tone and continued conversation is the best remedy. Especially for those of us not prone to being emotional in public. It's one thing to emote all over a blog post; it's a completely different thing in person.
But just the same, I think I needed that today. I needed the lesson in humility in that I have no control, I needed to speak what has been haunting me, and I needed to speak it, in person, to someone I can trust and who could respond appropriately. And so I'm grateful for this unexpected gift.
Indeed, I need to make a good Confession, but first I have to get out of the way, and I have to sort out the stuff that's outside of me over which I have no control. And I have to be open to God's mercy, because it's all around me, He's inviting me, and the only barrier between myself and God is my own stubborn heart.
I am desperately in need of a good Confession. Yesterday I considered going, but chose not to; I want to make a really good examination of conscience, I want to rid myself of all sorts of stuff. Basically what this means is that I just refused an opportunity for God's mercy.
But there's a reason; because I've found the need to really consider my purpose of amendment. Is it firm? Am I REALLY sorry for my sins? Do I REALLY intend to avoid the occasion of sin? Really? Or has it become rote?
Certainly I've experienced the incredible grace of this sacrament and have done so recently enough, but I sense a need to be more serious, to dig deeper, and to not take God's mercy for granted. Oh, yes...I have presumed upon God's mercy, and now I wonder....have my confessions been valid?
None of you can answer this, so don't even try. This is something between me n' God, and if I have made invalid confessions, well...that is an issue that requires a remedy.
These were my thoughts during Mass today. I was convicted. I need God's mercy, and yet I am back to being terrified to approach. Some of this stems from the paper I'm writing on God's mercy in the Old Testament. To say the least, the topic has opened my eyes. Even so, I know that there is more to the story in the New Testament, but it's not something I am able to address this semester. Suffice to say I desperately needed to be re-introduced to the proper fear of God. And I also recognize that it is through His mercy that I have come to this point; I cannot address my sin unless I am willing to face the fact that my contritions are largely imperfect. And maybe invalid.
That question has to be faced, by each and every one of us. And this is exactly the season for such questions and such revelation.
These were my thoughts during Mass, and during the Consecration, although I remembered particular intentions (especially my Mother), my most frequent prayer was, "Lord have mercy on me, a sinner." Because that's the most fundamentally important prayer one can utter, and so I repeated it with every fiber.
I debated about going to communion; should I go? Should I abstain? In the end, I went, begging for the grace of self-knowledge, begging for mercy, receiving Jesus out of desperation because I don't know what to do without His guidance. And if I have brought condemnation upon myself, it is condemnation I have already earned and which I want to reconcile, if I could only definitively recognize it. I shouldn't have gone.
Or is this just scrupulosity?
I've had great difficulty in prayer lately, and today was similar, but different. Somehow, I did fall into a particular meditation, one that surprised me. I won't call it a "vision" or any such pretentious thing, for it was not that. Instead, I experienced a sense of the closeness of Jesus, His infinite mercy, and his enduring love. I "sensed" Jesus placing His hands on either side of my face and drawing me to him; I could feel the ragged wounds in his hands - and I was the one who placed them there. I am forever nailing holes in his hands and feet. And all he offers me in return is his perfect love.
It was a struggle to maintain my composure, so my meditation "ended" with a desperate prayer to make me stop crying. Yet the tears fell. Somehow, I got them to stop, but the memory of Jesus' hands did not leave me. It was a powerful image.
When I left Mass, I was fine. I was in control of myself. My pressing questions regarded my paper, and so I approached the priest who had presided today as he has often been helpful with various things. This particular priest is like a brother; he is a joker and never fails to get a jab into the mix. Guaranteed, we can fly at each other with the zingers, but it's all in good fun as the respect is forever present. He was a reference both for grad school and my current job, and let me just say...he's an incredible priest. We are blessed to have him among us.
So after Mass I approached him and my intention was just to ask him a fairly simple question and be on my way. Instead, I found myself telling him about my Mom; he didn't know she was in the hospital. So I gave him a quick summary and told him that she now thinks that she "wrecked Christmas." As we conversed, I burst out, "How can she wreck Christmas? A week ago I didn't even think I was going to HAVE a Mom anymore! We have all we need for Christmas!" And of course, I was crying by then.
Mind you, I HATE crying in public. Sure, it happens sometimes in Adoration or during Mass, but typically before I have to talk to anyone, the emotions are under control. Not today. I coudldn't stop the tears, and of course I was embarassed. But God bless him, Father didn't even bat an eye. He just continued in his conversation with me as though it wasn't happening. Although he did soften his tone; normally he's prone to interjecting humor, but not this time; he was all business. And I'm so thankful for that!
I HATE it when people become complete solicitous in the face of emotion, especially tears. It's not helpful. An even tone and continued conversation is the best remedy. Especially for those of us not prone to being emotional in public. It's one thing to emote all over a blog post; it's a completely different thing in person.
But just the same, I think I needed that today. I needed the lesson in humility in that I have no control, I needed to speak what has been haunting me, and I needed to speak it, in person, to someone I can trust and who could respond appropriately. And so I'm grateful for this unexpected gift.
Indeed, I need to make a good Confession, but first I have to get out of the way, and I have to sort out the stuff that's outside of me over which I have no control. And I have to be open to God's mercy, because it's all around me, He's inviting me, and the only barrier between myself and God is my own stubborn heart.
Saturday, December 08, 2007
The Magic Flute
In fifth grade, I told Mom I wanted to play flute. Not trumpet. Not sax. I wanted to play the flute. And even though we were on welfare and had no hope of doing any such thing...Mom found a way to get me a flute. And it's a good one, a Gemeinhardt, that cost her $450.00 which she paid in installments.
And so I practiced, and at first it was boring, but then I fell in love with performance. Because it wasn't ME that made the sound...it was the flute. I was just a medium who transmitted the sound. So even in my shyness, on stage when playing, I could still take a back seat to the instrument that filled the void.
Concerts were easy, because I'd been in many, every year at school, and band concerts were no different. In sixth grade, I was allowed to play "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" for our Christmas Eve program at Church. They had called for "young instrumentalists" and so it was that I found myself at an audition. The music director asked me to play something from school. As this was in the years before the rabid secularization of our public schools, we were playing authentic Christmas music, and so there was no need for me to learn something different. And they determined my audition as a 6th grader was sufficient, thus I was welcomed to the Christmas program as a soloist. It was a great honor, for most of the instrumentalists were placed in a group.
On that night, I was excited and confident as I sat with my family, and on cue I walked up to collect my flute from the organ console. My music was in place so I turned to face the "audience"...and realized the church was FULL. In fact, it was OVERFLOWING. Wow. I started shaking.
The pianist began to play, and I could see from her expression that she saw my sudden attack of stagefright, which became realized when not even a squeak debuted from the silver in my hands. I tried to take a deep breath. The director looked at me, concerned.
I was in front of everyone, mostly people I didn't know. I didn't want to disappoint anyone...most of all, myself. I HAD to play. I had to play for Jesus. This was my gift to Him.
The director whispered, "Are you ready?"
I nodded, the piano began, and this time, there was sound, albeit very faint. But I bravely forged onward, determined. I was shaking, and feared my poor flute would rattle from my cold hands and clash onto the tile steps under my feet.
But I played, and the vibrato was never so... um...consistent...as on that night. Then I sat down to thunderous applause and hung my head, thoroughly embarassed. My performance was dismal. They were applauding the fact I didn't faint and knock the microphone over. I was certain I would not be asked back. I was certain that if I WAS invited back, I would decline.
But I was called the following year, and even prior to that, for they'd seen it before and they'd been there before; stage fright happens to everyone. It's all a part of learning and stepping out to offer of ourselves. Sometimes that precipice seems larger than life.
I kept on with my music, and over time, I became more involved with my church, playing more or less regularly. I aspired to be the main flautist at the church; I wanted eventually to be a professional. The dreams were as grand as my abilities were humble. But my mother could not afford lessons, so I just practiced hard and did my best. And eventually, some generous souls payed for lessons for me. It wasn't often, but only here and there. Then Mom began to give me money for more regular lessons, so through high school, I was able to obtain private insruction weekly and monthly, which greatly enforced my practice, and held me accountable when I failed to live up to goals. And believe you me...my teacher could tell when I hadn't been practicing sufficiently. There was no need to turn in a record; it was obvious. She also taught me wonderful techniques to assist me in learning especially difficult passages.
And my teacher? None other than the church's main flautist who had played piano for me when I made my debut there. She herself had become the music director there; and I her student. When she was elevated to director, I took her place as flautist.
I still remember our sessions in her dining room, the metronome on top of the piano tapping away. I remember the red oriental-patterned rug, the darkness outside, the cold metal warming in my hands. She stood next to me in the cool of the winter evening, giving me music for an upcoming Mass, assisting me with scores for competetions, providing me with challenges and taking away music that was beyond my ability. There was a time for everything. I had to trust her to tell me when I was ready for the next level. Each lesson was a gift; I could never have hoped for private instruction. And I learned later on that most of our lessons were, for the teacher, pro bono.
Although the hours of practice were difficult, I still remember those times with great nostalgia; I remember starting a piece and quitting for the night, completely convinced I would never be able to play it sufficiently, only to take that same piece to competetion months later, and impress the judge with my ability to navigate notes most high school students feared to brave. I did not play it perfectly, but rather intuitively. So it was that my technical ability always suffered; I always did well with my prepared music but sight-reading was forever a challenge. I believe this ties in to my complete inability to understand math. As music is very mathematical, it stands to reason that sight-reading would be beyond my immediate comprehension.
My teachers all encouraged me on to greater things; I could be very successful as a musician, they said. I should study music. And in fact, I was a semi-finalist for a music scholarship at Concordia...and had to drop out of the running the day before my audition due to circumstances beyond my control. So close....
I played in college, but by then, I was no longer tied to a parish for most of my time was spent at college, and working. I wasn't attending Mass anymore...unless I had to go with Mom. And some weekends, I was working every shift I could so I missed Mass, and then returned to school, 2 hours away, immmediately after work, only to return to work again a few weeks later when I made it "home". The church wasn't "home" anymore. That meant that when I did perform, it was for school or in th orchestra pit in the theatre. These events were wonderful, but they weren't Mass. It wasn't the same.
I was without roots. I was without an anchor. I was without God in my life.
In 1994 I went to Mexico for a semester, and upon my return I did not enroll in Concert band...I didn't have the time in my academic and work schedule. And so I never returned to music. I was not challenged. And I had no venue to offer my music, and so it fell by the wayside.
(As an aside...IC...is J.H. still the director of the Concert Band there?)
And I never picked it up again. I see now that when I stopped offering my music to God, it stopped being meaningful. I used to think it was all about performance, but now I realize it was all about the offering, even from the most abject imperfection. My gift to God was all I had to offer, and He increased the gift according to what was needed, and according to what He needed to do to bring me into the perimeter to recieve His Saving Grace.
Once I left God...I also left my flute. For music makes no sense if it is not offered for His glory.
Tonight I picked up my flute and played a few notes. Rusty...but not without hope. I can't remember how to play, or how to read notes, but with some instruction, the miniscule muscules in my fingers can remember the patterns. With practice, the sound will be pure and true again, like water. I always thought the flute sounded like water, and I was amazed when that resonating sound emanated from this piece of silver with what seemed like little effort.
What used to be so simple is now decrepit from unuse, like a dry creek slogging over stones and through gravel.
What used to be so beautiful when offered for God's glory...is just a fond memory from which I must wipe the tarnish and the cobwebs that muffle the sound.
My flute is old, and in fact, a sticker from my audition at Gustavous Adolphus still graces the case. The silver is tarnished, and the cork is old. The pads are worn, and I fear the metal will never shine so brightly as it did so long ago when I first offered my hesitant and shaking notes to the infant Jesus.
If only I could offer those notes again...if only I could wipe the tarnish away, take this instrument up again, and play. I want to be immersed in the water of sound that is the notes cascading from the silver lightly balanced in my hands. I want to be lost in the melodic interludes, sacred arias, and traditional harmonies that transcend time and space. I want to take a back seat to the instrument that cries out to the very Glory of God, and in the next movement mourns in tones only music can convey. I want to pick up my flute and play with complete abandon and be transported through this offering.
If only a bit of polish was all it took...if only it was a matter of a little practice, I could pick up my flute and play again. And this time, I would never stop...
Christmas Meme
Because I'm fried I need some mindless activity. Memes are perfect because I don't have to consult any notes or books or theological references in order to come up with the answers. I got this one from Angela Messenger. :-)
1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Both. I like to wrap gifts in things that don't betray what they are. Sometimes that's impossible so I am forced to use a gift bag. Or it's just more convenient. Although last year I used some things from around the house to hide the shape of the actual gift, which was already oddly shaped but the packaging would have given it away. So I was deceptive in my wrapping and fully mystified my brother. We have a Christmas tradition of wrapping things oddly.
2. Real tree or artificial? Artificial. I had a real tree only twice in my life...my first Christmas in my own apartment (and then I found out we weren't supposed to have them and I wasn't able to sneak it out until March!) And I was given a real tree my first year in my townhome. It's a pain in the butt and my dog kept drinking the water and eating the branches. And I'm still finding needles. Now I have a little 10" artificial tree and I love it!
3. When do you put up the tree? I put mine up Thanksgiving weekend because I had time. It has lights but no decoration...I'll decorate it closer to Christmas, likely the last Sunday of Advent. I'm working on developing a new tradition. Then I'll market it and sell it on e-bay and make lots of money on this new intellectual property in the field of "Christmas Traditions."
4. When do you take the tree down? After the Epiphany.
5. Do you like eggnog? I'll usually have a glass or so on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, but otherwise...it's just too thick and rich to have more than a glass.
6. Favorite gift received as a child? I really wanted Western Barbie and her horse, Dallas. And I never got what I wanted for Christmas, and my parents were divorced that year. (Although they were both present for Christmas Eve). And sure enough, on Christmas Eve, I opened Western Barbie...from my Dad! And the next morning, the last gift I opened was a box. It said "Santa" but when I opened it and saw a picture of Dallas on it, I actually figured that it was just a box being re-used and probably had some ugly sweater in it. (I still believed in Santa but kids aren't dumb...they get used to recycled boxes that picture better things than what they contain.) Well, Mom and Dad were both looking really happy, so I opened the box, ready for the sweater or weird sox. But for once, the box contained EXACTLY what it seemed....Dallas! So I got the best COMBINED gift ever.... Dallas and Western Barbie! And played with them for years. I still have them both somewhere, likely with missing and broken parts.
And on a more serious note...my Dad passed away on January 3, 1995. And last weekend, I thought we were going to have Christmas without Mom. So now, I'm grateful for the best gift I've ever received....Mom.
7. Do you have a Nativity scene? No, I don't have anywhere to put it. I do have an olive wood carving of the Holy Family and it has special significance during Christmas, but it is important for me all year long.
8. Hardest person to buy for? Mom. She doesn't need anything and doesn't "want" anything. And is allergic to everything. Or frightened of candles. Etc.
9. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Clothing that doesn't fit or in a style/color I would never wear. Especially since it doesn't fit.
10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Email Christmas Cards? Seriously? Can we say TACKY? I would MAIL Christmas cards, but I never do. I buy them with good intentions, even go so far as to write them up and stuff them in envelopes, then write the person's name on it. And then I never get around to finding or looking up the address, or I don't have stamps, etc...and I never send the cards out. So this year I conceeded defeat and I'm not sending out any cards at all. I don't have the time or money to buy cards I'm not going to send. And don't worry...I don't get a lot of cards, either. Probably because I don't send them. And no, I don't feel snubbed. But I DO treasure the cards I get and they are placed in a location of honor!
11. Favorite Christmas Movie? Well, I love "The Nativity" that came out last year, and I watched it last Sunday night. But otherwise...guilty confession..."National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation."
12. When do you start shopping for Christmas? Um....well...I haven't had time this year. Usually sometime during Advent, on weekends that I'm not studying. Which this year will only give me the weekend just before Christmas. Can we say "nightmare"?
13. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? I don't know, let me check my credit card balance...um.....no. It's all accounted for and still garnering interest!
14. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? We don't really eat anything different at Christmas than at any other time of the year. Sad but true. We have all the same elements at almost every feast. Although....it IS the time of year I can find Divinity. I just LOVE Divinity. Mom says she can't make it, but usually does a decent job, and has made it SPECIALLY for me, God bless her. This year, there will be no baking from Mom, so I must go on the prowl at the grocery store for this delectable delight.... (If anyone is considering a gift for me....divinity...mmmmm)
15. Clear lights or colored on the tree? Both. Lately I'm loving the combinatin of clear/white/blue
16. Favorite Christmas song? O Holy Night
17. Travel at Christmas or stay home? I usually travel to my brother's or Mom's house.
18. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer? Donner, Dancer, Blitzen....Rudolph. Nope. What's your point?
19. Angel on the tree top or a star? Neither. They don't work on a 10" tree. But I have both and have used both.
20. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Growing up it was Christmas Eve, with Santa's gifts on Christmas morning. Then it was Christmas Eve, reserving gifts for Christmas morning. Now it's a couple essential (as in applying to our wine and cheese party) Christmas Eve, and the rest on Christmas Day. This year...dunno. Depends on whether Mom is in a nursing home recovering or is able to actually be somewhere, if only for a few days.
21. Most annoying thing about this time of year? The focus on stuff and wishy-washy "Christmas Spirit" while ignoring the fact we're celebrating the birth of our Savior.
1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Both. I like to wrap gifts in things that don't betray what they are. Sometimes that's impossible so I am forced to use a gift bag. Or it's just more convenient. Although last year I used some things from around the house to hide the shape of the actual gift, which was already oddly shaped but the packaging would have given it away. So I was deceptive in my wrapping and fully mystified my brother. We have a Christmas tradition of wrapping things oddly.
2. Real tree or artificial? Artificial. I had a real tree only twice in my life...my first Christmas in my own apartment (and then I found out we weren't supposed to have them and I wasn't able to sneak it out until March!) And I was given a real tree my first year in my townhome. It's a pain in the butt and my dog kept drinking the water and eating the branches. And I'm still finding needles. Now I have a little 10" artificial tree and I love it!
3. When do you put up the tree? I put mine up Thanksgiving weekend because I had time. It has lights but no decoration...I'll decorate it closer to Christmas, likely the last Sunday of Advent. I'm working on developing a new tradition. Then I'll market it and sell it on e-bay and make lots of money on this new intellectual property in the field of "Christmas Traditions."
4. When do you take the tree down? After the Epiphany.
5. Do you like eggnog? I'll usually have a glass or so on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, but otherwise...it's just too thick and rich to have more than a glass.
6. Favorite gift received as a child? I really wanted Western Barbie and her horse, Dallas. And I never got what I wanted for Christmas, and my parents were divorced that year. (Although they were both present for Christmas Eve). And sure enough, on Christmas Eve, I opened Western Barbie...from my Dad! And the next morning, the last gift I opened was a box. It said "Santa" but when I opened it and saw a picture of Dallas on it, I actually figured that it was just a box being re-used and probably had some ugly sweater in it. (I still believed in Santa but kids aren't dumb...they get used to recycled boxes that picture better things than what they contain.) Well, Mom and Dad were both looking really happy, so I opened the box, ready for the sweater or weird sox. But for once, the box contained EXACTLY what it seemed....Dallas! So I got the best COMBINED gift ever.... Dallas and Western Barbie! And played with them for years. I still have them both somewhere, likely with missing and broken parts.
And on a more serious note...my Dad passed away on January 3, 1995. And last weekend, I thought we were going to have Christmas without Mom. So now, I'm grateful for the best gift I've ever received....Mom.
7. Do you have a Nativity scene? No, I don't have anywhere to put it. I do have an olive wood carving of the Holy Family and it has special significance during Christmas, but it is important for me all year long.
8. Hardest person to buy for? Mom. She doesn't need anything and doesn't "want" anything. And is allergic to everything. Or frightened of candles. Etc.
9. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Clothing that doesn't fit or in a style/color I would never wear. Especially since it doesn't fit.
10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Email Christmas Cards? Seriously? Can we say TACKY? I would MAIL Christmas cards, but I never do. I buy them with good intentions, even go so far as to write them up and stuff them in envelopes, then write the person's name on it. And then I never get around to finding or looking up the address, or I don't have stamps, etc...and I never send the cards out. So this year I conceeded defeat and I'm not sending out any cards at all. I don't have the time or money to buy cards I'm not going to send. And don't worry...I don't get a lot of cards, either. Probably because I don't send them. And no, I don't feel snubbed. But I DO treasure the cards I get and they are placed in a location of honor!
11. Favorite Christmas Movie? Well, I love "The Nativity" that came out last year, and I watched it last Sunday night. But otherwise...guilty confession..."National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation."
12. When do you start shopping for Christmas? Um....well...I haven't had time this year. Usually sometime during Advent, on weekends that I'm not studying. Which this year will only give me the weekend just before Christmas. Can we say "nightmare"?
13. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? I don't know, let me check my credit card balance...um.....no. It's all accounted for and still garnering interest!
14. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? We don't really eat anything different at Christmas than at any other time of the year. Sad but true. We have all the same elements at almost every feast. Although....it IS the time of year I can find Divinity. I just LOVE Divinity. Mom says she can't make it, but usually does a decent job, and has made it SPECIALLY for me, God bless her. This year, there will be no baking from Mom, so I must go on the prowl at the grocery store for this delectable delight.... (If anyone is considering a gift for me....divinity...mmmmm)
15. Clear lights or colored on the tree? Both. Lately I'm loving the combinatin of clear/white/blue
16. Favorite Christmas song? O Holy Night
17. Travel at Christmas or stay home? I usually travel to my brother's or Mom's house.
18. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer? Donner, Dancer, Blitzen....Rudolph. Nope. What's your point?
19. Angel on the tree top or a star? Neither. They don't work on a 10" tree. But I have both and have used both.
20. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Growing up it was Christmas Eve, with Santa's gifts on Christmas morning. Then it was Christmas Eve, reserving gifts for Christmas morning. Now it's a couple essential (as in applying to our wine and cheese party) Christmas Eve, and the rest on Christmas Day. This year...dunno. Depends on whether Mom is in a nursing home recovering or is able to actually be somewhere, if only for a few days.
21. Most annoying thing about this time of year? The focus on stuff and wishy-washy "Christmas Spirit" while ignoring the fact we're celebrating the birth of our Savior.
Stick a Fork in me...I'm Overdone.
I've been working on my paper for Spirituality quite literally ALL DAY LONG. I even took it with me to Adoration, because of 8 pages, I only have 3 1/2. And it's not well written. The connections are mush, and in some places, all I can put together are loose ideas.
Here's the topic: the Eucharist as the Source and Summit of our spirituality. This is not a doctrinal paper, but rather about how everything about Catholic spirituality is ordered to and flows from the Eucharist. It's an awesome topic, and seriously, volums have been written on this. But can I string a single coherent sentence together on it? Nope.
I know where I want to go with this paper. The first page is definitions, involves conversion, because conversion presupposes the sacraments. And then discussion on the sacraments and how they are ordered to the Eucharist. And I can't seem to get through this with quotes from our reading. (Please don't take this as a hint to throw theological tomes at me...I need to use the sources I have and the answers are THERE.) And then I will discuss the Eucharist and what it means for the Church, how it's linked to ongoing conversion and prayer, and of course, how it in fact sends us beyond the Church walls into mission territory as evangelists for Christ.
Sure. I can live it, I can summarize it...I cannot put it on paper. So for tonight, I'm giving up. And I may have to get an extension on this paper.
And my paper on God's mercy in the Old Testament? Well, I have the passages and ideas, and even a very rough outline, but I have not begun to type up the actual 6 page essay.
It's all due by Friday night. I'm in a very serious panic right now.
And so I called it quits and called my Mom. She sounds better, said she feels better, is eating solid food now (YAY!), and we had an actual conversation.
And then she said she's sorry she "wrecked Christmas again." Wha?!
I told her she did not wreck Christmas. She insists she always wrecks Christmas.
And I don't know how to get her to see that this is not her fault, she did not wreck anything, stuff happens and the timing isn't up to her.
* sigh *
I'm so glad this is the end of the semester and of the year. Oh, wait...it's Advent...that means it's just beginning! Just like my grad school career. I seriously have 2 1/2 years of this agony left? Really?
Someone tell me again why I'm working on a Master's degree....and tell me how to deal with a mother with a guilt complex no one gave her?
Here's the topic: the Eucharist as the Source and Summit of our spirituality. This is not a doctrinal paper, but rather about how everything about Catholic spirituality is ordered to and flows from the Eucharist. It's an awesome topic, and seriously, volums have been written on this. But can I string a single coherent sentence together on it? Nope.
I know where I want to go with this paper. The first page is definitions, involves conversion, because conversion presupposes the sacraments. And then discussion on the sacraments and how they are ordered to the Eucharist. And I can't seem to get through this with quotes from our reading. (Please don't take this as a hint to throw theological tomes at me...I need to use the sources I have and the answers are THERE.) And then I will discuss the Eucharist and what it means for the Church, how it's linked to ongoing conversion and prayer, and of course, how it in fact sends us beyond the Church walls into mission territory as evangelists for Christ.
Sure. I can live it, I can summarize it...I cannot put it on paper. So for tonight, I'm giving up. And I may have to get an extension on this paper.
And my paper on God's mercy in the Old Testament? Well, I have the passages and ideas, and even a very rough outline, but I have not begun to type up the actual 6 page essay.
It's all due by Friday night. I'm in a very serious panic right now.
And so I called it quits and called my Mom. She sounds better, said she feels better, is eating solid food now (YAY!), and we had an actual conversation.
And then she said she's sorry she "wrecked Christmas again." Wha?!
I told her she did not wreck Christmas. She insists she always wrecks Christmas.
And I don't know how to get her to see that this is not her fault, she did not wreck anything, stuff happens and the timing isn't up to her.
* sigh *
I'm so glad this is the end of the semester and of the year. Oh, wait...it's Advent...that means it's just beginning! Just like my grad school career. I seriously have 2 1/2 years of this agony left? Really?
Someone tell me again why I'm working on a Master's degree....and tell me how to deal with a mother with a guilt complex no one gave her?
Friday, December 07, 2007
A Meme!
Ironic Catholic tagged me with a meme, and since my brain is fried, I'm going to take some time to do this before I go to sleep.
Rules: Each tagged person must post 8 random facts or habits about themselves on their blog. At the end of the post, choose 8 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment telling them that they are tagged and to read your blog. Have fun!
Is there seriously some random thing my readers DON'T know about me? Let's see if I can find something....
1. I know IC's identity, and no, I am not one of her students. And no, I'm not telling.
2. I nearly went to college on a music scholarship.
3. When I was a child, I was painfully shy, and this lasted even into my Jr. High years. (Although not quite as profoundly as when I was younger).
4. A couple years ago I got banned from a horse ranch when the {ranch} owner found out I was the person who had reported animal neglect of one of the horses boarded there.
5. I wrote a novel when I was 12. I'm re-writing it now.
6. When I was a toddler, a St. Bernard "adopted" me and was my constant companion whenever I was outside playing in the yard. I'll always have a soft spot for St. Barnards (although I'm not a fan of their drool!)
7. I used to want to be an actress. Stop laughing.
8. My pinkies don't completely extend - they're both kinda crooked.
I tag....anyone who went to Mass tonight!
Rules: Each tagged person must post 8 random facts or habits about themselves on their blog. At the end of the post, choose 8 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment telling them that they are tagged and to read your blog. Have fun!
Is there seriously some random thing my readers DON'T know about me? Let's see if I can find something....
1. I know IC's identity, and no, I am not one of her students. And no, I'm not telling.
2. I nearly went to college on a music scholarship.
3. When I was a child, I was painfully shy, and this lasted even into my Jr. High years. (Although not quite as profoundly as when I was younger).
4. A couple years ago I got banned from a horse ranch when the {ranch} owner found out I was the person who had reported animal neglect of one of the horses boarded there.
5. I wrote a novel when I was 12. I'm re-writing it now.
6. When I was a toddler, a St. Bernard "adopted" me and was my constant companion whenever I was outside playing in the yard. I'll always have a soft spot for St. Barnards (although I'm not a fan of their drool!)
7. I used to want to be an actress. Stop laughing.
8. My pinkies don't completely extend - they're both kinda crooked.
I tag....anyone who went to Mass tonight!
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
My Car is Cursed
So it's winter, right? And in Minnesota, right after snowstorms come frigid frigid temps, ranging to 5 F to -20 F. This evening when I left work it was hovering around 0 F. Really not THAT cold, when you think about it.
It's been a long day and I was looking forward to going home. Alas, it was not to be. My car was D. E. A. D. I turned the key again. Nada. I waited a moment, and tried one more time. It rumbled...and that was it. I was hopeful so waited, tried again. Click. Dead.
So, finally convinced that it really wasn't being ornery, but truly had no interest in moving, I went back inside. So I got a jump start, and indeed, it started.
Now, for those of you unfamiliar with my car issues, just last winter around this time my car did something very strange that nearly stranded me. But I managed to make my way to the next exit and got the car to a repair shop. Then took a cab home because I don't have a cell phone, thus had no numbers to call for assistance. (It's very difficult to be a single woman, especially a single woman without a cell phone.)
So the problem turned out to be a defective plug because there was no other explanation for all the misfire codes (I believe it was cylinder 3). Anyway, I got the diagnosis, paid for a rental car to get me around for a day, and picked up my car.
Then a couple months later, still winter....my car did just what it did today. And on that occasion, they told me it needed a new battery. My car is a 2003 Ion, so it should not need a new battery, not at about 42,000 miles. But if that's what it is, so be it. Fix it. And they did.
So, now brings us to today. My car is up on its service, it has 52,300 miles, and the battery was DEAD. Although some of the lights were still working. But they were last winter, too. And this time, I KNOW the battery shouldn't be dead. And it should't be the alternator, either...not at this mileage. Although I'm going to check the NHTSA Office of Defect Investigation (ODI) reports to see if other people are having electrical quirks with this model, too.
It started with a jump, it ran fine getting home, no problems. I keep it in a garage at night which has never been below 40 or 38 F during the time I've lived here.
And for those who are not familiar with Saturns, the battery is in the trunk, not in the engine compartment. That is supposed to protect it from moisture issues resulting from messy roads in rain and snow. And believe you me, my trunk was dry.
* sigh * I can NOT afford another expensive problem!
I hate cars. And mortgages, association fees, heating bills, the price of gas....etc. Oh, and while I'm on a roll, I hate papers that aren't done yet, too.
God, it's your stuff. I'm going to bed. YOU deal with it.
It's been a long day and I was looking forward to going home. Alas, it was not to be. My car was D. E. A. D. I turned the key again. Nada. I waited a moment, and tried one more time. It rumbled...and that was it. I was hopeful so waited, tried again. Click. Dead.
So, finally convinced that it really wasn't being ornery, but truly had no interest in moving, I went back inside. So I got a jump start, and indeed, it started.
Now, for those of you unfamiliar with my car issues, just last winter around this time my car did something very strange that nearly stranded me. But I managed to make my way to the next exit and got the car to a repair shop. Then took a cab home because I don't have a cell phone, thus had no numbers to call for assistance. (It's very difficult to be a single woman, especially a single woman without a cell phone.)
So the problem turned out to be a defective plug because there was no other explanation for all the misfire codes (I believe it was cylinder 3). Anyway, I got the diagnosis, paid for a rental car to get me around for a day, and picked up my car.
Then a couple months later, still winter....my car did just what it did today. And on that occasion, they told me it needed a new battery. My car is a 2003 Ion, so it should not need a new battery, not at about 42,000 miles. But if that's what it is, so be it. Fix it. And they did.
So, now brings us to today. My car is up on its service, it has 52,300 miles, and the battery was DEAD. Although some of the lights were still working. But they were last winter, too. And this time, I KNOW the battery shouldn't be dead. And it should't be the alternator, either...not at this mileage. Although I'm going to check the NHTSA Office of Defect Investigation (ODI) reports to see if other people are having electrical quirks with this model, too.
It started with a jump, it ran fine getting home, no problems. I keep it in a garage at night which has never been below 40 or 38 F during the time I've lived here.
And for those who are not familiar with Saturns, the battery is in the trunk, not in the engine compartment. That is supposed to protect it from moisture issues resulting from messy roads in rain and snow. And believe you me, my trunk was dry.
* sigh * I can NOT afford another expensive problem!
I hate cars. And mortgages, association fees, heating bills, the price of gas....etc. Oh, and while I'm on a roll, I hate papers that aren't done yet, too.
God, it's your stuff. I'm going to bed. YOU deal with it.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
So it's Winter in Minnesota...
...thus it took me over an hour and a half to get home from work tonight. And Thursday promises to be another such nightmare.
One thing I will say for living in small towns and the boonies...the winter weather isn't nearly so bad because a few inches on a country road is nothing in comparison to even a half inch in a city.
And after my hour-and-a-half drive home, after which I collapsed in gratefulness, I opened my bag to set my books out so I could work on my paper. And it wasn't there. Because I'd taken my course notes out of my bag at work during a discussion with a co-worker who is also in the IPT program. And when I left work I forgot to place it back in my bag.
And I can't do a thing on my paper without this bound book containing the information provided by the professor....the framework for the paper.
* sigh *
So I've been re-reading Kings, Joshua, Judges, and now I'm doing word searches with concordances....which is mostly useless. I'm supposed to write a 3 (min) page single-spaced paper about God's mercy in the Old Testament. I can find some of the themes, but keep in mind; this is a synthesis of similar themes and passages, not an explanation. I can "flesh out" just a little, but overall, right now I have about 20 notations which would give me less than a page.
This is so not cool.
What is the Hebrew word for "Without Hope" and "Not Pitied by God"?
One thing I will say for living in small towns and the boonies...the winter weather isn't nearly so bad because a few inches on a country road is nothing in comparison to even a half inch in a city.
And after my hour-and-a-half drive home, after which I collapsed in gratefulness, I opened my bag to set my books out so I could work on my paper. And it wasn't there. Because I'd taken my course notes out of my bag at work during a discussion with a co-worker who is also in the IPT program. And when I left work I forgot to place it back in my bag.
And I can't do a thing on my paper without this bound book containing the information provided by the professor....the framework for the paper.
* sigh *
So I've been re-reading Kings, Joshua, Judges, and now I'm doing word searches with concordances....which is mostly useless. I'm supposed to write a 3 (min) page single-spaced paper about God's mercy in the Old Testament. I can find some of the themes, but keep in mind; this is a synthesis of similar themes and passages, not an explanation. I can "flesh out" just a little, but overall, right now I have about 20 notations which would give me less than a page.
This is so not cool.
What is the Hebrew word for "Without Hope" and "Not Pitied by God"?
Monday, December 03, 2007
Monday Update
My brother called - they found the cause of the blockage. It's an adhesion from old scar tissue. So this evening at 5:15 she'll be going into surgery. It'll be a small incision, they'll go in and clean it up, and worst case scenario, remove part of the intestine. They do not believe it's cancerous as the CT scan did not show any kind of a mass.
So please keep praying this evening as my Mom is in surgery. It's a simple one, about 20 minutes, they told my brother, and then she'll be in recovery. This will require another 4-8 days in the hospital, but it looks like things are looking brighter already.
Thank you for your prayers!
UPDATE 8:15 PM: My brother called. He is at the hospital with my aunt and some cousins. Mom is still in surgery. She didn't go in until 7 or so, but still, this is taking longer than they stated, which tends to indicate they didn't find what they expected.
UPDATE 8:55 PM: Mom is out of surgery. It actually wasn't as bad as they thought, and all they had to do was untwist the intestine. I'm not clear on exactly what happened, but it's all related to a bad surgical job from when her appendix came out in the '50's. My brother doesn't do a very good job of explaining things and what he did say made no sense. So I'm only reporting the small bit that does make sense - the untwisting, and the lack of any surgical cutting to the intestine itself. It was unnecessary, and thus she has a much lower risk of post-surgical infection, quicker healing, etc. She'll be out of the hospital in 4-5 days. And two of our Aunts, a cousin, my brother, and his girlfriend were there, and they were calling the rest of the family in the meantime.
Now prayers moving forward to recovery!
Merry Christmas to us!
So please keep praying this evening as my Mom is in surgery. It's a simple one, about 20 minutes, they told my brother, and then she'll be in recovery. This will require another 4-8 days in the hospital, but it looks like things are looking brighter already.
Thank you for your prayers!
UPDATE 8:15 PM: My brother called. He is at the hospital with my aunt and some cousins. Mom is still in surgery. She didn't go in until 7 or so, but still, this is taking longer than they stated, which tends to indicate they didn't find what they expected.
UPDATE 8:55 PM: Mom is out of surgery. It actually wasn't as bad as they thought, and all they had to do was untwist the intestine. I'm not clear on exactly what happened, but it's all related to a bad surgical job from when her appendix came out in the '50's. My brother doesn't do a very good job of explaining things and what he did say made no sense. So I'm only reporting the small bit that does make sense - the untwisting, and the lack of any surgical cutting to the intestine itself. It was unnecessary, and thus she has a much lower risk of post-surgical infection, quicker healing, etc. She'll be out of the hospital in 4-5 days. And two of our Aunts, a cousin, my brother, and his girlfriend were there, and they were calling the rest of the family in the meantime.
Now prayers moving forward to recovery!
Merry Christmas to us!
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Odd and Ends
It's been a weird weekend. I'm sick, Mom's REALLY sick, and this morning at Mass I could not stop my mind from wandering. The subject of my wandering mind? Mom's funeral planning. How to pay for the cemetary plot, where she'll be buried, how my brother and I will handle this, etc. And of course, I'm certain a particular uncle would step in; that seems to be his role in a crisis.
I nearly burst into tears during the homily; not because of what the good Deacon was saying, (his homily was good, but not touching), but because my distraction was too much for me. Somehow I managed to focus on what he was saying, but I can't honestly say I prayed much during Mass.
I wish I'd known before Mass that the priest had been in to see Mom; that would have been a huge weight off my mind.
Anyway, I feel better about things but we still have a huge diagnosis looming, and that scares me.
All day I've been trying to work on my papers. I took a break to watch the Birds of Prey Downhill from Beaver Creek, CO, which was awesome. And then back to work. I have a page and a paragraph on the Spirituality paper, and my Synthetic paper for Old Testament is, shall we say...going nowhere. I can't seem to make the connections, am just completely lost. This might as well be chemistry.
Then I gave up in favor of cooking dinner; Tuna Casserole with potato chip topping. It was a favorite growing up, and maybe the first thing I ever learned how to cook. Of course, I haven't made it in so many years I forgot how, so had to look up a recipe for it.
Amazing. I can make soups, I can grill salmon to die for, but I can't make Tuna Casserole. (Or "Hotdish" for my other midwestern compatriots).
It's edible, certainly, but the noodles are overcooked, the "sauce" is too thick so the total is a bit dry, and ironically, I didn't put enough chips on top.
If Jesus came to my door and asked for dinner, I would most certainly NOT give Him this. * sigh *
I'll eat it though. It's cheap and edible...and for now, that's enough.
I nearly burst into tears during the homily; not because of what the good Deacon was saying, (his homily was good, but not touching), but because my distraction was too much for me. Somehow I managed to focus on what he was saying, but I can't honestly say I prayed much during Mass.
I wish I'd known before Mass that the priest had been in to see Mom; that would have been a huge weight off my mind.
Anyway, I feel better about things but we still have a huge diagnosis looming, and that scares me.
All day I've been trying to work on my papers. I took a break to watch the Birds of Prey Downhill from Beaver Creek, CO, which was awesome. And then back to work. I have a page and a paragraph on the Spirituality paper, and my Synthetic paper for Old Testament is, shall we say...going nowhere. I can't seem to make the connections, am just completely lost. This might as well be chemistry.
Then I gave up in favor of cooking dinner; Tuna Casserole with potato chip topping. It was a favorite growing up, and maybe the first thing I ever learned how to cook. Of course, I haven't made it in so many years I forgot how, so had to look up a recipe for it.
Amazing. I can make soups, I can grill salmon to die for, but I can't make Tuna Casserole. (Or "Hotdish" for my other midwestern compatriots).
It's edible, certainly, but the noodles are overcooked, the "sauce" is too thick so the total is a bit dry, and ironically, I didn't put enough chips on top.
If Jesus came to my door and asked for dinner, I would most certainly NOT give Him this. * sigh *
I'll eat it though. It's cheap and edible...and for now, that's enough.
Sunday Update on Mom
I just spoke with my brother. It is so hard to get information out of him! Seriously, he says there's nothing new, and then after a little prodding I find that there is, in fact, a WEALTH of information.
He spoke with my aunt last night after she'd been to visit Mom. (She lives in a nearby town). She said Mom looks good, but tired. She still has the NG tube but it's doing its job and releasing pressure in her abdomen, and apparently this is also improving her general comfort level.
And the BEST information I've had in DAYS: When my aunt arrived around 7:30 pm last night, the priest was just leaving. Apparently his visit really perked Mom up and raised her spirits. You have NO IDEA what joy that news brings me!
But we're not done yet...we still have to get the CT scan results. And that's the scary part.
I haven't called Mom yet today...afternoons tend to be nap time, so I'm going to call her later to see how she's doing.
UPDATE 3:20 pm: I just called my Mom, my cousin answered the phone, which scared me for a moment. But she handed the phone over. Our conversation was short because Mom can't speak very easily, but she did say she feels a LOT better today, and she's happy so many of our family who live in the area have been able to visit her.
She confirmed the priest's visit; both the hospital and I called, apparently. Funny; the person at the hospital I spoke with last night said that they don't call the churches, they just put names on their list. So that makes me wonder if some faithful Catholic who happens to work at the hospital took the initiative to call? In any case, I'm very grateful. And still praying.
He spoke with my aunt last night after she'd been to visit Mom. (She lives in a nearby town). She said Mom looks good, but tired. She still has the NG tube but it's doing its job and releasing pressure in her abdomen, and apparently this is also improving her general comfort level.
And the BEST information I've had in DAYS: When my aunt arrived around 7:30 pm last night, the priest was just leaving. Apparently his visit really perked Mom up and raised her spirits. You have NO IDEA what joy that news brings me!
But we're not done yet...we still have to get the CT scan results. And that's the scary part.
I haven't called Mom yet today...afternoons tend to be nap time, so I'm going to call her later to see how she's doing.
UPDATE 3:20 pm: I just called my Mom, my cousin answered the phone, which scared me for a moment. But she handed the phone over. Our conversation was short because Mom can't speak very easily, but she did say she feels a LOT better today, and she's happy so many of our family who live in the area have been able to visit her.
She confirmed the priest's visit; both the hospital and I called, apparently. Funny; the person at the hospital I spoke with last night said that they don't call the churches, they just put names on their list. So that makes me wonder if some faithful Catholic who happens to work at the hospital took the initiative to call? In any case, I'm very grateful. And still praying.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Update on Mom
My brother called me this afternoon with an update; Mom has a bowel obstruction. They actually removed a lot of fluid from her stomach (via NG tube), and of course, it goes without saying that she's remaining in the hospital.
I called Mom this afternoon before I went to Adoration. She sounded very weak...I've never heard her sound like that. She is very dehydrated, and said that they'll get the CT Scan results back on Monday; then they'll be able to decide what to do about the obstruction. In the meantime, she's on IV fluids and nutrition.
I asked her if a hospital chaplain has been to visit her. She had no idea what I was talking about, so I rephrased the question: Has a priest been by to see her?
No.
Would she like a priest to visit her? (I was keeping the language very simplistic...she's very confused).
Yes, she would like a priest to visit.
So I told her I'd make some calls, and she was happy with that.
I called the local parish. I'm not sure if she's a member there officially, but it's the nearest Catholic church and she does attend Mass and other events there on occasion. They are unfortunately not open on Saturdays, and I didn't feel that it was proper to call the emergency line; from what I can tell so far, Mom is very sick, but stable.
So I called the hospital and found she wasn't even on a list, so I had her listed a Catholic, that she would like to recieve the Sacrament of the Sick, and listed her parish as the local one. The next time a priest comes by, he'll know to go up to her room. My guess is that they are there on weekends, Saturday or Sunday after Mass, or both.
Thank you for your prayers.
I called Mom this afternoon before I went to Adoration. She sounded very weak...I've never heard her sound like that. She is very dehydrated, and said that they'll get the CT Scan results back on Monday; then they'll be able to decide what to do about the obstruction. In the meantime, she's on IV fluids and nutrition.
I asked her if a hospital chaplain has been to visit her. She had no idea what I was talking about, so I rephrased the question: Has a priest been by to see her?
No.
Would she like a priest to visit her? (I was keeping the language very simplistic...she's very confused).
Yes, she would like a priest to visit.
So I told her I'd make some calls, and she was happy with that.
I called the local parish. I'm not sure if she's a member there officially, but it's the nearest Catholic church and she does attend Mass and other events there on occasion. They are unfortunately not open on Saturdays, and I didn't feel that it was proper to call the emergency line; from what I can tell so far, Mom is very sick, but stable.
So I called the hospital and found she wasn't even on a list, so I had her listed a Catholic, that she would like to recieve the Sacrament of the Sick, and listed her parish as the local one. The next time a priest comes by, he'll know to go up to her room. My guess is that they are there on weekends, Saturday or Sunday after Mass, or both.
Thank you for your prayers.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Urgent Prayer Request
I just recieved word from my brother that Mom is in the hospital.
She's been sick with the flu, hasn't been able to keep anything down for two days, including medication. Considering that she's bipolar, diabetic, and has some heart problems, this is a very bad thing. So today she had an appointment and her sister was going to pick her up at 10:30. But Mom apparently left way early for her appointment and was already there when my aunt arrived to pick her up. Understandably, my aunt was both confused and very worried.
Mom didn't bring her cell phone or anything else...she just went.
The clinic sent her to the Emergency Room, and she's since been admitted for observation over the weekend for dehydration, low blood sugar, electrolyte issues, and very low blood pressure.
My brother is on the way down to get some things from her apartment and will hopefully see her yet tonight. Please keep her in your prayers.
She's been sick with the flu, hasn't been able to keep anything down for two days, including medication. Considering that she's bipolar, diabetic, and has some heart problems, this is a very bad thing. So today she had an appointment and her sister was going to pick her up at 10:30. But Mom apparently left way early for her appointment and was already there when my aunt arrived to pick her up. Understandably, my aunt was both confused and very worried.
Mom didn't bring her cell phone or anything else...she just went.
The clinic sent her to the Emergency Room, and she's since been admitted for observation over the weekend for dehydration, low blood sugar, electrolyte issues, and very low blood pressure.
My brother is on the way down to get some things from her apartment and will hopefully see her yet tonight. Please keep her in your prayers.
Blecchh
I'm sick, just called in. I hate being sick.
All week I've been fighting a cold, nearly called in on Wednesday, but it was going to be one of our busiest days so I went in. And seriously, had I not been there my co-workers would have been crushed by all the happenings. Yesterday I was still under the weather, but felt a little better, and went for Thai food at lunch...to get the spicy stuff. And it helped. For awhile, but I ended up leaving work an hour early figuring to just add an hour to my 4 hour day today. And I have to be at work very early on Saturday morning for something.
And I've been having really weird dreams all week long, too. Bizarre vivid dreams that often characterize fevers. One night I was wandering around in a chausable - and it was a real pretty one, not the tablecloths the self-styled "priestesses" wear. And even in the dream I thought it odd that I'd be wearing a chausable. In another dream, my brother was telling me what chapters or verses to look in for information on God's mercy in the Bible (for my synthetic paper). It was verse 31 and 40. Or chapter 31 and 40. Or psalm? I don't remember, but believe you me, my brother would not give such advice. I'm not sure he even knows what the Bible is.
Anyway, I think this is the first time I'm calling in to work and not overly worried about what isn't getting done. There are no claims coming in, no vehicle inspections being cancelled. I'm not going to come back to a mountain of voice mails tomorrow morning. In other words, I can stay home and be sick in peace. And get well with my chicken broth and warm lemonade.
Although, sadly, I still have to go to the store, I still have to take the dog out on occasion, and these things are not negotiable. All I wanna do is hang out in a warm cozy house with a cup of tea in my fuzzy robe and fuzzy slippers. And nap a lot, the type of nap only a sick person can take. I don't wanna go outside!
And it's a First Friday so I HAVE to go to Mass tonight, but if I still feel like this I should not be in a crowd. * sigh *
OK, I'm going to end my whining now. Hope you all don't get this cold. It's flattened everyone else in my family already.
All week I've been fighting a cold, nearly called in on Wednesday, but it was going to be one of our busiest days so I went in. And seriously, had I not been there my co-workers would have been crushed by all the happenings. Yesterday I was still under the weather, but felt a little better, and went for Thai food at lunch...to get the spicy stuff. And it helped. For awhile, but I ended up leaving work an hour early figuring to just add an hour to my 4 hour day today. And I have to be at work very early on Saturday morning for something.
And I've been having really weird dreams all week long, too. Bizarre vivid dreams that often characterize fevers. One night I was wandering around in a chausable - and it was a real pretty one, not the tablecloths the self-styled "priestesses" wear. And even in the dream I thought it odd that I'd be wearing a chausable. In another dream, my brother was telling me what chapters or verses to look in for information on God's mercy in the Bible (for my synthetic paper). It was verse 31 and 40. Or chapter 31 and 40. Or psalm? I don't remember, but believe you me, my brother would not give such advice. I'm not sure he even knows what the Bible is.
Anyway, I think this is the first time I'm calling in to work and not overly worried about what isn't getting done. There are no claims coming in, no vehicle inspections being cancelled. I'm not going to come back to a mountain of voice mails tomorrow morning. In other words, I can stay home and be sick in peace. And get well with my chicken broth and warm lemonade.
Although, sadly, I still have to go to the store, I still have to take the dog out on occasion, and these things are not negotiable. All I wanna do is hang out in a warm cozy house with a cup of tea in my fuzzy robe and fuzzy slippers. And nap a lot, the type of nap only a sick person can take. I don't wanna go outside!
And it's a First Friday so I HAVE to go to Mass tonight, but if I still feel like this I should not be in a crowd. * sigh *
OK, I'm going to end my whining now. Hope you all don't get this cold. It's flattened everyone else in my family already.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Andrea
Last Thursday, and again today, I watched "Bridge to Terabithia", and let me tell you, this movie never fails to make me cry. Like a baby. Fine if I'm alone, but I was with my family last Thursday and trying really hard to not show emotion! (I have a hard time crying around other people and if I do so I'm horribly embarassed.)
Anyway, tonight, there it was again, and this time, I have a chance to write about what is on my mind. One of the memories this movie brings back is not so flattering, but may at the same time be of use to the mind of a child.
I don't know how old I was, maybe 7, and we lived in a country neighborhood, a conglomeration of trailer homes and houses, most of which were single-story. We weren't even on a map (until my Mom got involved due to another family losing their home to a fire...long story.)
Then one day I met Andrea, who was new to the neighborhood, and, joy of my heart, her family had HORSES! One day after school I got permission to go to her house with the admonition to not go into the horses's paddock. Mom was insistent that she "meet" any horse I even considered petting. She knew my love for horses, as well as my disregard for consequences including those caused by wild animals.
But given Andrea's description of the colt, Toby, and his mama, Bella, I really wanted to go see the horses!
Andrea arrived at her house, but the horses were not in sight. They weren't in the barn, so she ducked under the fence. I knew not to go...but of course, did so anyway. My new friend kept speaking of Toby's sweetness and his beauty...and certainly he was within the fence even if behind the barn! So I ducked in between the wooden fence slats and followed her through the hoof-beaten paddock, taking care not to turn my ankle in the deep hoof prints in the hardened clay of the Illinois (Rock River) river valley clay.
We wandered around the long weatherbeaten barn, chatting amiably, and as we cleared the far side, we saw the alleyway that ran between the wood-and-wire fence and the barn. At the far end stood Toby, a chestnut colt, looking at us curiously, head up, ears forward, somewhat smug in his expression. He was A LOT larger than I expected, as I still had the mental image of "colt" as being a "short-statured baby horse."
Yeah. He was a yearling. Horse people know how big he really was to a 7-year-old.
So as Toby trotted towards we human creatures curiously, we did what was natural in the face of a large oncoming equine...we ran! I followed Andrea around the barn as Toby's hoofbeats followed. She ducked under the fence...and I tripped in one of the deep hoof-caverns there in the hardened clay. Toby was coming! He was at the corner of the barn, coming towards us...and I crawled towards the fence, sure I would be trampled. He was upon me! And somehow I rolled in a very undignified manner under the lower slat and pulled my hand away...just in time!
There Toby stood, his muzzle seeking treats and attention, curious as to why we'd engaged him in a game of "Tag!" if we weren't willing to acquiesce!
Andrea herself had been forbidden to pet Toby when no adult was present, so both we and the poor colt went unfilled.
And there's the connection to Terabithia; Andrea was an imaginative girl, but her family was poor. And so, when she came to school, as she was poorer than my family, she was picked on.
In some ways, I was happy that they were picking on someone other than me. In other ways, I saw in her a real friend...and it tore me apart...because I didn't know how to handle that kind of conflict.
One day after school as we walked together (she had to pass my house) she pointed out the hoof prints in the yard of the neighbor who housed the unofficial "bus stop". She talked about how she was riding with her sister and Bella had gotten out of hand...and put large divots in the neighbor's yard.
That Monday, at the bus stop, the divots became an "issue". And I told the other kids the story about the out of control horse and the damage done to the property. And everyone was rarin' to go and went off on this, condmning Andrea for damage to a neighbor's property. (Never mind that the property owner knew about it, had forgiven it, was witness to the young women nearly falling off the horse...etc...).
Yup. When Andrea arrived, she was subjected to Hell at the hands of her peers. And I was a willing accomplice.
She rode the bus alone that day, head down, and home the same way, walking alone. I felt badly all day, completely guilty..but was afraid to act in her defense lest they jump on me as well. And I saw that it was my own fault.
The next day, Andrea wasn't there. We all felt bad, thought it was our fault, and that we should make it up to her.
Then further down the bus route, we picked up my friend Corrine. She described the police out on the river, the Fire Dept. boats, etc...they were looking for someone. It was a response all we river people had seen all our lives...they were looking for a drowning victim.
We immediately jumped to the conclusion they were looking for Andrea when we revealed to Corrine that Andrea wasn't there that day.
"So that's what all the commotion was about!" She cried.
All day long, the rumor spread: We picked on Andrea, and she drowned herself. It was all very dramatic, and we were at fault. If we hadn't picked on her, she would still be with us. We were too harsh. It wasn't her fault. We really did love her.
It was an agonizing day. The teachers had no idea what we were talking about, or that Andrea's drowning was even the topic of our angst and weird silences throughout the day.
It never occurred to us to discuss the illogic that Corrine lived about 3 miles up the road, and if Andrea was going to drown herself, she would do so at the nearest bank, and then flow south towards Oregon (a local town...we were between it an Byron).
A friend and I stopped when we got off the bus, to regard the hoof prints in the ground...the last memoir of Andrea, our betrayal of her, and our shock at her passing. It was horrible. We were convicted by the hoofprints.
I was crying when I got home, and told Mom all about how Andrea killed herself because of us. It was all our fault. We shouldn't have been so mean.
Mom of course had met Andrea and was very shocked by all of this, especially the idea that a 7 year old would make her way from her house to the river without someone knowing aobut it. And the fact that we had no official sources for this event.
So Mom called her house. I of course tried to stop her, not wanting to cause her family more pain...and terrified they would hate me.
Mom had a great conversation with Andrea's mother, told her the story, was laughing not long after, and when she hung up the phone, gave me a message about rumors, both starting them, participating in them, and in fact....believing them.
Andrea was fine, Mom was proud to share, and her family was thrilled that she was still alive and such a subject of love in our neighborhood and our school.
And in fact, when Andrea came back, we all made it a point to make up to her. It's not everyday that one gets a second chance!
Anyway, tonight, there it was again, and this time, I have a chance to write about what is on my mind. One of the memories this movie brings back is not so flattering, but may at the same time be of use to the mind of a child.
I don't know how old I was, maybe 7, and we lived in a country neighborhood, a conglomeration of trailer homes and houses, most of which were single-story. We weren't even on a map (until my Mom got involved due to another family losing their home to a fire...long story.)
Then one day I met Andrea, who was new to the neighborhood, and, joy of my heart, her family had HORSES! One day after school I got permission to go to her house with the admonition to not go into the horses's paddock. Mom was insistent that she "meet" any horse I even considered petting. She knew my love for horses, as well as my disregard for consequences including those caused by wild animals.
But given Andrea's description of the colt, Toby, and his mama, Bella, I really wanted to go see the horses!
Andrea arrived at her house, but the horses were not in sight. They weren't in the barn, so she ducked under the fence. I knew not to go...but of course, did so anyway. My new friend kept speaking of Toby's sweetness and his beauty...and certainly he was within the fence even if behind the barn! So I ducked in between the wooden fence slats and followed her through the hoof-beaten paddock, taking care not to turn my ankle in the deep hoof prints in the hardened clay of the Illinois (Rock River) river valley clay.
We wandered around the long weatherbeaten barn, chatting amiably, and as we cleared the far side, we saw the alleyway that ran between the wood-and-wire fence and the barn. At the far end stood Toby, a chestnut colt, looking at us curiously, head up, ears forward, somewhat smug in his expression. He was A LOT larger than I expected, as I still had the mental image of "colt" as being a "short-statured baby horse."
Yeah. He was a yearling. Horse people know how big he really was to a 7-year-old.
So as Toby trotted towards we human creatures curiously, we did what was natural in the face of a large oncoming equine...we ran! I followed Andrea around the barn as Toby's hoofbeats followed. She ducked under the fence...and I tripped in one of the deep hoof-caverns there in the hardened clay. Toby was coming! He was at the corner of the barn, coming towards us...and I crawled towards the fence, sure I would be trampled. He was upon me! And somehow I rolled in a very undignified manner under the lower slat and pulled my hand away...just in time!
There Toby stood, his muzzle seeking treats and attention, curious as to why we'd engaged him in a game of "Tag!" if we weren't willing to acquiesce!
Andrea herself had been forbidden to pet Toby when no adult was present, so both we and the poor colt went unfilled.
And there's the connection to Terabithia; Andrea was an imaginative girl, but her family was poor. And so, when she came to school, as she was poorer than my family, she was picked on.
In some ways, I was happy that they were picking on someone other than me. In other ways, I saw in her a real friend...and it tore me apart...because I didn't know how to handle that kind of conflict.
One day after school as we walked together (she had to pass my house) she pointed out the hoof prints in the yard of the neighbor who housed the unofficial "bus stop". She talked about how she was riding with her sister and Bella had gotten out of hand...and put large divots in the neighbor's yard.
That Monday, at the bus stop, the divots became an "issue". And I told the other kids the story about the out of control horse and the damage done to the property. And everyone was rarin' to go and went off on this, condmning Andrea for damage to a neighbor's property. (Never mind that the property owner knew about it, had forgiven it, was witness to the young women nearly falling off the horse...etc...).
Yup. When Andrea arrived, she was subjected to Hell at the hands of her peers. And I was a willing accomplice.
She rode the bus alone that day, head down, and home the same way, walking alone. I felt badly all day, completely guilty..but was afraid to act in her defense lest they jump on me as well. And I saw that it was my own fault.
The next day, Andrea wasn't there. We all felt bad, thought it was our fault, and that we should make it up to her.
Then further down the bus route, we picked up my friend Corrine. She described the police out on the river, the Fire Dept. boats, etc...they were looking for someone. It was a response all we river people had seen all our lives...they were looking for a drowning victim.
We immediately jumped to the conclusion they were looking for Andrea when we revealed to Corrine that Andrea wasn't there that day.
"So that's what all the commotion was about!" She cried.
All day long, the rumor spread: We picked on Andrea, and she drowned herself. It was all very dramatic, and we were at fault. If we hadn't picked on her, she would still be with us. We were too harsh. It wasn't her fault. We really did love her.
It was an agonizing day. The teachers had no idea what we were talking about, or that Andrea's drowning was even the topic of our angst and weird silences throughout the day.
It never occurred to us to discuss the illogic that Corrine lived about 3 miles up the road, and if Andrea was going to drown herself, she would do so at the nearest bank, and then flow south towards Oregon (a local town...we were between it an Byron).
A friend and I stopped when we got off the bus, to regard the hoof prints in the ground...the last memoir of Andrea, our betrayal of her, and our shock at her passing. It was horrible. We were convicted by the hoofprints.
I was crying when I got home, and told Mom all about how Andrea killed herself because of us. It was all our fault. We shouldn't have been so mean.
Mom of course had met Andrea and was very shocked by all of this, especially the idea that a 7 year old would make her way from her house to the river without someone knowing aobut it. And the fact that we had no official sources for this event.
So Mom called her house. I of course tried to stop her, not wanting to cause her family more pain...and terrified they would hate me.
Mom had a great conversation with Andrea's mother, told her the story, was laughing not long after, and when she hung up the phone, gave me a message about rumors, both starting them, participating in them, and in fact....believing them.
Andrea was fine, Mom was proud to share, and her family was thrilled that she was still alive and such a subject of love in our neighborhood and our school.
And in fact, when Andrea came back, we all made it a point to make up to her. It's not everyday that one gets a second chance!
Observations from Parish Life
You just never know what you're going to see from day to day or what lessons you're going to take away with you. These are just a few of my observations and lessons, and other things that leave me scratching my head on a regular basis:
1. Sometimes you just have to stop in the hallway and stand on your head for awhile before toddling onward.
2. Playing with doors is fun!
3. The patron Saint of the parish looks very cool when sporting sunglasses.
4. Some tape must be from a joke store - because it only holds posters to the wall when people are present, but is always later on found stuck to the floor.
5. The rooms are always too hot. The hallways are always too cold.
6. Most priests are not "dog people". There are exceptions but they are rare.
7. No one knows where the overhead projector came from or where it should go when it's done being used. The best thing to do is to walk with it back and forth down the hallway until someone else either needs it or finds somewhere to store it.
8. There is NEVER enough available space in a church/school complex.
9. If parts of the coffeepot are missing, it becomes useless for making coffee but can be utilized for other things. Don't ask.
10. Where's that projector!? They just used it last night!
11. According to the children, they only time they need to behave is when a nun is present. Or a woman dressed as a nun.
12. According to 6th graders, it's only a sin "if you get caught!"
13. Even the calender requires a monthly meeting.
14. If the church has a sound system and it is desperately needed, it won't work.
15. If a key to something is desperately needed, it won't be found. Anywhere.
16. Christmas decorations make incredible hats!
17. If you come across a teen with angel wings kneeling on the floor picking up paper clips...don't ask.
18. People ask questions such as "Why do the children need to learn the Act of Contrition for the Sacrament of Reconciliation?" (as an aside - HUH!?)
19. In the event of a missing 1st grader, try not to panic the Catechists even when YOU want to panic yourself.
20. Now I (and you) know why it's necessary to occasionally stop in the middle of the hallway and stand on one's head: it makes the world look right-side up if even for a moment.
1. Sometimes you just have to stop in the hallway and stand on your head for awhile before toddling onward.
2. Playing with doors is fun!
3. The patron Saint of the parish looks very cool when sporting sunglasses.
4. Some tape must be from a joke store - because it only holds posters to the wall when people are present, but is always later on found stuck to the floor.
5. The rooms are always too hot. The hallways are always too cold.
6. Most priests are not "dog people". There are exceptions but they are rare.
7. No one knows where the overhead projector came from or where it should go when it's done being used. The best thing to do is to walk with it back and forth down the hallway until someone else either needs it or finds somewhere to store it.
8. There is NEVER enough available space in a church/school complex.
9. If parts of the coffeepot are missing, it becomes useless for making coffee but can be utilized for other things. Don't ask.
10. Where's that projector!? They just used it last night!
11. According to the children, they only time they need to behave is when a nun is present. Or a woman dressed as a nun.
12. According to 6th graders, it's only a sin "if you get caught!"
13. Even the calender requires a monthly meeting.
14. If the church has a sound system and it is desperately needed, it won't work.
15. If a key to something is desperately needed, it won't be found. Anywhere.
16. Christmas decorations make incredible hats!
17. If you come across a teen with angel wings kneeling on the floor picking up paper clips...don't ask.
18. People ask questions such as "Why do the children need to learn the Act of Contrition for the Sacrament of Reconciliation?" (as an aside - HUH!?)
19. In the event of a missing 1st grader, try not to panic the Catechists even when YOU want to panic yourself.
20. Now I (and you) know why it's necessary to occasionally stop in the middle of the hallway and stand on one's head: it makes the world look right-side up if even for a moment.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Book List for 2nd Semester
Would anyone be offended if I posted my book list for 2nd Semester? I hope not. Consider this a "wish list" of sorts. Please let me know if you have these books and you're willing to send them my way to be marked up, tabbed, and used for higher education:
***** Catholic Theological Tradition *************
- Richardson, Cyril, ed Early Christian Fathers, TAN books,
ISBN-10: 0684829517 or (pbk) 13 - 978-0684829517
- Belloc, Hilaire, The Great Heresies ISBN-10:0895554755, ISBN 13: 978-0895554758
- Chesterton, G.K., St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Francis of Assisi Introduction by Ralph McInerny and Joseph Pearce, Ignatius Press, ISBN-10:0898709458 or ISBN 13:978-898709452
- Neuner, Josef, S.J. and Jacques Dupuis, S.J., eds. The Christian Faith: Doctrinal Documents of the Catholic Church, 7th Edition, New York: Alba House, 2001.
ISBN-10:0819908939 or ISBN-13:978-0818908934 (hrdcover)
- Bedouelle, Guy, The History of the Church (Handbooks of Catholic Theology Series) London/New York: Continuum, 2003
ISBN-10:0826414818 or ISBN-13:978-0826414816
******* Fundamental Theology ******************
- Kreeft, Peter and Ronald K. Tacelli, Handbook of Christian Apologetics, Downer's Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1004.
ISBN-1-0830817743 or ISBN-13:978-0830817740 (pbk)
- Sheed, Frank, Theology and Sanity, San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1993 (Original 1947) ISBN-10:0385508190 or ISBN-13:978-0898704709 (pbk)
- Lewis, C.S. Mere Christianity, Harper SanFrancisco, 2001
ISBN-10:0060652926 or ISBN-13: 978-0060652920
**************New Testament I ***********************
- Dauphiniais, M. and M. Levering, Holy People, Holy Land: A theological Introduction to the Bible, Grand Rapids, Brazon Press, 2005
ISBN: 1-58743-123-8
- Carson, D.A. and D.J. Moo, An Introduction to the New Testament, Second Edition. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2005.
ISBN-10:0-310-23859-5 or ISBN -13:978-0-31023859-1
- Ratzinger, Joseph, Pope Benedict XVI, Jesus of Nazareth. New York:Doubleday, 2007
ISBN-10:0385523416 or ISBN-13:9780385523417
- Gundry, Robert A Survey of the New Testament, 4th Edition, Grand Rapids, Zondervan, 2003. ISBN 0-310-23825-0
- Pope Benedict XVI Jesus, The Apostles, and the Early Church, Ignatius Press, 2007
ISBN-10:1586172204 or ISBN-13:978-1586172206
- Staniforth, Maxwell (translator), Andrew Louth (author), Early Christian Writings: The Apolstolic Fathers, Revised edition, Harmondsworth: Penguin Classics paperback, 1987.
ISBN10:0-14044750 or ISBN-13:978-0-140-44475-9
I have my registration paperwork and I'm registering for 2nd semester. I think I'm $300 or so ahead from the loan I took out in August, and I do think I'll be maintaining at least a "B" average from my first semester, which enables me to keep my merit scholarship. But the rest...I still have to pay for the rest of the semester and the books.
I recongize some of the book titles, but don't have any of them. I will be applying for another loan for this semester, and can only assume they will approve me as my credit remains good; and the total will continue to be deferred for the next 3 years. The unfortunate part of graduate school loans is that they are not subsidized; the interest will continue to build.
I'm willing to accept that, both because I love God and feel called to further education, and because all money belongs to Him. If God does not want me to continue, His Will will become clear. In the meantime, all I can do is continue to work at this.
God's will be done.
***** Catholic Theological Tradition *************
- Richardson, Cyril, ed Early Christian Fathers, TAN books,
ISBN-10: 0684829517 or (pbk) 13 - 978-0684829517
- Belloc, Hilaire, The Great Heresies ISBN-10:0895554755, ISBN 13: 978-0895554758
- Chesterton, G.K., St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Francis of Assisi Introduction by Ralph McInerny and Joseph Pearce, Ignatius Press, ISBN-10:0898709458 or ISBN 13:978-898709452
- Neuner, Josef, S.J. and Jacques Dupuis, S.J., eds. The Christian Faith: Doctrinal Documents of the Catholic Church, 7th Edition, New York: Alba House, 2001.
ISBN-10:0819908939 or ISBN-13:978-0818908934 (hrdcover)
- Bedouelle, Guy, The History of the Church (Handbooks of Catholic Theology Series) London/New York: Continuum, 2003
ISBN-10:0826414818 or ISBN-13:978-0826414816
******* Fundamental Theology ******************
- Kreeft, Peter and Ronald K. Tacelli, Handbook of Christian Apologetics, Downer's Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1004.
ISBN-1-0830817743 or ISBN-13:978-0830817740 (pbk)
- Sheed, Frank, Theology and Sanity, San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1993 (Original 1947) ISBN-10:0385508190 or ISBN-13:978-0898704709 (pbk)
- Lewis, C.S. Mere Christianity, Harper SanFrancisco, 2001
ISBN-10:0060652926 or ISBN-13: 978-0060652920
**************New Testament I ***********************
- Dauphiniais, M. and M. Levering, Holy People, Holy Land: A theological Introduction to the Bible, Grand Rapids, Brazon Press, 2005
ISBN: 1-58743-123-8
- Carson, D.A. and D.J. Moo, An Introduction to the New Testament, Second Edition. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2005.
ISBN-10:0-310-23859-5 or ISBN -13:978-0-31023859-1
- Ratzinger, Joseph, Pope Benedict XVI, Jesus of Nazareth. New York:Doubleday, 2007
ISBN-10:0385523416 or ISBN-13:9780385523417
- Gundry, Robert A Survey of the New Testament, 4th Edition, Grand Rapids, Zondervan, 2003. ISBN 0-310-23825-0
- Pope Benedict XVI Jesus, The Apostles, and the Early Church, Ignatius Press, 2007
ISBN-10:1586172204 or ISBN-13:978-1586172206
- Staniforth, Maxwell (translator), Andrew Louth (author), Early Christian Writings: The Apolstolic Fathers, Revised edition, Harmondsworth: Penguin Classics paperback, 1987.
ISBN10:0-14044750 or ISBN-13:978-0-140-44475-9
I have my registration paperwork and I'm registering for 2nd semester. I think I'm $300 or so ahead from the loan I took out in August, and I do think I'll be maintaining at least a "B" average from my first semester, which enables me to keep my merit scholarship. But the rest...I still have to pay for the rest of the semester and the books.
I recongize some of the book titles, but don't have any of them. I will be applying for another loan for this semester, and can only assume they will approve me as my credit remains good; and the total will continue to be deferred for the next 3 years. The unfortunate part of graduate school loans is that they are not subsidized; the interest will continue to build.
I'm willing to accept that, both because I love God and feel called to further education, and because all money belongs to Him. If God does not want me to continue, His Will will become clear. In the meantime, all I can do is continue to work at this.
God's will be done.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Defending the Truth
I know a few posts ago I was upset by all the snark in the blogosphere, but I still admit that at times it's necessary to step up and defend the Truth, even if doing so seems snarky. So beware...this is going to be a snarky post, and one that I'm certain will land me a greater sentence in Purgatory. Please pray for my soul.
Here's the deal; I read today the content of a homily posted by a local priest. I will not name him or his parish, but will only provide the link to the source and you can follow the links from there.
Apparently this homily came from an audio file, and this is a snippet of the information for your reading displeasure:
By way of explanation, the gospel being used was obviously the pharisee and the publican. The "version" is one of several "versions" this priest chose to write for his homily, all of which miss the point of the gospel message.
I find it necessary, therefore, to defend our coadjutor bishop, Archbishop Nienstedt, which is pretty sad considering I'm defending him from one of his own local priests.
Firstly, the good Bishop simply stated Church teaching, in this article. His teaching was in response to an attack by local homosexual activists whose desire is that the teachings of the Catholic Church change to meet their basest desires of the flesh. You know the story because it plays out daily somewhere.
For those who don't care to click on the link, the information in the article by the Archbishop simply provided an explanation as to why a local father and daughter were not allowed to use a local parish as a venue to promote the gay lifestyle via a talk on a book she (a lesbian) wrote. Archbishop Niensteadt did not condemn anyone, but stated very coherently what the Church's stand is with regard to these types of behaviors, as well as the need for those in mortal sin to receive absolution before approaching the Sacraments. There is nothing new in what he stated, and in fact, he provided information for Courage and Encourage, an apostolate to those suffering from Same Sex Attraction and seeking to live lives of chastity and obedience to God.
He did not state in any way in his article that he was not a sinner. The Archbishop did not uphold himself as some sort of perfect being. Rather, he did his job in that he, speaking as our Shepherd, guides us all to a full understanding with regard to Catholic teaching in the Divine order of morality. Job well done!
And so I offer that the priest's homily was not only morally dishonest, but was directly miseading with regard to Jesus' own words and intention, was intellectually dishonest as it misrepresents the words of scripture, and so the priests' own words actually reveal the depth of his own ignorance of God.
Do not condemn the priest; although he has chosen to be a tool, God has intended him for something much greater, and at his hands, the bread and wine are indeed changed into the Body and Blood of Christ. For that reason, we must remember that God has set him apart for such an awesome task. So we must remember this and PRAY for this priest; that he work according to God's will and not his own, that he remember the vows from his ordination, and that he remember that as a servant of God he is obliged to preach the Truth according to God...not according to the beliefs of popular culture. And we must pray that God have mercy upon him for he has clearly been conversing with the Serpent and has been swayed to act against God's love for him.
One day, we will all face judgment for what we have done or said, and those of us in teaching positions will be held far more responsible than others, for those who teach and speak have the ability to do far more damage to vulnerable souls.
May God bless Archbishop Niensteadt, and the priest who has thumbed his nose at God. Both are in need of God's grace.
Here's the deal; I read today the content of a homily posted by a local priest. I will not name him or his parish, but will only provide the link to the source and you can follow the links from there.
Apparently this homily came from an audio file, and this is a snippet of the information for your reading displeasure:
Version 3:
Two people came into Church to pray, one was a Catholic Archbishop who refuses communion to Rainbow Sash people at the Cathedral on Pentecost Sunday who prayed ” I give you thanks oh God that I am not like others – greedy, dishonest or like others who need to make their dissent from official Church teaching so public and divisive.”
The other were Rainbow parents of GLBT people at the Cathedral on Pentecost who stood off on the side and prayed, “Oh God be merciful to us for failing to attend our own Churches more often; they say they love God then turn there backs on us in hate directly contrary to 1:John,4 – whoever loves God must also love the neighbor.” Jesus concluded the last ones went home more worthy in God’s sight than the first.
By way of explanation, the gospel being used was obviously the pharisee and the publican. The "version" is one of several "versions" this priest chose to write for his homily, all of which miss the point of the gospel message.
I find it necessary, therefore, to defend our coadjutor bishop, Archbishop Nienstedt, which is pretty sad considering I'm defending him from one of his own local priests.
Firstly, the good Bishop simply stated Church teaching, in this article. His teaching was in response to an attack by local homosexual activists whose desire is that the teachings of the Catholic Church change to meet their basest desires of the flesh. You know the story because it plays out daily somewhere.
For those who don't care to click on the link, the information in the article by the Archbishop simply provided an explanation as to why a local father and daughter were not allowed to use a local parish as a venue to promote the gay lifestyle via a talk on a book she (a lesbian) wrote. Archbishop Niensteadt did not condemn anyone, but stated very coherently what the Church's stand is with regard to these types of behaviors, as well as the need for those in mortal sin to receive absolution before approaching the Sacraments. There is nothing new in what he stated, and in fact, he provided information for Courage and Encourage, an apostolate to those suffering from Same Sex Attraction and seeking to live lives of chastity and obedience to God.
He did not state in any way in his article that he was not a sinner. The Archbishop did not uphold himself as some sort of perfect being. Rather, he did his job in that he, speaking as our Shepherd, guides us all to a full understanding with regard to Catholic teaching in the Divine order of morality. Job well done!
And so I offer that the priest's homily was not only morally dishonest, but was directly miseading with regard to Jesus' own words and intention, was intellectually dishonest as it misrepresents the words of scripture, and so the priests' own words actually reveal the depth of his own ignorance of God.
Do not condemn the priest; although he has chosen to be a tool, God has intended him for something much greater, and at his hands, the bread and wine are indeed changed into the Body and Blood of Christ. For that reason, we must remember that God has set him apart for such an awesome task. So we must remember this and PRAY for this priest; that he work according to God's will and not his own, that he remember the vows from his ordination, and that he remember that as a servant of God he is obliged to preach the Truth according to God...not according to the beliefs of popular culture. And we must pray that God have mercy upon him for he has clearly been conversing with the Serpent and has been swayed to act against God's love for him.
One day, we will all face judgment for what we have done or said, and those of us in teaching positions will be held far more responsible than others, for those who teach and speak have the ability to do far more damage to vulnerable souls.
May God bless Archbishop Niensteadt, and the priest who has thumbed his nose at God. Both are in need of God's grace.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Thanksgiving Mishaps!
This time of year, given all the time with family, all the people, all the cooks, all the guests, and all the little "extras" that accompany celebrations, create a serious recipe for disaster. And so it is that often the most memorable holidays involve not the good times, but the comedy of errors that tends to start conversations.
And so, I thought that as we all sit back from the computers with our extra pounds, we might as well laugh and burn some of it off. Please post your disasters, and here are some of mine:
1. When I was a little girl, of course I was not allowed to play with matches, and I didn't want to. Nor was my brother allowed. But, during Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter, when we got the china out accompanied by the candles, well, we were allowed a very special honor; lighting the candles. I remember watching my brother complete this honor for a couple years, and finally, it was my turn, and I took my responsibility very seriously! Matches were no toy!
So I leaned over the table and lit the first candle, then carefully moved the lit match to the second candle, and lit it just before the match burned down to my fingertips.
And that's when I realized that sulpher wasn't the only smell in the air...for in lighting the second candle, I'd leaned over the first...and lit my hair! Yes, I was fine, but it could have been worse...
2. When I was in sixth grade, we spent Thanksgiving in Michigan with Dad and our Grandparents. While we were there, the upper midwest was hit with a HUGE snowstorm. So my brother and I spent the weekend of Thanksgiving shoveling just to try to keep up. Because the storm didn't end until sometime on Sunday. Thus, we weren't able to head back home until we were shoveled out. So my brother and I didn't make it back to school until Tuesday or Wednesday that year. Grandma and Grandpa were really happy to have a clear driveway and sidewalks, though.
3. A few years ago, I brought my boyfriend home for Christmas. (The one I thought I would marry. Thankful now that didn't happen.) At the time, I was working for the Fire Dept., was through training although on light duty. My boyfriend, who had gotten me into that particular mess, was a firefighter as well.
That day, my brother made what was destined to become his specialty; Green Bean casserole. Well, while it was ready to go, he'd forgotten to put it in the oven on time, so even though the Turkey and everything else was done, the hot dish was still cooking. That's when he got the bright idea to turn up the oven...to BROIL. You know where I'm going with this...
Yup. That's what happened. As my boyfriend and I sat at the kitchen table sipping wine and chatting with my brother and Mom, my brother went to check on the hotdish.
He stood up quickly, eyes wide, clearly startled.
"We have a fire."
My boyfriend and I looked over at him, and even from where we were, we could see that my brother was serving his veggies flambe'. There was only ONE thing to do, and we both swung into action.
"Close the oven door." We intoned. "Turn off the oven."
Then we went back to sipping our wine.
My brother did as directed. He opened the door, and stood up again.
"It's still burning."
"Close the door." We sipped wine again. "Turn on the fan. Open the windows." Sip wine again.
Well, the casserole was ruined, but all was well.
3. Last year, I invited a friend to my Mom's house with me. When we arrived, I stepped in, hugged Mom, hugged my brother, and turned to introduce my friend.
The door was swinging shut...my friend was in the hallyway! I yelled my brother's name, glaring at him accusingly and quickly opened the door. There stood my friend, smiling as I profusely apologized. He forgave all immediately, no offense. My brother had heard that I was bringing a friend, but apparently hadn't seen him there so assumed he hadn't come along...so let the door close. He was terribly embarassed.
And my friend, God bless him, was completely unconcerned by the door slamming in his face.
Great, guys...I invite a friend and you close the door on him.....
Don't you all just LOVE family gatherings?
And so, I thought that as we all sit back from the computers with our extra pounds, we might as well laugh and burn some of it off. Please post your disasters, and here are some of mine:
1. When I was a little girl, of course I was not allowed to play with matches, and I didn't want to. Nor was my brother allowed. But, during Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter, when we got the china out accompanied by the candles, well, we were allowed a very special honor; lighting the candles. I remember watching my brother complete this honor for a couple years, and finally, it was my turn, and I took my responsibility very seriously! Matches were no toy!
So I leaned over the table and lit the first candle, then carefully moved the lit match to the second candle, and lit it just before the match burned down to my fingertips.
And that's when I realized that sulpher wasn't the only smell in the air...for in lighting the second candle, I'd leaned over the first...and lit my hair! Yes, I was fine, but it could have been worse...
2. When I was in sixth grade, we spent Thanksgiving in Michigan with Dad and our Grandparents. While we were there, the upper midwest was hit with a HUGE snowstorm. So my brother and I spent the weekend of Thanksgiving shoveling just to try to keep up. Because the storm didn't end until sometime on Sunday. Thus, we weren't able to head back home until we were shoveled out. So my brother and I didn't make it back to school until Tuesday or Wednesday that year. Grandma and Grandpa were really happy to have a clear driveway and sidewalks, though.
3. A few years ago, I brought my boyfriend home for Christmas. (The one I thought I would marry. Thankful now that didn't happen.) At the time, I was working for the Fire Dept., was through training although on light duty. My boyfriend, who had gotten me into that particular mess, was a firefighter as well.
That day, my brother made what was destined to become his specialty; Green Bean casserole. Well, while it was ready to go, he'd forgotten to put it in the oven on time, so even though the Turkey and everything else was done, the hot dish was still cooking. That's when he got the bright idea to turn up the oven...to BROIL. You know where I'm going with this...
Yup. That's what happened. As my boyfriend and I sat at the kitchen table sipping wine and chatting with my brother and Mom, my brother went to check on the hotdish.
He stood up quickly, eyes wide, clearly startled.
"We have a fire."
My boyfriend and I looked over at him, and even from where we were, we could see that my brother was serving his veggies flambe'. There was only ONE thing to do, and we both swung into action.
"Close the oven door." We intoned. "Turn off the oven."
Then we went back to sipping our wine.
My brother did as directed. He opened the door, and stood up again.
"It's still burning."
"Close the door." We sipped wine again. "Turn on the fan. Open the windows." Sip wine again.
Well, the casserole was ruined, but all was well.
3. Last year, I invited a friend to my Mom's house with me. When we arrived, I stepped in, hugged Mom, hugged my brother, and turned to introduce my friend.
The door was swinging shut...my friend was in the hallyway! I yelled my brother's name, glaring at him accusingly and quickly opened the door. There stood my friend, smiling as I profusely apologized. He forgave all immediately, no offense. My brother had heard that I was bringing a friend, but apparently hadn't seen him there so assumed he hadn't come along...so let the door close. He was terribly embarassed.
And my friend, God bless him, was completely unconcerned by the door slamming in his face.
Great, guys...I invite a friend and you close the door on him.....
Don't you all just LOVE family gatherings?
Friday, November 23, 2007
Black Friday
Never mind the shopping. Just give me some coffee!
Yesterday my dog and I drove down to my brother's house. (I drove...the dog was in the back seat sampling the air quality and staring down other drivers). We arrived to a house scented with turkey and stuffing...mmmmm.
Of course, we were shooting for a 2 pm meal but didn't eat until after 3, and as I arrove at noon or so, that meant the snacking on cheese and veggies and the like, with the abundantly flowing wine. Mmmmmm.....
Dinner consisted of Turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, my brother's specialty; green bean hotdish. (or casserole, if you prefer). And some other things.
We watched a few movies. The first was Eragon, which, by the way, I really enjoyed. And then in the evening, we watched Bridge to Terabithia, which never fails to make me cry. No exception last night.
Our last cinematic hours were passed in watching "Harrison Bergeron". Great movie, and even a bit chilling.
And thankfully, my dog has been quite good this weekend, no problems, no garbage robbing, and this is in part due to my brother finally figuring out that German Shepherds can get into anything, and they will, if given the opportunity.
So this morning I took her on a nice long walk (cold!), which helped to work off the overabundance from yesterday, and since I didn't know how to make coffee in my brother's coffeemaker, I tried to study. And that's when I realized it's not possible to study without a dose of caffeine. May need to give up on my reading for now. * sigh *
Anyway, we're about to start "Charlotte's Web", so I must move away from the computer. And if the caffein that just entered my system kicks in, I might be able to pick up my books and do some reading while the movie plays. It's going to be a crazy few weeks before the next class, and I've got two major assignments due! Already panicking!
But it's a lazy Friday for us, and later I will drive home and get on with the business of things that need to be done on the weekends, things that I haven't gotten done since the last time I had a weekend...a few weeks ago. Life is hard. And let's face it...while I'm here with my family I can't study effectively...too much going on.
Being in school is hard. But at Christmas, there won't be any homework so maybe I'll be able to relax a little more.
What a weird post this has been.
Yesterday my dog and I drove down to my brother's house. (I drove...the dog was in the back seat sampling the air quality and staring down other drivers). We arrived to a house scented with turkey and stuffing...mmmmm.
Of course, we were shooting for a 2 pm meal but didn't eat until after 3, and as I arrove at noon or so, that meant the snacking on cheese and veggies and the like, with the abundantly flowing wine. Mmmmmm.....
Dinner consisted of Turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, my brother's specialty; green bean hotdish. (or casserole, if you prefer). And some other things.
We watched a few movies. The first was Eragon, which, by the way, I really enjoyed. And then in the evening, we watched Bridge to Terabithia, which never fails to make me cry. No exception last night.
Our last cinematic hours were passed in watching "Harrison Bergeron". Great movie, and even a bit chilling.
And thankfully, my dog has been quite good this weekend, no problems, no garbage robbing, and this is in part due to my brother finally figuring out that German Shepherds can get into anything, and they will, if given the opportunity.
So this morning I took her on a nice long walk (cold!), which helped to work off the overabundance from yesterday, and since I didn't know how to make coffee in my brother's coffeemaker, I tried to study. And that's when I realized it's not possible to study without a dose of caffeine. May need to give up on my reading for now. * sigh *
Anyway, we're about to start "Charlotte's Web", so I must move away from the computer. And if the caffein that just entered my system kicks in, I might be able to pick up my books and do some reading while the movie plays. It's going to be a crazy few weeks before the next class, and I've got two major assignments due! Already panicking!
But it's a lazy Friday for us, and later I will drive home and get on with the business of things that need to be done on the weekends, things that I haven't gotten done since the last time I had a weekend...a few weeks ago. Life is hard. And let's face it...while I'm here with my family I can't study effectively...too much going on.
Being in school is hard. But at Christmas, there won't be any homework so maybe I'll be able to relax a little more.
What a weird post this has been.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Five Grains of Corn
Many years ago, a ship set off from Europe, seeking greener pastures, a land of promise. They landed off course in winter, but decided to remain and eke out their new existance, and indeed, there the people settled. Their code was basic; the Lord is your God, and those who do not work shalt not eat.
That winter, food was rationed, and these completely unprepared people were also completely unequipped to battle for survival. Were it not for the intervention of the Native peoples, they all would have perished. During their worst days, all they had to eat, PER DAY, was 5 kernels of corn. Many died that winter.
And yet, they still had to continue working for survival, even under those rations:
FIVE. KERNELS. OF. CORN.
Some of them survived, and their new friends taught them how to plant corn, and how to survive in this new land. When they had their first bountiful harvest, they celebrated. And it was not for only one day. NO! They celebrated as in Biblcal times...for a week! But they remembered their previous winter, and so to begin, they were each rationed 5 grains of corn, as a reminder. It was a solomn moment. There they were, before a repast fit for Kings and their Courts, and yet, in humility, they remembered their moments of the most abject poverty. They remembered the lives lost, the terrible journey, and the friendship and hard work that enabled their survival.
They knew they owed their very lives to God. And only 5 grains of corn was enough to remind them of their humble positions before their Maker.
1 Be careful to follow every command I am giving you today, so that you may live and increase and may enter and possess the land that the LORD promised on oath to your forefathers. 2 Remember how the LORD your God led you all the way in the desert these forty years, to humble you and to test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. 3 He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD. 4 Your clothes did not wear out and your feet did not swell during these forty years. 5 Know then in your heart that as a man disciplines his son, so the LORD your God disciplines you.
6 Observe the commands of the LORD your God, walking in his ways and revering him. 7 For the LORD your God is bringing you into a good land—a land with streams and pools of water, with springs flowing in the valleys and hills; 8 a land with wheat and barley, vines and fig trees, pomegranates, olive oil and honey; 9 a land where bread will not be scarce and you will lack nothing; a land where the rocks are iron and you can dig copper out of the hills.
10 When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the LORD your God for the good land he has given you. 11 Be careful that you do not forget the LORD your God, failing to observe his commands, his laws and his decrees that I am giving you this day. 12 Otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, 13 and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, 14 then your heart will become proud and you will forget the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. 15 He led you through the vast and dreadful desert, that thirsty and waterless land, with its venomous snakes and scorpions. He brought you water out of hard rock. 16 He gave you manna to eat in the desert, something your fathers had never known, to humble and to test you so that in the end it might go well with you. 17 You may say to yourself, "My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me." 18 But remember the LORD your God, for it is he who gives you the ability to produce wealth, and so confirms his covenant, which he swore to your forefathers, as it is today.
19 If you ever forget the LORD your God and follow other gods and worship and bow down to them, I testify against you today that you will surely be destroyed. 20 Like the nations the LORD destroyed before you, so you will be destroyed for not obeying the LORD your God.
DO NOT take the Lord's mercy for granted. Do not make your "Thanksgiving" a moment of self-praise about what YOU have accomplished and built. Remember that the Lord, your God has given you EVERYTHING that you have, to the very air in your lungs. As you sit around the table before a sumptious repast, remember our forefathers and what they suffered, remember your own moments, if you had them, of absolute poverty, and remember that all you now have is a gift. Invite God into your celebration, and if it so helps, as you offer your Thanksgiving prayers and blessings, set before you 5 grains of corn. And Remember whom you serve, and who it is who holds you in existance...and Praise Him.
May you all have a blessed and abundant Thanksgiving, may you all offer what you have and all that you are to the Lord, and may God bless you even more abundantly in the coming year.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
** The above story is a summary of part of a lecture from this last weekend of class, and the scripture reading was provided as a link to the recognition of God's blessings and consequences of disobedience. Thanksgiving will never be the same for me again. I hope to pass that same blessing on to you. Remember your roots and your own suffering and that of those you love...and be Thankful to God for what you have now.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Operatio sequitur esse
Just making a few observations from a lot of liturgispeak which has taken over the Church in past decades...
For example, the reference to the altar and the Consecration of the Wine and Bread into the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ, making Him Sacramentally and Substantially and Truly Present, is often referred to as the "Eucharistic Sacrifice". Which is fine, but too often the word "Sacrifice" is dropped in favor of "Table".
The altar is NOT a "table". We are not going to a picnic. We are not enjoying some weird ritualized Thanksgiving Dinner with a side of cranberries. It is COMPLETELY improper to refer to the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass as the "Eucharistic Table". To do so completely denies what is actually taking place.
Go thee and read the Old Testament, for the Catholic faith is the fulfillment of the Jewish religion. In the Old Testament, pay special attention to things like sin, atonement, and sacrifice. Because you will read over and over again how the Priest offers the Sacrifice of Atonement on behalf of the People. And you will see that the sacrifice is a Blood sacrifice, and it is made on an altar, which is raised because that is what allows the blood to drain.
And we know that Jesus was crucified, and his sacrifice was indeed a blood sacrifice, and indeed, his blood certainly did drain and was shed for our ATONEMENT.
The altar is NOT a table, but it is an altar of sacrifice, and when we kneel (as Latin-rite Catholics) during the consecration, we are kneeling before that very altar as the priest offers the sacrifice of Jesus upon the cross for our atonement. There it is again. (And just to be very clear, theologically...we do NOT re-crucify Jesus. This is a heretical idea. Jesus died ONCE for our sins. The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass makes the crucifixion of our Lord present to us in an un-bloody sacrifice).
Why can't we re-crucify Jesus? That's in the Old Testament, too. In Leviticus, as the people suffered in the wilderness of Sinai, God told Moses to strike the rock and water would gush out. Moses did as directed, and the water gushed outward for the people and the animals. In Numbers 20, God directed Moses to TELL the rock to yield water. What did Moses do? He STRUCK the rock. Twice. And this kindled God's anger, and He in turn delivered a judgment of His justice, that Moses would wander the desert for 40 years for his disobedience, and he would not see his people into the promised land. They would enter without him.
Why is this significant? Who is the rock? Jesus. (Yes, Peter is also the rock, but stay with me here because the Petros theology is a totally different subject.)
And we see that the "rock" cannot be struck more than once...in order for the water (grace, Holy Spirit) to flow outward again, only words need to be spoken. Doesn't that sound familiar? Such as...the WORDS of consecration?
So we go back to the Mass. Now, consider this:
When you and a group of people go to address a person of importance, you choose a spokesperson, correct? And so when you go, you all face the same direction, that is, oriented towards your "audience", the person you honor or petetion or both. This is respectful and proper. For if your spokesperson turned his back upon the important person and spoke on your behalf but facing you, wouldn't you be shocked? Wouldn't you feel just awful? Wouldn't you just SQUIRM with embarassment?
So why aren't you squirming with embarassment at Mass? We aren't the "audience" although the current setup seems to make us so. GOD is our audience! Why is the priest facing US?
Keep in mind that the Priest is offering the Sacrifice of the Mass on Our behalf, and his audience is not us...but GOD.
So the next time you or someone you know complains that in the Tridentine Mass the priest's back is toward the people, stop and reconsider our own precarious position in relation to our Creator.
Do you really want to see reform in the Church? Do you want to see an increase in holiness both in the liturgy and the people? Then go to the Source and Summit. Go to what's important, and start there. THEN you will see the conversion of hearts.
Put the tabernacle back front and center on the altar, turn the altar ad orientem, as it was always meant to be. Contrary to popular opinion, Vatican II never decreed that the altar be moved. Doing so was a disasterous innovation that was NOT proscribed.
Operatio sequitur esse...action follows upon being.
People ask where the reverence has gone in the Mass. Vatican II is not at fault. Unfortunately, the Church is made up of human beings who err in judgment, and we are in need of reform in order to bring us into obedience with what the text of Vatican II actually stated. The goals of liturgical changes were unity, holiness, enrichment, conversion, and mission. As a Church, we overshot our goals and took the focus from Jesus and placed it on ourselves. Where is the reverence? It's still there...but if we would take the time to properly order the sanctuary, we might find our spiritual lives properly ordered as well.
Just my humble suggestion, and I'm not the first to state such a thing. I love the Mass, I have no problem with the Novus Ordo, which is fine, because it's all I know. But indeed, there are problems, and indeed, they need to be addressed. So, to those powers that be, can we PLEASE get on with the proper reforms?
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Thy. Will. Be. Done.
Words of great impact. But have you ever really considered them?
People often finish their prayers, "In Jesus' Name...Amen."
But do they know what THAT means? Scripture cites praying in the name of Jesus, "For whatever you ask me in My name shall be given to you." Scripture cites "faith the size of a mustard seed." So why do prayers seem to go unanswered?
The first thing to understand that prayer is a conversation with God, a dialogue...not a shopping list of demands, which, if made with Jesus' name tacked on, makes the demands magically fall into place. Jesus' name is not a mantra, it's not magic, and if you're praying in His name, you'd better know what you're asking!
Names are important; they have meaning, and we only need to look to scripture itself for this reality. In Genesis, Abram became "Abraham", and in the New Testament, Jesus changed Simon's name to "Peter" (Petros or Kepha). This is significant. Names indicate a particular calling, a particular destiny, and when God offered His name to His people, He was making himself known to them. When we give our names to another, we are making ourselves accessable in some way.
The name of Jesus is more powerful than any name ever spoken, for it contains everything; it containes our entire Redemption. When we pray in the name of Jesus Christ, we should have in mind his suffering, his humility, his will to obey the Father, and his sacrifice on behalf of we worthless sinners. We don't deserve what Jesus did for us, and so when we pray in His name, we must remember the agony of his suffering and death, and the joy of His resurrection. And we must recall that we are undeserving of our salvation. It is a gift freely given.
Who are any of us to make any request of God, much less a DEMAND? Who are we to cheapen the name of Christ in the form of a magic mantra, thinking that only if we attach his name God will obey US?
There is only one proper disposition with which to approach the Almighty, and that is the disposition of humility. Jesus himself gave us the example in his humility and His own prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane: "If it is possible, let this cup pass from me. But your will, not mine, be done." Humility. Obedience. Agonizing love.
So it is, when we pray in the name of Jesus, we must remember to be humble before God and remember the prayer of Jesus himself. That way, when we pray, we will be open to the will of God and allow the Holy Spirit to intervene and request what we are truly asking, for we do not know how to pray as we ought. When we pray with humility, we must understand that God may not desire that our prayer be answered in ways that we expect, for He only wants our good. To provide an answer contrary to our own good would make God unfaithful to himself and his love; God cannot contradict himself.
This leads to the topic of suffering, a topic I've seen often of late. Many people are asking about suffering. Why do we suffer?
Suffering is an evil, and evil is the privation of a good. Suffering is in the world as a consequence of original sin, although that's not to say that it is a consequence of our own sin. We often suffer innocently, clear of any direct wrongdoing.
What do we do when we suffer? We ask questions. Why are we suffering? Why is there suffering? And at the heart of our questions is our true query: "Why ME? Why is this happening to ME?"
And there is God, waiting for our questions, ready to meet us there and show us the meaning of what ails us.
God allows suffering for our own good, for it is only through suffering that we are purified, only through suffering that we ask questions, and only through suffering that we come face to face with the suffering Christ. By his suffering and death on the cross, God himself in his humanity dignified suffering, just as he dignified the flesh in his coming. And there, he meets our questions with his own example, forcing us to look into his eyes, asking us to unite our own sufferings with his anguish. And it is here that we learn of the meaning of redemption.
God is not so concerned with our suffering, but rather, what we do with it. Do we seek Him? Are we willing to be docile to His will, and recognize a greater good may come out of the evil we experience? For God always intends to bring a good out of evil. Are we willing to cooperate with God's plan of our salvation, even though we don't understand?
So when we pray, we must remember the humility of the suffering servant, we must remember to allow God to speak, and we must be willing to be docile to His love for us. It is only through suffering that we will truly learn to pray.
So thank God for all the suffering in your life, no matter how much it hurts, for there you will truly meet God.
People often finish their prayers, "In Jesus' Name...Amen."
But do they know what THAT means? Scripture cites praying in the name of Jesus, "For whatever you ask me in My name shall be given to you." Scripture cites "faith the size of a mustard seed." So why do prayers seem to go unanswered?
The first thing to understand that prayer is a conversation with God, a dialogue...not a shopping list of demands, which, if made with Jesus' name tacked on, makes the demands magically fall into place. Jesus' name is not a mantra, it's not magic, and if you're praying in His name, you'd better know what you're asking!
Names are important; they have meaning, and we only need to look to scripture itself for this reality. In Genesis, Abram became "Abraham", and in the New Testament, Jesus changed Simon's name to "Peter" (Petros or Kepha). This is significant. Names indicate a particular calling, a particular destiny, and when God offered His name to His people, He was making himself known to them. When we give our names to another, we are making ourselves accessable in some way.
The name of Jesus is more powerful than any name ever spoken, for it contains everything; it containes our entire Redemption. When we pray in the name of Jesus Christ, we should have in mind his suffering, his humility, his will to obey the Father, and his sacrifice on behalf of we worthless sinners. We don't deserve what Jesus did for us, and so when we pray in His name, we must remember the agony of his suffering and death, and the joy of His resurrection. And we must recall that we are undeserving of our salvation. It is a gift freely given.
Who are any of us to make any request of God, much less a DEMAND? Who are we to cheapen the name of Christ in the form of a magic mantra, thinking that only if we attach his name God will obey US?
There is only one proper disposition with which to approach the Almighty, and that is the disposition of humility. Jesus himself gave us the example in his humility and His own prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane: "If it is possible, let this cup pass from me. But your will, not mine, be done." Humility. Obedience. Agonizing love.
So it is, when we pray in the name of Jesus, we must remember to be humble before God and remember the prayer of Jesus himself. That way, when we pray, we will be open to the will of God and allow the Holy Spirit to intervene and request what we are truly asking, for we do not know how to pray as we ought. When we pray with humility, we must understand that God may not desire that our prayer be answered in ways that we expect, for He only wants our good. To provide an answer contrary to our own good would make God unfaithful to himself and his love; God cannot contradict himself.
This leads to the topic of suffering, a topic I've seen often of late. Many people are asking about suffering. Why do we suffer?
Suffering is an evil, and evil is the privation of a good. Suffering is in the world as a consequence of original sin, although that's not to say that it is a consequence of our own sin. We often suffer innocently, clear of any direct wrongdoing.
What do we do when we suffer? We ask questions. Why are we suffering? Why is there suffering? And at the heart of our questions is our true query: "Why ME? Why is this happening to ME?"
And there is God, waiting for our questions, ready to meet us there and show us the meaning of what ails us.
God allows suffering for our own good, for it is only through suffering that we are purified, only through suffering that we ask questions, and only through suffering that we come face to face with the suffering Christ. By his suffering and death on the cross, God himself in his humanity dignified suffering, just as he dignified the flesh in his coming. And there, he meets our questions with his own example, forcing us to look into his eyes, asking us to unite our own sufferings with his anguish. And it is here that we learn of the meaning of redemption.
God is not so concerned with our suffering, but rather, what we do with it. Do we seek Him? Are we willing to be docile to His will, and recognize a greater good may come out of the evil we experience? For God always intends to bring a good out of evil. Are we willing to cooperate with God's plan of our salvation, even though we don't understand?
So when we pray, we must remember the humility of the suffering servant, we must remember to allow God to speak, and we must be willing to be docile to His love for us. It is only through suffering that we will truly learn to pray.
So thank God for all the suffering in your life, no matter how much it hurts, for there you will truly meet God.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Just some thoughts
I don't know if I'm going to continue blogging. Of late, I really haven't been inspired, and perhaps it's the pressure of grad school, perhaps it's all the snarkiness of the internet blogosphere. Of late, it's just been tiresome.
Working in a church has given me some perspective maybe I wouldn't have recieved otherwise. A tour around Catholic bloggers can display the best, certainly, but lately, all I've been seeing is the worst. I know that I'm a faithful Catholic, I know that my friends are, and I know that the parishes I frequent are very holy places, filled with a mix of people from holy to lukewarm to non-practicing.
And I can't sit in front of a non-practicing Catholic one moment, speaking of the mercy of God, and then go read blogs that spout off constantly about how people don't get it, etc. That's right. They DON'T get it. They have NO IDEA. And blogging isn't going to reach them...especially since they aren't looking. And if they do happen to take a peek, they're going to get the impression that Catholics online are representative of everyone...and I'm not sure that they're going to get the best impression. Or find their faith.
I'm guilty myself...I've my own share of snarky posts. Check my archives, especially the early ones. Guilty, guilty, guilty.
I'm tired. I'm tired of hearing about liturgical abuses, especially exaggerated. We all know it exists...somehow, it makes it worse to talk about it in such forums, and somehow, it makes it seem worse than it is. Thank God, I don't see these abuses anymore, and if I did, I wouldn't frequent those parishes anymore...unless there was some spiritual benefit. (God calls us all to certain circumstances to suffer with Him).
Of late, I've wondered why I have continued this blog. Because I feel like I have to? Becaus I have regular readers? When did this become about me? It's supposed to be about Jesus. It's supposed to be about God. But no...it's all about me. That has to end.
Perhaps I'll continue the blog, perhaps I won't, perhaps it'll just be sporadic posting. In any case, for now, grad school is my primary concern. At least until the semester ends.
Yeah, I'm a writer, therefore I MUST write, and so there are likely to be posts. But the tenor of the posts may change, maybe they already have. I don't know.
All I know is that the places I used to like to visit, I visit no longer because I'm too tired of the snark. It exhausts me. Sometimes it's best to look at evil, recognize it, and then move on. Because calling attention to it makes it fester, it makes it rise, and it perpetuates the problem rather than fixing it.
And because I'm my own festering ball of sin, who am I to point the evil stuff out? And how can I best live out a holy life and really be holy if I'm focusing on what I'm NOT doing...doesn't that make me a Pharisee?
Look how awesome I am, because I'm not liturically dancing, I'm not high-fiving during the sign of peace, I'm praying a whole bunch and I want you all to know all about it!
It seems like too much of this happens in the blogosphere. And no, I'm not picking on anyone, just making general observations. And I'm completely guilty.
So I challenge you...if you are a Catholic blogger, evaluate your blog. We are all called to the perfection of charity; does your work exemplify this? Is your motive love, or is it snark? What's your overall tone? Do you speak of things spiritual, or are you mainly critical? Are you pointing the way to Christ...or just pointing at the snake in the corner telling people to take a GOOD LOOK because you represent Christ, but isn't this thing AWFUL?
So maybe this is burnout. Or maybe I just need to go to Confession. Or quit for awhile. Or just get through the weekend, take a day off, and get some perspective.
In any case, God bless, and remember, if you don't point to Christ...who will?
Working in a church has given me some perspective maybe I wouldn't have recieved otherwise. A tour around Catholic bloggers can display the best, certainly, but lately, all I've been seeing is the worst. I know that I'm a faithful Catholic, I know that my friends are, and I know that the parishes I frequent are very holy places, filled with a mix of people from holy to lukewarm to non-practicing.
And I can't sit in front of a non-practicing Catholic one moment, speaking of the mercy of God, and then go read blogs that spout off constantly about how people don't get it, etc. That's right. They DON'T get it. They have NO IDEA. And blogging isn't going to reach them...especially since they aren't looking. And if they do happen to take a peek, they're going to get the impression that Catholics online are representative of everyone...and I'm not sure that they're going to get the best impression. Or find their faith.
I'm guilty myself...I've my own share of snarky posts. Check my archives, especially the early ones. Guilty, guilty, guilty.
I'm tired. I'm tired of hearing about liturgical abuses, especially exaggerated. We all know it exists...somehow, it makes it worse to talk about it in such forums, and somehow, it makes it seem worse than it is. Thank God, I don't see these abuses anymore, and if I did, I wouldn't frequent those parishes anymore...unless there was some spiritual benefit. (God calls us all to certain circumstances to suffer with Him).
Of late, I've wondered why I have continued this blog. Because I feel like I have to? Becaus I have regular readers? When did this become about me? It's supposed to be about Jesus. It's supposed to be about God. But no...it's all about me. That has to end.
Perhaps I'll continue the blog, perhaps I won't, perhaps it'll just be sporadic posting. In any case, for now, grad school is my primary concern. At least until the semester ends.
Yeah, I'm a writer, therefore I MUST write, and so there are likely to be posts. But the tenor of the posts may change, maybe they already have. I don't know.
All I know is that the places I used to like to visit, I visit no longer because I'm too tired of the snark. It exhausts me. Sometimes it's best to look at evil, recognize it, and then move on. Because calling attention to it makes it fester, it makes it rise, and it perpetuates the problem rather than fixing it.
And because I'm my own festering ball of sin, who am I to point the evil stuff out? And how can I best live out a holy life and really be holy if I'm focusing on what I'm NOT doing...doesn't that make me a Pharisee?
Look how awesome I am, because I'm not liturically dancing, I'm not high-fiving during the sign of peace, I'm praying a whole bunch and I want you all to know all about it!
It seems like too much of this happens in the blogosphere. And no, I'm not picking on anyone, just making general observations. And I'm completely guilty.
So I challenge you...if you are a Catholic blogger, evaluate your blog. We are all called to the perfection of charity; does your work exemplify this? Is your motive love, or is it snark? What's your overall tone? Do you speak of things spiritual, or are you mainly critical? Are you pointing the way to Christ...or just pointing at the snake in the corner telling people to take a GOOD LOOK because you represent Christ, but isn't this thing AWFUL?
So maybe this is burnout. Or maybe I just need to go to Confession. Or quit for awhile. Or just get through the weekend, take a day off, and get some perspective.
In any case, God bless, and remember, if you don't point to Christ...who will?
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