tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51612207787119604862024-03-13T09:11:42.533-07:00SpiritMattersReflections on faith in the modern world.Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-17013204983813998392012-01-06T13:28:00.000-08:002012-01-06T13:31:46.425-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly January 2012<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqY0RBQ21l9ZwVDvB63uWb7ZZ0iYjLRvKdtaUM44IZpUwzSzfxWvX_TweaAJ1FxflyeygZiCPKKZUiEEJO7jqGn9_zrmIyNVvfPH6wqifIvGwykD4vFzCNIs8Lg3EHBTbshCNh3RxkBXiJ/s1600/star-of-bethlehem-2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" 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mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><i>Westward leading, still proceeding,</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><i>Guide us to thy perfect light...</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Look at almost any depiction of the Nativity and you are sure to see, shining brightly in the sky over the stable, that famous star of Bethlehem. The star of Bethlehem is usually drawn as a brilliant star with a long tail pointing downwards like a beacon illuminating the place where Christ was born. I think that in the popular imagination we like to think of the star of Bethlehem as an unmistakable and miraculous sign that led the three Magi (or wise men) to the manger, but the reality was likely quite different. The story from the Gospel of Matthew says very little about the sign that led the Magi to Jesus; it doesn’t call it the “brightest and best of stars of the morning,” nor does it call it a “star with royal beauty bright.” All we really know about this star from the story is that it was observed by the Magi and that it led them to Jesus. King Herod missed it. The chief priests and scribes missed it. Most people missed it. The Magi (a name which means astrologer or sorcerer in Greek) noticed the star and followed it, but they were after all, astrologers. We don’t know how many years the Magi had spent looking to the heavens and trying to unlock its mysteries before they were finally led to this one spot. What we do know, or can at least reasonably assume, is that they were looking. These wise men had been looking for the one who would not only be king of the Jews, but their king as well. They came bearing gifts fully expecting that they would find the one which they had been looking for and when it did finally happen we are told that they were overwhelmed with joy. To have an Epiphany is to suddenly find something you had been looking for; it is that moment when you finally see the solution or the answer that had been eluding you. Sometimes the answer we find surprises us with its simplicity or we realize that what we had been looking for was right in front of us all along; either way, it is usually a very joyous moment.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Church celebrates the Feast of the Epiphany on January 6<sup>th</sup>, and in the West we usually celebrate this epiphany of the three wise men as they finally found the newborn king that they had been seeking, but there are other epiphanies that the Church celebrates this day as well: we celebrate the epiphany of John the Baptist as he saw the spirit of God descending upon Jesus in the river Jordan, and we celebrate the epiphany of Jesus’ disciples as they witnessed him perform his first miracle of turning the water into wine. In a few weeks we will celebrate the Feast of the Presentation (or Candlemas), in which we remember the epiphanies of two more individuals: the priest Simeon and the prophetess Anna. Both Simeon and Anna had spent countless years in the temple worshipping God while searching and waiting for the one who would be their messiah and savior, and finally in their old age they were both able to see and recognize the child which they had been seeking. The three wise men, John the Baptist, Simeon and Anna all have one thing in common: they were all actively searching for God when they eventually found him. While we often talk about having an epiphany as if it came more or less out of the blue, but the reality is that it is more often the result of much searching. This isn’t just true of religious epiphanies, but is true for more secular revelations as well. Isaac Newton is famously remembered for developing his theory of gravity after watching an apple fall to the ground, but that answer came to him after many years of pondering the various laws of the universe. It wasn’t momentary brilliance that made Newton so successful (although he was clearly brilliant), it was resilience at continuing to search for answers even when they were hard to find.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The Feast of the Epiphany is a celebration of our quest to find God, to find truth, to find knowledge and to find hope in a world that can at times be incredibly dark. Christmas is about celebrating God being born in this world, but Epiphany is about celebrating when we first found him. Epiphany is about those moments in life when God is real to us, and not just an idea or a hope. The problem with epiphanies though is that we humans sometimes confuse finding one truth with finding all truth, and when we figure one thing out we sometimes begin to think that we have figured all things out. Sometimes we think the epiphany is the end of the journey, when really it is only the beginning. John the Baptist knew that his life was meant to be about searching for God and preparing for his kingdom (and encouraging others to do so as well), but he also recognized that God’s work was more important. It was God’s vision and God’s plan (not his own) that was of primary importance. As the Gospel of John says: “He was not that light, but was sent to bear witness to that light…”</p><p class="MsoNormal"> We might think of an epiphany as the end of a quest for some truth: that moment when we find the answer we were looking for, but usually the key that we find just opens the door to more mystery. I am sure that the three Magi left Bethlehem with as many questions about what was to become of this child as they had answers and we know that Isaac Newton’s discoveries about gravity only drove him to ask more questions about the nature of the universe. The epiphanies that we celebrate today are those moments when God managed to grab our attention. For the Church, we point to those moments early in Christ’s life or ministry where we first began to realize that he was something truly special; for ourselves as individuals, I am sure that most of us can point to a time or place in our own lives when God managed to get our attention and wake us up. In either case we can recognize that the epiphany is just the beginning of the real story. Ultimately it doesn’t matter if the star of Bethlehem was bright and beautiful or tiny and insignificant, because what leads us to God is never as important as what we do once we have found him. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-69386631483584095332011-12-09T12:52:00.000-08:002011-12-09T13:09:59.712-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly December 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEEXbx4V4QNXp-duE6hJCx19isVljz9vnMJHQnl6ycZ92AbKOSl5keNg1dHfQBovGKZKNZOT68ieZelTa_2zxnP6kUlr_TQB0UOJbQ6hugBU7d4k8jKFKw8cd9HfI_x7zhGnUICOJVTTed/s1600/linus.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><br /><a 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unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>The hopes and fears of all the years...</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">If you think that Christmas is just about hope and love and light and happiness then you are setting yourself up for a huge disappointment come December the 25<sup>th</sup>. Despite all the carols played constantly over the radio, this time of year isn’t always the “Hap, Happiest season of all.” Let’s face it, December is probably the most stressful month of the year for most of us: the crowds, the shopping, the traffic, the parties, the Christmas lists, and that’s just if you are lucky. For some, the holiday stressors take on an entirely different dimension: fear, depression, loneliness, anxiety. The darkness of December isn’t always outside our doors; sometimes it’s within us as well. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We all have this cookie-cutter image of what a happy holiday is supposed to look like, but most of us know deep down that our celebrations are rarely, if ever, perfect. Despite so much commentary and complaint about the commercialization of Christmas in recent decades, the reality is that holiday stress is hardly a new thing. If you spend much time watching old Christmas movies over the next few weeks you may notice a theme throughout many of them: anxiety, fear and desperation. Consider the following list of holiday classics:<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A Christmas Carol<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s a Wonderful Life<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Miracle on 34<sup>th</sup> Street<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Bishop’s Wife<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Christmas in Connecticut<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">White Christmas<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A Christmas Story<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>And yes even,</i> National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Each of these classic stories about Christmas includes at least one or more characters that are driven to their absolute limit by the demands that life places upon them this time of year. Even Charlie Brown was overwhelmed by Christmas stress and that was over 50 years ago! Anxiety and fear are not a product of this generation, they are a product of every generation. Things like the media and the economy might make our problems worse, but they certainly don’t create them. We are human; and humans, for whatever reason, get stressed out and depressed this time of year. Maybe it is the weather, maybe it is the darkness, maybe it is something more profound and mysterious, but whatever it is, it is real and we need to be willing to address it and deal with it. Trying to act as if Christmas is merely a happy time, and nothing more, is destructive and dishonest. If we take the time to look closely at our holiday traditions, we just might find that they actually do try to address the great range of emotions we feel this time of year. The next time you are sitting in a church and suffering through a boring sermon (it happens), grab the hymnal in front of you and actually read the text of some of your favorite Christmas carols. You might be surprised to find out that these hymns, which many of us think we know by heart, actually have a lot to say about the darkness and brokenness in our lives. See if you can identify which popular carols these verses come from:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>“Yet with the woes of sin and strife the world has suffered long;<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>beneath the heavenly hymn have rolled two thousand years of wrong;<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>and waring humankind hears not the tidings which they bring;<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>O hush the noise and cease the strife and hear the angels sing!</i>”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>“For he is our life-long pattern; daily when on earth he grew,<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>He was tempted, scorned, rejected,<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Tears and smiles like us he knew.<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Thus he feels for all our sadness, and he shares in all our gladness.”</i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>“Why lies he in such mean estate where ox and ass are feeding?<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Good Christian, fear: for sinners here the silent Word is pleading”</i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>“O Flower, whose fragrance tender with sweetness fills the air,<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Dispel in glorious splendor the darkness everywhere:<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>True man, yet very God, from sin and death now save us, and share our every load.”</i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>“Where children pure and happy pray to the blessed Child,<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Where misery cries out to thee, Son of the mother mild;<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Where charity stands watching and faith holds wide the door,<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>The dark night wakes, the glory breaks, and Christmas comes once more.”</i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">These songs were not written to be sung by children; they were written to be sung by adults who know very well just how painful and dark the world can be. I get very frustrated when I hear people say that Christmas is a holiday about children or for children. It is not. Granted, there is great joy and fun in having little ones around that still have faith in the magic of Santa Claus, but that is just the point: they still have faith, they still believe. It is the adults in the world that need to be reminded of the power of God. We are the ones who need to hear the message of hope; we are the ones who need to be reminded that God’s love can heal our brokenness. Christmas is stressful, and we only need to review the story of the Nativity (cue Linus with his blanket) to be reminded that it always has been. Our holiday celebrations may not compare to those we remember as children, but then again, we aren’t children anymore; we know full well how tough the world can be. We need Christmas in a much different way than our children do: we no longer have visions of sugarplums dancing in our heads. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Of course the holidays can add stress to our lives, but they can also give us the added hope and inspiration that we need to get through that stress and keep going. If we listen to every verse of our Christmas carols, we just might realize that they are about hope AND fear. If we revisit some classic Christmas stories, we just might realize that much of the stress that we feel this time of year isn’t unique to us or to our generation, but is a part of the bigger picture which is Christmas. Of course, we could just do away with the holiday: we could take down the trees and the lights. We could blow out the candles, turn off the carols and cancel the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. We could get rid of everything that is Christmas, but it wouldn’t get rid of the stress in our lives. Christmas can help us to find what light there is in a world that can at times seem very dark. Know that every emotion you feel this time of year (joy or sadness, fear or relief, hope or despair) is a part of the Christmas story. Perhaps Phillips Brooks, an Episcopal Priest in Philadelphia, said it best when he wrote this carol in 1868:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie!<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by;<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting light;<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.</i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>Blessings! </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-33428817975089284262011-11-01T10:57:00.000-07:002011-11-01T11:01:18.104-07:00SpiritMatters Monthly November 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ibf1Wac1vaobyIBjbRzjl-XXZE3nDPzDTrqeqIJVm8b3QGzxWUS1ZstrxXpO22e8YOeLAmVXZuOPAR4JH5-hc5dkFauhouh3x2_DD2yf-YlD9Eco-UNVBLz4aPN2rxKjU7fqf7RiMBTI/s1600/pilgrim-fathers-first-landing.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ibf1Wac1vaobyIBjbRzjl-XXZE3nDPzDTrqeqIJVm8b3QGzxWUS1ZstrxXpO22e8YOeLAmVXZuOPAR4JH5-hc5dkFauhouh3x2_DD2yf-YlD9Eco-UNVBLz4aPN2rxKjU7fqf7RiMBTI/s320/pilgrim-fathers-first-landing.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670088710248050802" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> 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<w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">For what we may be about to receive may the Lord make us truly thankful...</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Have you ever been really scared? I am not talking about the type of fear you have when you are walking through a haunted house or watching a horror movie. I am talking about the kind of fear that comes when you realize that your own death or downfall could be very imminent. If you have ever been really sick or almost in a fatal accident then you might understand the type of fear I am talking about. It is a horrible feeling to suddenly realize your own mortality or frailty. Most of us go through life without much thought of just how fragile human life really is. We may be aware of death, but for most of us it is at best a distant reality, and not something we worry about on a daily basis. With so many advances in agriculture and medicine and public health we have transformed our society from one whose primary concern is survival into one whose primary concern is comfort. Not that I am complaining.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Personally, I love good food, I like nice clothes, my house is warm and cozy and I just finished a round of antibiotics for an upper respiratory infection. I have no desire to live without the blessings of modern society, but I do think that it is important that we recognize those blessings as such. One of the side effects of the fear, which our ancestors used to live with on a daily basis, was thankfulness. Whenever the threat of imminent death passed by, the natural and immediate response was one of thanksgiving for being spared. If you have ever had a near-miss then you probably know the feeling: that sudden realization that your life is not your own and that it was only by a moment of pure grace that you are still alive. Having your life flash before your eyes is a real and horrifying feeling (and incidentally, it’s one of the reasons that I hate driving), but there is something to be said for that momentary recognition of the power of God’s grace that comes as we realize that we are still OK. True thankfulness only occurs when we recognize that we have been saved by a force completely outside ourselves. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">The first Thanksgivings in America were not just harvest celebrations, they were solemn occasions wherein the early settlers truly gave thanks to God for the fact that they were still alive, which was something that they knew they couldn’t take for granted. When you consider that almost half of the English pilgrims that settled in Plymouth Colony died the first winter of malnutrition, disease or exposure, then it makes perfect sense that the survivors would take the time to give thanks for being spared. But the pilgrims at Plymouth were not the first settlers to proclaim a day of thanksgiving: the English settlers in Jamestown and Newfoundland had thanksgivings, as did the French in New France (now Quebec) and the Spanish in Florida. Solemn days of thanksgiving were nothing new to the European settlers that landed in the New World. It was common for communities to set aside days for intentional prayer and thanksgiving whenever they had been delivered from some calamity (like disease or famine).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Not all of these thanksgivings were centered around food either, and in fact during some of them participants were actually asked to fast, NOT feast. What they all had in common was that they recognized the fragility of life and how much we as humans (despite all of our skill and cleverness) actually depend upon God’s grace.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">During the hurricane a few months ago, I remember hearing a few people comment that it was the first time in their lives that they had actually seen empty shelves in the grocery store. That is really astounding if you stand back and think about it: for most of us we never have to think about not having enough food. Most of us spend our lives obsessed with the reality that we have too much food. We might stop to offer a prayer of thanks for our food, but usually not because we were actually worried that it wouldn’t be there. We take food for granted, along with so many other things. Sometimes it takes a crisis (even a minor one) to remind us that many of the things we enjoy in life are blessings and not promises. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Our world has not always had stores of food that never goes bad. Most of human existence has been about communities struggling to survive, and not just fighting over who gets to be the most comfortable. In some parts of the world, famine is still a very real issue and daily survival is something not to be taken for granted. It would be a shame if in our lives the only time we were truly thankful was when we were scared to death. How much better might our lives be if we realized how much we depend upon God’s grace and the help of our neighbors? Wouldn’t it be better if our lives were filled with that sense of relief and joy that comes from true thankfulness and gratitude? <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;">Thanksgiving is not about turkey. It is about realizing that our lives are filled with blessings that we routinely take for granted: family, friends, food, and good health. Decide what you want your life to be filled with: blessings or burdens. The one that you spend the most time focusing on will most likely be the one you get. The great benefit of having a day of thanksgiving scheduled every year is that it reminds us that we don’t need to be scared to death to remember what a blessing life really is.</span><!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-4372327213505250852011-10-14T10:52:00.000-07:002012-01-06T13:22:30.602-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly October 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9tZS1IV0GlvZG-lTW8EnmZs11oBDgIh4SX50efWUDorc8-EyqKFsItz-bK3wOr6lZBk88PA59NPl0MkLppA_jyCz7O8vwOLRw39H3BRMUOPAuZ2Ok1wdw_QdU6yZnnpfeG_b_kaQSHXuj/s1600/images-3.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 194px; height: 259px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9tZS1IV0GlvZG-lTW8EnmZs11oBDgIh4SX50efWUDorc8-EyqKFsItz-bK3wOr6lZBk88PA59NPl0MkLppA_jyCz7O8vwOLRw39H3BRMUOPAuZ2Ok1wdw_QdU6yZnnpfeG_b_kaQSHXuj/s320/images-3.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663408386718665602" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:22.5pt"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">No self-respecting Southerner uses instant grits.”</span></i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:22.5pt"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:22.5pt"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" >Growing up in the South, I have eaten my fair share of grits. They have always been a staple of my diet and even today I find myself reaching for the bag of grits on the shelf when I am looking for a hot comfort food that goes with just about anything. Many Northerners know about the South’s love affair with grits because it was a crucial part of the plot in the popular film “My Cousin Vinny.” Grits are a tradition in the South that European settlers learned from the Native Americans and in ages past many poorer Southerners survived on grits and not much else.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:22.5pt"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:22.5pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;">In the early 1900s, a horrible disease known as Pellagra (which is a niacin deficiency) became epidemic in the South, particularly in the poorer regions. Originally it was thought that Pellagra was caused by some germ or toxin in corn, but that explanation didn’t make much sense given that corn had always been a staple in the Southern diet. Why was this strange disease becoming a problem all of a sudden? Because the traditional method of making grits </span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;">involved soaking corn kernels in lime water (the mineral lime, not the citrus fruit) before grinding them. This simple step makes niacin nutritionally </span>available in corn, and therefore Native Americans and early settlers could <span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;">survive on a diet of corn without many ill side effects. In the early 20<sup>th</sup> century, with the advent of so many new farming and milling methods in the South, the traditional method of preparing corn, including the preparation of grits, was replaced by what was thought to be a more sensible and faster method of just grinding the corn without soaking it. The results were disastrous: by 1916 </span>approximately 100,000 Southerners had developed<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Pellagra and many died for the simple reason that they dispensed with an old tradition that they didn’t understand. The Native Americans didn’t know anything about niacin or specifically why soaking the corn in lime was important, they had just learned (undoubtedly through trial and error) that this was a step that needed to be taken.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;">I am always suspicious whenever any individual or group dismisses tradition lightly. It is a particularly nasty side-effect of so much wonderful innovation: we fall into the habit of thinking that the new way of doing things is always the better way, and it simply </span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;">isn’t. Believe it or not, people have been having good ideas for a very long time. In our desire for creativity and innovation, we often forget the importance of wisdom. Wisdom is knowledge that comes largely from time and experience. If creativity is a spark, then wisdom is a slow-burning ember. We need wisdom because it keeps us from having to learn every one of life’s lessons the hard way. Tradition is one way in which the wisdom of our ancestors is handed down, but we have fallen into the belief that we must </span>understand a tradition in order for it to be of value to us. We did not understand the purpose of washing corn kernels in lime water before milling them, but that doesn’t mean that tradition had no value. By dispensing with the tradition we were forced to learn the hard way just how important it was.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If the Pellagra outbreak in the South can teach us anything, it should be the danger of modern arrogance. Modern arrogance is the idea that we have only really figured the world out in the last 60 years or so and that every idea, every tradition and every </span>practice of previous generations should be regarded with suspicion or condescension. Modern arrogance teaches us that people in the past were superstitious, ignorant and backward and that we, in contrast, are more enlightened and more clever. It just isn’t so. Next time you look at a medieval cathedral remind yourself that this building was built without power tools and calculators. How many of our modern buildings do you think will still be around in 500 or 1000 years? I am all for progress and innovation, but it should be done with humility and respect paid to tradition. We forget that traditions have had to stand the test of time, which is usually a far more severe judge than we could ever be. Give traditional ideas and methods a chance and don’t easily dismiss them. We may not understand everything our ancestors did, but that is probably more a sign of our ignorance than theirs.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-43634429322716290932011-09-01T10:39:00.000-07:002011-10-14T10:51:59.142-07:00SpiritMatters Monthly September 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMyb5K220ZFQvwvq_WO_OXgRY_qchgmBugmYIJZGf9Le_XFKIx2mjSH_HJWabKPX4f5Rn0v_i0QX-T-TBCHIcjEcRbjvR8z2VMwzbDxZAwcZTDCTFWMeXfFB2KNNtWrc_E_ZkxMO35YvLS/s1600/images-2.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 184px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMyb5K220ZFQvwvq_WO_OXgRY_qchgmBugmYIJZGf9Le_XFKIx2mjSH_HJWabKPX4f5Rn0v_i0QX-T-TBCHIcjEcRbjvR8z2VMwzbDxZAwcZTDCTFWMeXfFB2KNNtWrc_E_ZkxMO35YvLS/s320/images-2.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663407063774120258" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:8.0pt;">The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit;<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-size:8.0pt;">A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-size:11.0pt;">In about the year 325AD, the Roman emperor Constantine sent his mother, Helena, to the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15px;">Middle East on a very special mission: she was to find any artifacts that she could that pertained to the life of Jesus of Nazareth and preserve them, as well as any holy sites associated with Jesus and his followers. Helena was to spare no expense to find and preserve whatever remained from the earthly life of Christ. Two of the oldest and most sacred churches in the world owe their existence to Helena: The Church of the Nativity in </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15px;">Bethlehem and the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem. Helena’s most famous discovery by far, was what was reported to be the true cross on which Jesus was crucified. While excavating around the site that local tradition claimed to be the location of Christ’s tomb, Helena found, unceremoniously dumped in the bottom of a ditch, three large wooden crosses. Surely, she thought, one of these must be the cross on which Jesus was crucified. When one woman was miraculously healed by touching one of the crosses, Helena believed that she had discovered the true cross of Jesus and fragments of that piece of wood were distributed throughout the world. The Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem is built over the site where Helena discovered the crosses as well as the two places where tradition states that Jesus was crucified and buried.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-size:11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:11.0pt;">It would be easy for us in the modern world to forget how powerful a symbol the cross once was. It is now so casually used and worn (in varying degrees of tastefulness I might add), that it is entirely possible to overlook the fact that this was an instrument of torture that represented not only the death of Jesus, but the deaths of countless others whom the Romans crucified. Jesus’ followers couldn’t bear to look at a cross after his death and the cross didn’t become the universal symbol of Christianity until much later. It was probably no accident that the actual cross was thrown into a ditch and forgotten for 300 years. It was a symbol of defeat and weakness and pain and it reminded Christ’s followers of a horrific event that they just couldn’t bear to face. But Christ’s followers eventually overcame their aversion to the cross by transforming it into a symbol of life, and not just death. The cross became a reminder of Christ’s life and the eternal life that he promised to his followers and for that reason it became a treasured symbol of Christianity and one of the most recognized symbols in the world.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-size:11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:11.0pt;">In the days immediately following September, 11<sup>th</sup> 2001, it became unbearable for many people to view media coverage of the attacks on the World Trade Center. The pain was still too real. For many of us the pain still is too real. In the Pastoral Care Office is a binder that is left over from the weeks and months following September 11<sup>th</sup>. It is filled with photographs and missing person signs left by family members desperately looking for their loved ones. I have to admit that I find this book almost unbearable to look through, knowing now that these people are no longer missing, just missed. I don’t know any of these people, but I do know that each one of them was loved by someone; each one of them had a family; each one of them had dreams. While many people are mourning for specific loved ones, some of us mourn for people we never knew. There is something pretty amazing about our capacity to connect with complete strangers and maybe one of the things that we learn during a major crisis is how much we really do need one another.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-size:11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-size:11.0pt;">On the morning of September 11<sup>th</sup>, 2001 the terrible, hateful actions of a few individuals got a lot of media coverage. What is less obvious is how many people responded to such hatred with courage and love. How many people ran into burning buildings to try to save complete strangers? How many people offered food or assistance or shelter? How many people worked long hours trying to rescue victims or recover bodies? How many people from around the world sent their condolences? How many stories are there of love, courage and compassion that we will never know? The most amazing thing about September the 11<sup>th</sup>, was that on that day and in the days immediately following, nobody was a stranger. We were all in this together. Maybe that is why so many people feel so profoundly wounded by that morning even though they never actually met any of the victims: by some sort of revelation we realized that we were all family.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-size:12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:11.0pt;">It took a while for the cross to transform from a symbol of death and pain into a symbol of love and hope, but eventually it did happen and now the Church observes Holy Cross Day on </span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:11.0pt;">September 14th. Any church lucky enough to have a fragment of the True Cross typically displays it on that day. Now it is fragments of World Trade Center steel that have been distributed around the world in the form of various memorials, in the hope that they too can bring about healing.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It will take a lot more than 10 years for us to be able to fully appreciate and </span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:11.0pt;">understand the events of September 11<sup>th</sup>, if we ever do, but it will only be possible if we can look beyond the hatred of the few that began that day, and remember the love that was </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15px;">expressed in how we responded.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If you spend too much time hating something you usually </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15px;">condemn yourself into becoming what you despise. It’s just not worth it. Despite the media </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15px;">attention that was given to the hateful acts of the few, it was the loving and courageous acts of the many that actually won the day.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Love may not be as showy or spectacular as hatred, but it is far more enduring and far more powerful. Whether it is on September the 11<sup>th</sup> or September the 14<sup>th</sup> the lesson is essentially the same: love always wins.</span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-26337155952946579362011-08-01T10:34:00.000-07:002012-01-06T13:26:13.780-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly August 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMPd7hJknVUYj9FC8-CryCatMVj4cbSl3UwaWS-lfXvH1TI5G-3mG1QUS9nuED6TGWSzx4yNnuHwFjKYBFNkhOt4PIi6rWd4AfONn8LBDt34xCN0LtowpqTmBhcruB6ju1fP_Zk4Tv2cPT/s1600/images-1.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 168px; height: 232px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMPd7hJknVUYj9FC8-CryCatMVj4cbSl3UwaWS-lfXvH1TI5G-3mG1QUS9nuED6TGWSzx4yNnuHwFjKYBFNkhOt4PIi6rWd4AfONn8LBDt34xCN0LtowpqTmBhcruB6ju1fP_Zk4Tv2cPT/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663403729697945954" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">To love another person is to see the face of God...<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;">In the book of Genesis, God states that: “It is not good for man to be alone.” God </span>neglected, however, to elaborate on just how hard it would be for people to live together. In the biblical story, it didn’t take very long at all for Adam and Eve’s relationship to encounter serious trouble, and THEY were living in the Garden of Eden. It should come as no surprise to us then that relationships continue to be the central struggle of most of our lives. Whether it is with a significant other, a family member, a friend, a co-worker or a stranger on the street, the relationships we have with the other people in our life can be a blessing or a challenge and frequently they can be both at the same time. They are the source of our greatest joy, and of our greatest pain.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" >We all want to be loved. There is something deeply affirming and gratifying about having people in your life that want to be close to you either emotionally or physically. It gives us hope that the universe may not be as cold and lonely as we otherwise might imagine. None of us is perfect. We all have moments when we don’t feel loveable: a bad hair day, a bad mood day, or just a bad day period. We all have things about ourselves that we would like to change. It is important to have people in your life that can see past your flaws even when you can’t. The people in your life that truly love you know about all the skeletons in your closet and don’t care. They are the people who have seen you without your make-up or your game-face. They are the people who know who you truly are and not just the image that you project to the rest of the world. True love can really only happen when you truly know someone. It is amazing how many supposedly serious relationships are based upon false pretenses. The world can be a very difficult place in which to live, and we cannot be vulnerable to everyone all the time, but we all need at least one or two people in our lives to whom we can reveal our truest self.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" >On August 6<sup>th</sup>, many Christian churches observe the Feast of the Transfiguration, which memorializes an event mentioned in the gospels where Jesus takes three of his disciples to the top of a mountain to reveal to them who he truly is. We know from the gospel accounts that Jesus was closer to some of his disciples than he was to others. It was only to Peter, James and John that Jesus felt comfortable revealing his innermost self. Perhaps in that moment of transfiguration, when Jesus revealed his true nature to the three disciples on the mountain, his desire was to be known and loved for who he truly was, and not just for what others wanted him to be. It is a desire that I believe most of us share. There is an iconic image of Christ holding open his chest to reveal his heart. It is meant to convey just how vulnerable God is willing to be in order to be loved by us. To open your heart to someone and reveal your innermost thoughts and feelings is an extreme act of vulnerability, but it is really the only way to be truly loved. If life were simply about survival of the fittest we would probably never allow anyone else to truly know who we are; it would simply be too risky. Luckily life appears to be about more than just survival and we each have the opportunity to be known and loved by others in a way that helps us overcome our own humanity. Perhaps the desire to be loved for who we are and not just for what others want us to be is a trait that humans have in common with God. Maybe that desire to be known and loved is a part of the divine image in which the book of Genesis claims we were created.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;">Who knows you? Who are the people in your life that know all your baggage </span>and don’t care? Who can you be completely and totally honest with? Pay attention to the people in your life that pay attention to you. Hold on to the people that want to know what makes you tick; the people that know your foibles; the people that can anticipate your thoughts and actions. Those are the people that want to know and love you for who you truly are, and aren’t just looking to cast you into a role that they have already written.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;">As the story goes, immediately after Adam and Eve took the bite of that forbidden fruit, their first inclination was to try to cover themselves up and conceal themselves from God. Our reality as humans living in a broken world is that we aren’t able to reveal ourselves completely to every person we come across. Not every relationship in our life is meant to be deep and meaningful, and they aren’t all meant to be life-long. But pay attention when someone opens their heart to you. It is in those knowing and loving relationships that we experience how it feels to see another person with open eyes and a vulnerable heart. It might just be the way that God looks at us.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:7;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-38798649193237802832011-05-01T10:29:00.000-07:002012-01-06T13:27:05.402-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly May 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHTJ40RXtoY-1C0WmOl0FVOiTUVmPZPybdfxsCt0gAhCJsPkEQMGZcx0qFIbsBrC3qyQPVKJ1IwM_QBuUh-GCa0fDkkwrzr4SqMzUJKW63qXYa8a3E1pY9US3xUb5BBtRYVuR4wB2IHgmd/s1600/images-2.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 204px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHTJ40RXtoY-1C0WmOl0FVOiTUVmPZPybdfxsCt0gAhCJsPkEQMGZcx0qFIbsBrC3qyQPVKJ1IwM_QBuUh-GCa0fDkkwrzr4SqMzUJKW63qXYa8a3E1pY9US3xUb5BBtRYVuR4wB2IHgmd/s320/images-2.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663402372541345058" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:85%;"><i>Get up, stand up...<o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-size:85%;" ><o:p><i> </i></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" >Standing is a sign of respect. When I was in primary school my class was taught to stand whenever an adult entered the room. Soldiers are taught to stand at attention in the presence of a superior officer. When a priest enters the church at the beginning of the service the congregation stands; they do the same for the bride at a wedding. Gentlemen used to stand whenever a lady entered the room. In royal protocol, it is customary to stand whenever a king or queen enters the room, or to stand whenever a king or queen stands.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" >If you have ever been to a performance of Handel’s Messiah, then you are likely to have noticed that audiences frequently stand during the <i>Halleluiah </i>Chorus. Why? When Handel’s Messiah was first premiered in London, the performance was attended by King George II. When the choir began to sing the <i>Halleluiah </i>Chorus the king stood up, and because the king was standing everyone else in the audience had to stand as well and thus began a tradition that lasts to this day. But why did King George stand at that precise moment? The answer lies in the text of the chorus itself:<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" >Halleluia: for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth…<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" >King of Kings and Lord of Lords.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;mso-bidi-font-style:italicfont-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" >Because Christ was being hailed as “King of Kings” by the choir, King George stood as a sign of respect to a greater king than himself. George’s very simple gesture sent a very powerful message: even he was subject to a higher power. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;mso-bidi-font-style:italicfont-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" >We often overlook or undervalue just how powerful physical language can be, but it can convey messages much more efficiently than our mouths can. It is trite, but true: actions speak louder than words. Regardless of what we say with our lips, or body language or our gestures will almost always give away our true thoughts or feelings. Countless books have been written to coach people on how to use body language effectively in the workplace and how to be aware of the non-verbal cues that we send others and that they in turn send us. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;mso-bidi-font-style:italicfont-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" >Physical language has just as much power in our faith lives as well. How we behave around holy objects or in our houses of worship says much more about what we actually think about God than what we profess with our lips. It is for this reason that the Church has at times paid close attention to the ritual actions and postures that people have during worship. One of the proclamations made by the First Council of Nicaea in 325AD was that Christians should stand during the service on Sundays and throughout Easter. It was felt that kneeling was too penitential and focused too much upon the sinfulness of the individual worshiper and not enough upon the dignity and respect owed to God. To this day many Christian traditions still stand during the Holy Eucharist.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;mso-bidi-font-style:italic"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Opinions and customs and postures have changed over the years, but the need to ensure that what we say is consistent with what we do has not. Much of what our mother’s taught us in the way of manners were not arbitrary rules of behavior, but guidelines to keep us from unintentionally </span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;mso-bidi-font-style:italic">offending others by not paying attention to our actions or our physical language. Having good manners is not about making yourself feel superior, it is about monitoring your actions in order to make the people around you feel comfortable. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;mso-bidi-font-style: italicfont-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;mso-bidi-font-style: italicfont-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;" >The idea of standing as a sign of respect when a king, queen or someone of superior rank enters the room may seem antiquated to us today. Our society has shown a preference for familiarity over formality in recent decades and many of the symbols of honor and dignity that we once employed have fallen into disuse. The problem is that when our signs and symbols of respect fade away, very frequently the respect does as well. Paying attention to manners and body language and gestures may take a little extra effort, but the respect that it brings to us and gives to others make it worthwhile. Of course it takes more effort to stand during the <i>Halleluiah</i></span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';font-size:100%;"> Chorus rather than just sit there, but then showing respect to others is usually worth the extra effort. King George certainly thought so.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-51824033915325084022011-04-01T10:24:00.000-07:002011-10-14T10:28:58.165-07:00SpiritMatters Monthly April 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZYO-b_7gtVYgDZCt7sFIb2wBuGwm8HR1faxG2oebRO1okb6iL_TETCUwQV5Jw_7uSXraZTcTlVgAPx-rf58qHsQq0NOEe3KTSlK4pezQS5jMdMzN8LbZ7oUJ8ubErt1FS4w_KlpWs6upe/s1600/images-1.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 194px; height: 259px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZYO-b_7gtVYgDZCt7sFIb2wBuGwm8HR1faxG2oebRO1okb6iL_TETCUwQV5Jw_7uSXraZTcTlVgAPx-rf58qHsQq0NOEe3KTSlK4pezQS5jMdMzN8LbZ7oUJ8ubErt1FS4w_KlpWs6upe/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663401134240726450" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">If you want a trail to stay alive, walk on it.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:11.0pt;">The ultimate test of a road is not whether or not it is bumpy or smooth, or narrow or wide, or long or short. The ultimate test of a road is whether or not it can take you where you want to go. A road is only as good as its destination; without a destination, a road is simply useless concrete. With a destination, a road can be a crucial means to get where we need to go. On my recent trip to the Middle East I had the opportunity to travel on two very ancient roads: the Via Maris and the King’s Highway. Both of these routes have been used by travelers and traders for thousands of years, and they are as heavily traveled now as they ever were for one very important reason: they still get people where they need to go. The pavement may have changed over the years, but the basic route hasn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:11.0pt;">When we talk about religion in our modern world we often talk about someone’s beliefs or belief system or theology. We don’t often refer to religion as someone’s road or path, but that may in fact be a better way of thinking about it. Christianity was first referred to as “the Way” and its adherents were called “Followers of the Way.” The first Christian communities had some definite beliefs, but they were not organized around dogma, they were organized around a way of life. The Christians had a goal or destination to which they were headed: they wanted to be saved by their God; to be one with him and to be freed from lives that simply ended in death and meaninglessness. They found in Jesus of Nazareth their way or their road to an eternal promised land, just as the Children of Israel generations before had found in Moses their route to freedom.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:11.0pt;">God may give us the destination, and God may give us the road to get there, but we are the ones who must have the will to move. As anyone in New Jersey can tell you, even the best road to the greatest destination is still pretty useless if your car is not moving. From the earliest records we have, people of great faith have been people on the move: Noah, Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Jesus, Mohammad and the list goes on. All of these individuals had an active faith and not just a passive belief system. They did not look at religion as simply another way to categorize themselves; for them, religion was their road or path to a relationship with God. They had the destination, they had the road to get there, AND they had the will to walk down it. Too often people think that they can just stand out in the middle of the road and wait for God to come by and pick them up, but in the Biblical story of the Exodus, God may protect the Children of Israel and guide them along the way, but ultimately they are the ones who must move, not God.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:11.0pt;">I have a friend who insists to me all the time that faith is a gift and you either have it or you don’t. I think that that idea is absurd. It is like saying that an athlete is born with big muscles or just develops them over night. We know that our bodies require constant work to stay healthy, so why do we imagine that it is any different with our souls? Our muscles are built over time and depend upon both the food that we eat and the exercise that we do. Faith is built in a similar fashion: it relies upon both the material with which we feed it (what we read, what we watch, and what we listen to) and the work we do to exercise it. The longer we walk along the road the stronger our faith will get. Not that there aren’t stumbling blocks, potholes and detours along the way, there always will be, but ultimately the journey is ours to make or not make. If we fall we can decide to lay there and stop moving or we can get up and keep going. We can trip over others who are sitting in our path, or we can simply go around them, never allowing anyone to prevent us from reaching our destination.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-size:11.0pt;">We can think of religion as specific customs, rituals, beliefs, and dogmas that separate us from each other, or we can think of religion as different roads with the common destination of God. The ultimate test of these roads is not how bumpy they are or how hard they are to travel; the ultimate test is whether or not they eventually bring us to God. My religion, or my path, is thousands of years old. Countless millions have walked this way before me, and many continue to walk this way today. I like to imagine that my tradition is like the Via Maris or the King’s Highway: ancient, but still in use because it still gets people where they want to go. But where the road is headed is really only one part of the equation; we also have to ask ourselves how willing we are to actually do the work, walk the path and practice the faith, because in the end, if we aren’t willing to move, any road can take us nowhere.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-1299904073104181232011-03-01T10:14:00.000-08:002011-10-14T10:23:53.919-07:00SpiritMatters Monthly March 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyfgWjdyHQ4jIsmvXC9ZPUcOvesS73B4Y4SvtJqN-Yda7hnRCgaHQxrTqiC9P_PlRJyKZA37Ji7dNmc2VO2ra6_ELoWgAli-_Jx19YV7pBx9wMyR86K8-_Yi98e1WDpnNsT1MNHWKJ05gr/s1600/images-1.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 124px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyfgWjdyHQ4jIsmvXC9ZPUcOvesS73B4Y4SvtJqN-Yda7hnRCgaHQxrTqiC9P_PlRJyKZA37Ji7dNmc2VO2ra6_ELoWgAli-_Jx19YV7pBx9wMyR86K8-_Yi98e1WDpnNsT1MNHWKJ05gr/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663399645005612690" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">And whenever you fast, do not look dismal…’</span></i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-size:12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:12.0pt;">It never ceases to amaze me. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:12.0pt;">Americans will latch on to any fad diet with an almost religious zeal. The rules can be strict or relaxed, obvious or obscure. Give up dairy and meat? No problem. Give up carbs and caffeine? Easy. Cut out wheat, butter, sugar, fat or almost anything else and people are still with you, but suggest that someone might want to give up one of these items for a spiritual reason, and not merely a physical one, and you’ve lost them completely! “Why would I want to do that?” “I don’t want a religion that tells me what I can and can’t eat.” “Why would God care if I eat ________ (fill in the blank)?” The idea that the physical body and the spiritual body are linked can still seem odd and foreign, even to people of faith, despite the fact that most major religions incorporate some type of fasting in their spiritual practice. The Greek Orthodox, Roman Catholics and many Episcopalians refrain from eating certain foods during Lent, particularly on Fridays and on the High Holy Days of Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. Jews typically fast on Yom Kippur and also refrain from eating leavened foods during Passover. Muslims fast during the daylight hours during the month of Ramadan. The rules vary from one religion to the next but the principle is the same: we are called periodically to remind ourselves not to put our bodies ahead of our souls.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-size:12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:12.0pt;">We all make sacrifices everyday. We refrain from buying the little things that we want, so that we may buy the big things that we want. We avoid foods that we like so that we can be a certain size or look a certain way. We spend more or less time at work so that we can spend more or less time doing the other things of importance in our lives. Life forces us to make choices all the time and many times those choices are made without a great deal of thought. We all get into routines and patterns that are actually taking us further and further </span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-size:11.0pt;">away from our ultimate goals, and not closer to them. Sometimes it is good to stop and take a look at our choices and see what end they are actually serving. Which God do we make the most sacrifices to? Work? Vanity? Money? Entertainment? Secular people often scoff at the sacrifices that people of faith make, but at least faith calls you to be intentional about the sacrifices you make, and not to serve the Gods of this world by default.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-size:11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:11.0pt;">For many Christians, Lent, which begins this month, is a season of self-sacrifice, reflection and renewal. Contrary to popular opinion, it is not intended to be some punishment or atonement for the sins that we have committed the rest of the year, nor is it meant to be a drudgery. In the Eastern Orthodox tradition, Lent does not begin on Ash Wednesday as it does in the West, but on Clean Monday and many refer to the first week of Lent as Clean Week. It is a tradition in Greece and in other Orthodox countries for people to clean their entire house either during or </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15px;">before the first week in Lent. This spiritual and physical house cleaning is celebrated with parties and festivities. The season is seen as a gift and not as a burden. Likewise in the West, many Christians are warned on Ash Wednesday not to use their fasting to seek the attention of others, but rather to direct their own attention towards God.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;font-size:11.0pt;">Fasting is not meant to be a weight loss technique. It is not meant to help us fit into our swimsuits in time for Memorial Day. But fasting can, in its own way, help us to reduce some of the weight that we carry around on a daily basis. How much </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15px;">energy and effort do I spend on a daily basis focusing on the food that I put in my body? What if I simplified my diet and spent that time and energy focusing on feeding my soul: praying, reading, meditating, or spending time in nature? What if I spent a little less time worrying about all the other “gods” in my life and spent more focusing on the one that really matters? Fasting may not sound as sexy as the Atkins, the South Beach, the Zone, the Paleo or the 24 hour Celebrity Juice diets, but it has been practiced by people of different faiths for over 5,000 years with sometimes tremendous degrees of success. Now that is anything but a fad.</span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-17755666342572540892011-02-01T10:05:00.000-08:002011-10-14T10:13:29.055-07:00SpiritMatters Monthly February 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbqPfY-_p1IC0Vpxs0MHcr3To_vwdVD3XRgGunA1UpzbgpjdxH2NRVEXBmtQz9L5g-TMuM_LoLcHvrmuFNBbRKB2Y9yBgnSE1r5gr783j46612-hfbp60scUBsYxi4y3pd836XUVjIjOMF/s1600/images-2.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 119px; height: 164px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbqPfY-_p1IC0Vpxs0MHcr3To_vwdVD3XRgGunA1UpzbgpjdxH2NRVEXBmtQz9L5g-TMuM_LoLcHvrmuFNBbRKB2Y9yBgnSE1r5gr783j46612-hfbp60scUBsYxi4y3pd836XUVjIjOMF/s320/images-2.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663397091618050674" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:-45.35pt -.5in 0in .75in"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, <o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:-45.35pt -.5in 0in .75in"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>according to thy word;<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:-45.35pt -.5in 0in .75in"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, <o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:-45.35pt -.5in 0in .75in"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>which thou hast prepared before the face of all people,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:-45.35pt -.5in 0in .75in"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">To be a light to lighten the Gentiles, <o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:-45.35pt -.5in 0in .75in"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>and to be the glory of thy people Israel.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:-45.35pt -.5in 0in .75in"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:-45.35pt -.5in 0in .75in"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"> <!--StartFragment--> </span></i></p><i><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">The world has a long history of favoring those that come first. First born sons, in particular, have held positions of great power in the world. If you are a first born son you stand to inherit not only your father’s name, but also your father’s estate and title. A first born son was also a prized possession, because it gave father’s stability and a legacy. We only need to look to King Henry the 8</span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">th</span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> to see the lengths to which a man will go in order to have a first born son. If you were a first born son you were the heir apparent to whatever worldly power your ancestors had attained. I say worldly power, because a brief skim through the characters of the Bible should remind us that God’s favor is not always on those who come in first. Cain was the first born son of Adam and Eve and we know that he didn’t fair very well. Abraham was asked to sacrifice Sarah’s first son Issac (we can save what happened to his first actual son Ishmael till another time). Esau sold his birthright to his younger brother Jacob and then was even cheated out of his father’s blessing, and of Jacob’s sons, it was the youngest, Joseph, who was favored of God. Further along in history we will remember that it was David, the youngest son of Jesse, that God had anointed to be king over Israel. When Samuel was looking over the son’s of Jesse and saw Eliah, the eldest, he thought “surely this must be the Lord’s anointed.” But the Lord said to him “No. I do not see the way you do. You look for the oldest, the tallest and the strongest or the most beautiful. I am not looking on the outward appearance; I am looking on the heart.” God knows our tendency to judge things. God knows that we have a habit of putting our faith and our resources into what we can see and judge, rather than on what he has revealed to us. God tested Abraham’s resolve to put God first, before his love for anything worldly, including his first born son. When God sought to free the Israelites from slavery in Egypt, his last and greatest plague struck the Egyptians where it would hurt the most: the first born. God slaughtered the first born of all Egypt, and instructed the Israelites that they were to remember perpetually how they had been spared by God. This, of course, is the beginning of the Passover tradition, but an additional part of the tradition was God’s claim that even though Israel’s first born had been spared, they still belonged to God. Not just those that survived the exodus, but all future first borns too. So there develops this tradition, of not only sacrificing the first born livestock to God, but also ritually or ceremonially sacrificing the first born male children to God. All of those that are first born are consecrated to God as a solemn reminder that God always comes first. It is partially in the context of this ceremonial sacrifice that Jesus is brought to the temple in a passage from the gospel of Luke. He is a first born son and therefore Mary and Joseph had to acknowledge that he belonged first and foremost to God, not to them. Joseph offered to the priest Simeon the prescribed sacrificial animals to be offered to God in exchange for the life of this baby boy. This was the law of Moses and we are told that Joseph and Mary did everything in accordance with the law.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">According to tradition Simeon was an old priest. He had been doing this very same service of claiming first born sons as belonging to God for years, perhaps hundreds of times. Simeon had been told by the Holy Spirit that this work he was doing would not be in vain, but that it eventually would lead him to see the messiah, the child that would actually be God’s very own. The first born, not just of one man and woman, but of all creation. And here at last he was in his arms. The beacon of light that he had waited his entire life to see and the one child that would give all of that waiting and working meaning. When Simeon utters the Nunc Dimittis, which is the prayer that begins: “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace…” he does it for all of us who spend our lives working and waiting for God’s glory to be realized and seen. It is fitting that this prayer is traditionally said at the end of the day, because it is often only those brief glimpses of God’s kingdom that give us the strength and courage and peace that we need to go forward into another day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Mary and Joseph were astounded at what Simeon and Anna said, not because they didn’t believe it, but because it confirmed what they already knew and could see. What a joy it is to have your faith confirmed by others; to have an experience that you thought only you had, be shared by someone else. How important it is to have that confirmation that other people see the light of God where you see the light of God. That is the beauty of fellowship: to be able to stand together with others and say hat we have seen God here. Part of the reason people of faith gather in communities, I hope, is that it is a way that we can claim those places and those ways in which we believe we can encounter God. For Christians, the Feast of Candlemas, which celebrates Christ’s presentation in the temple, can be a hard sell to get people to come to church sometimes. It doesn’t have any of the penitential lament of Ash Wednesday or Good Friday; it doesn’t have any of the joy or frivolity of Christmas Day or Epiphany. Its popular customs are largely forgotten and have mostly to do with this being the end of the Christmas and Epiphany season. It doesn’t stir us up and excite us, and maybe for that very reason it might have the most to say to us about our daily lives as people of faith. The Purification of the Blessed Virgin and the Presentation of our Lord were done not out of desperation or delight, but out of devotion. They were done because God asked for them to be done and the people that did them had the will and the patience and the faith to keep listening to God, to keep observing his commands, and to keep working for his kingdom until by God’s light and grace they were allowed to see it. May we too be so lucky to serve God, to see his salvation, and to depart in peace.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </i><p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-9914406318114488612010-12-01T09:56:00.000-08:002011-10-14T10:04:55.734-07:00SpiritMatters Monthly December 2010<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm60SkoIuOfD5KsQ7ezT6cBLr5Jz2lPGJLBd3aGhuiInEzrSp3zg66e9891XFO6WHpdDFWixMBr9c0w5jQQher7NIwBSUq3XS7l1ZToMrzZYP0xZy0Rox_KDpsxPDhX4Qr7regz3psMlKp/s1600/images-1.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 199px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm60SkoIuOfD5KsQ7ezT6cBLr5Jz2lPGJLBd3aGhuiInEzrSp3zg66e9891XFO6WHpdDFWixMBr9c0w5jQQher7NIwBSUq3XS7l1ZToMrzZYP0xZy0Rox_KDpsxPDhX4Qr7regz3psMlKp/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663394554340674610" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Of the things that are, that have been,<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">And that future years shall see,<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Ever more and ever more!</span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:12.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Contrary to popular belief,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:12.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> Christmas Trees are not an ancient tradition. If you asked the average person on the street where the tradition of Christmas Trees came from, he or she would probably tell you that it was an ancient pagan custom that Christians adopted. Unfortunately, there isn’t any evidence to support this theory. While it is known that ancient pagans brought branches of evergreen and mistletoe into their homes during the winter season, the earliest evidence we have of anything even resembling a Christmas Tree dates from around the mid 1400s, and even then the practice was restricted to a few places in Estonia and Northern Germany. The modern popularity of Christmas Trees, particularly among English-speaking Christians, can largely and reliably be dated to one event:</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:12.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">In December of 1848 a drawing was printed in the </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Illustrated London News</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> that depicted Queen Victoria and her husband Prince Albert standing around a decorated fir tree with the royal family (Prince Albert was German and therefore familiar with the Christmas Tree traditions of his homeland). The English nobility immediately latched on to the tradition and by the end of the 19</span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">th</span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> century having a Christmas Tree was quite common, both in England and America. While it is true that we don’t know the exact date of Christ’s birth, we do know that Christians have been celebrating the event on December 25</span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">th</span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> since before the year 355AD. That’s at least 1,655 Christmases! Over all those years the traditions surrounding the holiday have changed and developed as each new generation of Christians brings to the observance their own customs, rituals and beliefs. Some customs were brought by pagan converts (mistletoe), some were brought by ethnic groups (German Christmas Trees) and other we can trace to specific individuals (St. Francis of Assisi is responsible for creating the first Nativity Scene or Crèche).</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN;font-size:12.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">We are now in the midst of the holiday season, a time of the year when for most of us tradition plays a larger role than during most of the rest of the year. Tradition is a funny thing: it shapes us while we shape it. Tradition is a living thing, and like most living things, it evolves and changes over time. We live in relationship with tradition, much like we live in relationship with other people in our lives: healthy relationships involve give and take; they involve listening and challenging; most importantly they involve mutual respect and not coercion. We may not always understand a tradition, but that is no reason to dismiss it. Healthy traditions allow us to be uniquely who we are, while at the same time challenging us to be a part of something larger, older and greater.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Tradition has a way of forcing us to encounter people that we would otherwise have no hope of meeting in our daily lives. It is through tradition that we encounter individuals that died hundreds, even thousands of years before us. By observing the same (or similar) rituals and practices, we are in a sense linked to our ancestors and they speak to us through the tradition. Our observance of different traditions connects us to people in far off foreign lands, at different times and in different places. It is also by tradition that we leave a legacy to those who will come after us. Tradition is that bizarre place where past, present, and future come together.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">The Victorians adopted a tradition that was not their own (the German Christmas Trees), because in it they saw something of great beauty and value that enhanced their own celebration of Christmas, and by adopting the practice, they in turn have shaped our tradition. I love the fact that our modern holiday celebrations are such a hodgepodge of different traditions from different cultures. For me, the fact that our traditions are continuing to grow and develop are proof that God isn’t done with us yet.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-37623455180482182212010-11-17T15:40:00.000-08:002010-11-17T15:41:37.283-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly November 2010<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN">So one elephant having a trunk was odd; but all elephants having trunks looked <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">like a plot</span></span></i><b><span lang="EN" style="font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN">.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN" style="font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN">-G.K. Chesterton</span></i><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">I often say that New York is the biggest small town you will ever live in. In a city of roughly 8 million people you would think that the chances of randomly running into someone you know would be pretty unlikely, and yet it’s the sort of thing that happens to me all the time. I step on a subway train and there stands a friend that I haven’t seen in months; Walking down the street I often run into acquaintances from other parts of town, other cities and even other states. You can call it coincidence, you can call it serendipity, but to me it feels more like a plot. Why on earth with all the millions of possibilities out there should I regularly find myself in the right place at the right time? I know that I often think about the world as if it were ruled by complete chance, and yet my experience frequently proves otherwise.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">Many of us have probably asked the question: “Why do bad things happen to good people?” but I wonder how many of us ask “Why do good things happen to good people?” If the universe were ruled by the laws of chance and probability then one outcome would seem just as likely as the other, but if we really look closely at life we will probably find that the good things happen more frequently. Why is it then that we spend so much time talking about the bad things in life? Maybe the bad things are so noticeable to us precisely because they are a departure from the norm. Good things happen with such regularity that eventually we begin to overlook them. I’m not talking about big miracles like winning the lottery or having a baby. I’m talking about the little everyday things that we take for granted: having enough food to eat, having friends that love and care for us, or getting over the flu. These things happen so regularly that we fail to notice them until they don’t happen. If we stopped focusing on the bad things in our life, or on the things that we don’t have and instead looked to the multitude of blessings that we often ignore, how much happier would our lives be?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN">We are headed into the holiday season and already advertisers are bombarding us with messages reminding us of what we don’t have or trying to convince us that we need precisely what they are trying to sell. This may be a burden of the holiday season that we have to live with, but we don’t have to accept it uncritically. Thanksgiving is a perfect time to remind ourselves, on the day before the madness of the holiday rush begins, of the ways in which we are already blessed. We can give thanks, not just for the food before us, but for the many good things which we regularly overlook. We just might discover that we already have more than we need. The giving that comes as a part of the holiday season can be a true joy if the gifts are our response to the abundance of blessings in our lives and not just another chore that we “need” to do. If you look at your life closely you may just discover a multitude of little blessings, graces or “coincidences” that individually can be explained away or ignored, but collectively are far more significant. I am always intrigued when watching artists at work. Some brush strokes seem totally bizarre and pointless until the painting is finished and you realize how important that one splash of red or dot of white is to the overall painting. May we prepare for this holiday season by taking the time to give thanks for all the little good things in our lives: those little moments of grace which by the laws of chance and probability didn’t have to happen, but did anyways. Let us give thanks for all those little brush strokes that remind us, even for a moment, that there is an artist at work.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> Blessings,</o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none">Fr. Kevin</p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-80090778046407071692010-10-17T15:39:00.000-07:002010-11-17T15:40:27.120-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly October 2010<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:Arial;color:#001320;mso-ansi-language:EN">I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">Where do you turn when it seems that the world has turned on you? Most of us have some sort of support network that we rely upon to get us through tough times. We depend upon family and friends to nurture, comfort and protect us when we are weak and struggling. It is a blessing to have people in our life that love us and support us, but there are times though that no matter how strong a support system we have, it just doesn’t seem to be enough. Regardless of how functional our family is or how dependable our friends are, we should never forget that they are all human and capable of failure from time to time. It isn’t always possible to know what another person is feeling, and even if we know someone is hurting we don’t always know how to respond. We can’t always count on other people to save us; sometimes we need a force more powerful.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">I often hear people talk about faith and religion as if they were primarily concerned with one’s views or beliefs about the afterlife. Many people think of faith and religion as hobbies for those that are naturally interested in such things, or as preoccupations of the superstitious; we may be respectful of someone’s faith in an effort to be polite and civil, but I wonder if we don’t often undervalue how truly powerful a force it can be in their life. Faith isn’t just about heaven and hell; for some people its primary benefits are how it allows them to live in this life, not the next. Perhaps the most remarkable thing about faith is not that it has the power to save you from some eternal hell, but that it has the power to save you from a hell that you may already be living in.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">Despair and loneliness can be terrifying feelings. If you have ever felt that your world has been turned upside down or questioned if you will ever know happiness or peace again, then you know what I am talking about. The rash of suicides in the news lately are a sobering reminder of just how deadly despair can be. Let’s face it, the world we live in isn’t always a friendly place. When the world seems cruel and unforgiving it is helpful to have a sense of love and forgiveness that comes from beyond this world. One of the great benefits of a healthy faith is that it can equip us to overcome loneliness and despair. Faith can give us the strength and confidence to keep going even in the face of adversity. Faith gives us the hope that things will get better and that our future is never as bleak as it sometimes seems. Faith can give us the courage, as the gospel hymn goes: “to hold on just a little while longer.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">Life throws mountains in front of us all the time: embarrassment, pain, disappointment, rejection. There are times when we may want to quit because we think we will never overcome it. It is in those times when even a tiny amount of faith can give us the power to hold on until either the mountain moves or until we have the strength to climb it; either way a tiny amount of faith can sustain us, when the rest of the world lets us down.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN">Don’t underestimate the power of your faith. Look back on your life and think of times when it may have been the only thing that sustained you. When we talk about someone’s faith or religion, we’re not just talking about where they go on Friday night or Sunday morning, we’re talking about something that just might be a fundamental part of their existence. Whether or not we think someone’s faith has the power to save them in the next world, we should always consider how it may have already saved them in this one.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Blessings,</p><p class="MsoNormal">Fr. Kevin</p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-84412234284053882192010-09-17T15:37:00.000-07:002010-11-17T15:39:15.585-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly September 2010<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">From Ghoulies and Ghosties,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">And Long-Leggedy Beasties,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">And things that go Bump in the Night,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">Good Lord, Deliver us.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">The earth doesn’t spin perfectly around the sun; it wobbles. Sometimes the Northern Hemisphere is pointed toward the sun, sometimes the Southern. Our seasons of spring, summer, fall and winter are the direct result of this cosmic hokey pokey that our planet does on its annual dance around the sun. The September equinox marks a transition and for those of us in the Northern hemisphere, it means that our days will be getting increasingly shorter for the next few months. As much as I love the fall with its cooler temperatures and beautiful color, I must admit that I find the decreasing daylight to be a bit of a bummer. In the ancient and medieval world, losing daylight was far a far more threatening reality than it is to us. With electricity and artificial light we are able to control our environment in ways that people a few generations ago could never have imagined, but without such conveniences the fall can appear much more sinister indeed: Increasing cold, increasing disease, and increasing crime as the long, dark night provides cover for all manner of illicit activity. We often fear things that lurk in the shadows: the unseen and unexpected creatures and villains that leap out at us unexpectedly. It is no accident that a festival like Halloween comes at such a time in the year when it seems like the darkness has the upper hand; when the night is longer and we can see less of what is going on around us. But while we spend so much time worrying about things that we cannot see, faith is there to remind us that not every invisible force is a foe: in fact, we are told that in the realm of the unseen there are more powerful creatures fighting for us than against us.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">A few days after the official transition from summer to fall (the autumnal equinox or September 23) comes a feast that at one time was of great importance and a holy day of obligation: the Feast of Saint Michael the Archangel. This festival is sometimes referred to as Michaelmass or the Feast of Saint Michael and All Angels, and it celebrates a figure that is referred to in the Hebrew, Christian and Islamic Scriptures. Michael’s image is easily recognizable as he is traditionally depicted much differently than any other angel: we usually see Michael armored for battle with a sword in one hand and a serpent under his foot. This is no blushing cherub with a halo; this is a soldier and it’s for this reason that Michael is the patron of police officers and members of the armed services, but Michael is meant to be more than just a medal worn around the neck for good luck. Michael should remind us that in the midst of our daily anxieties, when we are worried about all the things lurking in shadows that seem bent of destroying us, that there are also forces working to protect us as well and often they are equally unseen. While in art we often see angels depicted as being bright, glorious and a bit showy, making dramatic announcements or blowing a trumpet; the reality seems to be that more often than not angels work behind the scenes with little or no credit.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN">Perhaps the Feast of Saint Michael comes at a very opportune time for those of us in this part of the world. As the night gets longer we can choose to become increasingly afraid of every bump in the night; terrified of the dangers that are hiding just beyond our sight; or we can go to sleep and rest easy, believing that regardless of what may be trying to get us, there is a force far more powerful that is determined to save us.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Blessings,</p><p class="MsoNormal">Fr. Kevin</p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-57073258865791922602010-07-17T15:36:00.000-07:002010-11-17T15:37:41.493-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly July 2010<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">Martha, Martha<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">I am very busy these days. I have more work to do with less help and less time. I have too much paperwork; too many appointments and too many meetings to go to. When I get home there is housework to do, yard work to do, social and family obligations, church services, etc. I could continue to go on about how busy I am but you probably wouldn’t have time to read it, because you’re busy too. It’s a funny little irony that while talking about how busy we are sometimes makes us feel special; it actually proves that we are just like everyone else. The fact is that we all have busy lives, but nonetheless our “busy-ness” is one of the first excuses we all (myself included) grab for whenever we are trying to justify why we didn’t do something: <i>I was just too busy; there aren’t enough hours in the day; I didn’t have the time</i>… Let’s face it, being too busy is a tired excuse and we should put it to rest. Being busy has nothing to do with our modern world either: humans have more free time now than at any previous point in our history. Why then are we all so task-oriented? Perhaps it’s because being task-oriented is sometimes easier than being people oriented. Our jobs and chores demand our time and skill, but little else: “busy work” does not place the same emotional demands on us that “people work” does. It can be very easy, especially when working in the healthcare or service industries, to see other people as more occasions for work, and not as human beings with emotional and spiritual needs just like you and me. It can be convenient to make people into objects: to turn them into numbers, or DRGs or food trays, but doing so not only cheats them of the respect they deserve, it also cheats us of the rewards that come with knowing and serving other people. No matter how much time and emotion you put into your work, it will never love you back and it will never thank you. Only people can do that.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">There is a familiar story in the Gospel of Luke which has Jesus visiting the home of two sisters: Martha and Mary. While Mary was content to sit at Jesus’ feet and listen to him, Martha was totally preoccupied with all of the various chores associated with house guests. When Martha complained to Jesus that her sister wasn’t helping her he responded by saying: “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.” I think we all have a tendency to become worried and distracted by the many tasks in our lives. Our “busy-ness” pulls us further and further away from being present with and to our fellow human beings. Mary chooses the better part because she chooses to be in the moment with Jesus, fully present to him. Mary doesn’t see this visitor as merely another mouth to feed or more work to be done, she sees him as a blessing in her life that deserves her full attention. While so much of what we work for in life ultimately proves to be momentary and fleeting, the time that we spend with others is never wasted, because those memories and experiences can never be taken from us.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">We all have work to do, some of it very important and necessary work indeed, but our work should draw us closer to the people in our lives and the people we serve; it shouldn’t distract us from them. I will probably continue to be busy for the foreseeable future; so will you. But being busy is much more tolerable when you are constantly reminded of who and what you are working for. The work we do has so much more meaning when it has a human face.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Blessings,</p><p class="MsoNormal">Fr. Kevin</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-55577756008028012122010-06-01T15:34:00.000-07:002010-11-17T15:36:18.107-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly June 2010<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">A child said “What is the grass?” fetching it to me with full hands;<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">A few years back there was a trend in this country of grocers selling ‘corn-fed beef’ as a premium item. A couple high-end retail outlets sprang up to distribute this supposedly superior meat to those willing to pay for it. While corn-fed beef is still available and quite prevalent in many supermarkets it is no longer as prized as it once was and now ‘grass-fed beef’ is considered the preferred choice. Why did this trend shift? The answer is surprisingly simple:<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt; mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">Have you ever seen a cow shuck corn?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt; mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">The answer is obviously ‘No,’ because cows aren’t naturally designed to eat corn. Cows are designed to eat grass. Corn actually makes cows sick and feedlots compensate by giving their cows antibiotics and other drugs. The organic food movement has brought attention to the negative effects that our attempts at “improving” much of our food have had on our health and the health of our environment. In our struggle to find a better cow feed we overlooked the solution that was right under our feet: grass.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt; mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">In the 1300s a Franciscan friar by the name of William of Ockham proposed that the simplest solution is usually the best one. Scientists refer to this as Ockham’s Razor. We humans have a tendency to complicate things more than necessary: not just with our food, but in our daily life and work. We make our lives harder than they need to be. Maybe we are restless or ambitious; maybe we are so distracted by our own complex lives that we fail to see the beauty in simplicity. Humans are extremely smart, and yet we constantly find ourselves outwitted by nature.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt; mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">Manhattan is a complex world of new experiences and pleasures and one can find just about every conceivable sort of entertainment on that island, but pick any sunny June day and what do you find hundreds of thousands of New York City residents looking for?: a patch of grass. Whether it’s the Sheep Meadow in Central Park or the Christopher Street Pier, people flock to find a temporary spot on the grass. We may not always think about it, but it is amazing how restorative living grass can be when we spend so much of our lives on dead concrete.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt; mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">Walt Whitman was fascinated with grass. He looked at grass and saw not just a simple plant, but a sign that the earth was alive. In his poem “Song of Myself” Walt writes:<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt; mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">What do you think has become of the young and old men?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">And what do you think has become of the women and children?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt; mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">They are alive and well somewhere,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">The smallest sprout shows there really is no death,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">And ceased the moment life appeared.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt; mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt; mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:1.0in"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt; mso-ansi-language:EN">This summer as we are moving the lawn, sunbathing, playing sports or picnicking, may we see beneath our feet a sign of our world’s life and our creator’s power…and may we be fed by it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:1.0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px;">Blessings,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops:1.0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px;">Fr. Kevin</span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-81344255176051137212010-05-01T15:31:00.000-07:002010-11-17T15:34:09.841-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly May 2010<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><i><span lang="EN" style="font-size:9.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">This mystery of Love be sung,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><i><span lang="EN" style="font-size:9.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">In every age, by every tongue.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">Every year at 5a.m. on May the 1<sup>st</sup> a very unique tradition takes place in the University town of Oxford, England. That morning, known as May Morning, the choir from the chapel of Magdalen College (pronounced “Maudlin”) climbs to the top of its medieval bell tower and sings a hymn to the rising sun. This tradition dates back at least 500 years and is now the occasion for great revelry and festivities in the street below Magdalen College tower.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not many colleges or universities can point to traditions that are over 500 years old, but every school has traditions that it clings to with an almost religious zeal. So often the world thinks of young people as being anti-establishment or anti-tradition, but take a walk on any college campus and you are sure to find scores of young adults eagerly participating in traditions that range from the mundane to the bizarre. In New Haven, Connecticut there is a statue in the middle of Yale University’s old campus with a golden toe, polished by being constantly rubbed by students for good luck; at Dartmouth University the winter’s first snowfall each year is celebrated by a snowball fight on the college green; this year almost every college and high school commencement ceremony will begin with the familiar tune “Pomp and Circumstance.” When life is filled with change and turmoil, as the lives of many young adults are, it can be very reassuring to have something stable and dependable to hold on to. Perhaps it is for this reason that it is common to refer to our school as our “alma mater,” which is Latin for “nourishing mother.” <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">Our schools, like our mothers, should protect us, build us up, and give us the skills we need to survive in a tumultuous and changing world. We also refer to “mother church” for much the same reason: because it is there as a reliable source of love and encouragement when the rest of the world is more fickle with its affections. Our mothers’ are responsible for teaching us many of the traditions that we turn to for comfort later in life. Whether our traditions are taught to us by mother school, mother church, or our real mother, they are our connection to the past and our legacy to the future. The Church remembers three special mothers this month: Mary, Elizabeth and Monica. For catholics, the month of May is dedicated to the Virgin Mary (arguably the most famous mother of all) and the Feast of the Visitation recalls her visit to the home of her cousin Elizabeth, who was soon to become a mother herself. One wonders what traditions and what elements of character these two women transmitted to their sons. We often talk about the “fathers” of the Church, people like Saint Augustine of Hippo, who spilt ink and sometimes blood defending the faith, but the fact that Augustine was a Christian at all is directly the result of the persistence of his mother Monica. Receiving out faith at the hands of our mothers is not just a Christian phenomenon either: in the Jewish tradition, one is considered Jewish if they are born to a Jewish mother. Like our traditions, our mothers connect us to the past and give birth to our future; they are a reminder that we are not floating alone in some soulless cosmos, but are connected physically, emotionally and spiritually to the world around us. The Magdalen College choir sings an ancient song on May Morning, which gives thanks to the Holy Trinity for the gift of the Eucharist, which in Christian theology fills us with God’s life; may we too give thanks this May for the sources of life and love in our own lives.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Blessings,</p><p class="MsoNormal">Fr. Kevin</p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-35791679161660060172010-04-01T15:27:00.000-07:002010-11-17T15:31:12.665-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly April 2010<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><i><span lang="EN" style="font-size:9.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">Rejoice and sing now, all the round earth,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><i><span lang="EN" style="font-size:9.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">Bright with a glorious splendor,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="font-size:9.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN">For darkness has been vanquished by our eternal King.</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; font-style: italic;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;mso-pagination:none"><i><span lang="EN" style="font-size:9.0pt;color:#FFFFCC;mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN">I began last April’s column with a quote from T.S. Eliot’s “The Wasteland.” This year I am inspired again by Eliot, who writes in his poem “Little Gidding”:<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">What we call the beginning is often the end<br />And to make an end is to make a beginning.<br />The end is where we start from.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">Here we are at the beginning of April and the beginning of Spring, a time when we like to celebrate new life, the warmth of longer days and the beauty of new flowers that seem to be blooming everywhere, and yet, I can’t help but feel that this April may feel more like an end for some than a beginning. Some endings are welcome. I, for one, am ready for Lent to be over and I could do without the cold weather for a while, but some endings are much harder to bear. Whether it is the end of a career, a relationship, or a life, it can be incredibly difficult at times to remain optimistic and hopeful when something that has given our life great meaning is now coming to an end. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN">For most Christians, the first three days of April this year coincide with what is called the Sacred Triduum, or the three holy days: Maundy (or Holy) Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday. For Christians these days are focused on the contemplation of the end: specifically the end of the life of Jesus of Nazareth: his last supper (Thursday), his execution (Friday), and the liminal time of mourning and waiting for what was coming next (Saturday). For the followers of Jesus, those three days represented not only the death of someone that they truly loved, but also the death of their hopes and dreams for what he would do in their own life. Looking back on the event 2000 years later, we can see that what was at first seen as the end of one life, was also the beginning of something far more powerful and greater. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">The end is where we start from. The future can be such an unknown and scary thing sometimes; the past which may not have always been happy, is at least familiar to us. But life never allows us to remain forever the same: our careers change, our relationships change and our bodies change. The challenge of faith is to see in all these changes not just an end, but also a new beginning. Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote that: “All that I have seen teaches me to trust the creator for all that I have not seen.” The Easter Vigil, which is a service that many Christians participate in on Saturday night, consists of many readings which retell stories of miracles and grace from the Judeo-Christian scriptures. It is easier to have faith in the future, if we can remind ourselves of how we have experienced God’s grace in the past. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">In your own life, what sorrowful endings turned out to be blessed beginnings? When has an unwanted or unfortunate change brought about something truly wonderful? I can recall many times in my life when God has placed me where I needed to be, not exactly where I wanted to be. Each time the change may have been difficult, and even painful, but ultimately I can look back and see in every ending the beginning of something new. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">The Easter Vigil service begins in total darkness, which is appropriate since after a dramatic change or loss in our lives we may feel lost or in the dark, just as those first followers of Jesus did, but it doesn’t end that way; it ends in total and glorious light, symbolic of the hope that our lives do not end in darkness, but rather, in the light of something new and wonderful. May you be blessed by the ability to see in every ending, the seeds of a new beginning.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">Rejoice and be glad now, Mother Church,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">And let your holy courts, in radiant light,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN">Resound with the praises of your people.</span></i><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt; mso-ansi-language:EN"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN">Blessings,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px;">Fr. Kevin</span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-73838018789898211622010-03-17T15:15:00.000-07:002010-11-17T15:27:25.777-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly March 2010<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I bind unto myself the power,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language:EN"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Of the great love of cherubim….</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><!--StartFragment--> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">March 17<sup>th</sup> is a day that lives in infamy for most Americans. It is a day that, regardless of their ethnic heritage, Americans revel in everything Irish: Irish food, Irish music, and in particular, Irish Beer. Our modern celebration of St. Paddy’s Day has about as much to do with Saint Patrick of Ireland as Valentine’s Day has to do with Saint Valentine. In Ireland, March 17<sup>th</sup> is regarded as a holy day of obligation, wherein the faithful are expected to go to church to give thanks for this their country’s patron saint, but in America the celebration takes on a much more secular nature. What is amusing to me, is that Saint Patrick, whose feast day is now used for celebrating Irish cultural and national pride, was in fact (drumroll please)…BRITISH! The great irony of Saint Patrick’s Day, is that just as so many of the revelers in the streets on March 17<sup>th</sup> haven’t got a drop of Irish blood in their veins, neither did the man in whose name they are celebrating.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">Saint Patrick was born around the year 390 in Northern Britain and when he was in his early teens he was captured by a band of Irish slave-raiders, taken to Ireland and forced to serve the Irish as a slave for many years. Eventually Patrick escaped and returned to Britain, where he was later ordained as a priest and as a bishop, but freedom was not enough for Patrick. Patrick had a vision that compelled him to do something with his new found freedom. What did he do? He returned to Ireland, to the place where he had been enslaved and sought to minister to those very same people that had once held him captive.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">Patrick’s story is one of the greatest examples of the power of forgiveness. Saint Patrick didn’t return to Ireland seeking revenge or restitution, he sought reconciliation and he got it. Kings flocked to Patrick; people followed him about all over the countryside; legends were formed and tales of miraculous deeds began to spread. What is unfortunate though is that while the little miracles brought Patrick fame, the biggest miracle in his life was largely overlooked. Patrick’s faith was the most important thing in his life; it was the greatest treasure he had, and he chose to offer that not to his friends or family or even to his own countrymen; he chose to offer it to his enemies, the same people that had once persecuted him. Patrick did one of the hardest things for any human to do: he forgave his enemies. Now that is truly a miracle.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 11.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN">Anyone well versed in modern Irish history knows just how much animosity there is between England and Ireland and this animosity exists for good reason. People always have good reasons to resent their enemies, otherwise they wouldn’t be enemies. Saint Patrick had many reasons to resent and hate his Irish overlords, but he found a force more powerful than reason: love. Love compels us to do the most unreasonable things sometimes, like forgiving those who have hurt us.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN" style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN">I for one intend to celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day, not because I have Irish ancestors, but because his life is a reminder that cultural and national pride should never come before our love for our fellow man. Remember that, like Patrick of Ireland, the person who has the most to teach you about who you are just might come from the enemy camp.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px;">Blessings,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px;">Fr. Kevin</span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-18037001028305529942010-02-09T13:57:00.000-08:002010-02-09T14:01:51.293-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly February 2010<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVsvksGUfJjjavzBYSS_pA7u5iIf68vL3ZWSe6W-GdQ3fDOMUDpESLfpozzU4dbUzyDhJQZby_f0QtVuQLcJhPuIa5Ew2jrgtt78k8uk5vAfBHltHUEQNUDjc1iGK4_crL81-xfg0W9Sbk/s1600-h/SandMandala-051.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436366889276826562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 209px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVsvksGUfJjjavzBYSS_pA7u5iIf68vL3ZWSe6W-GdQ3fDOMUDpESLfpozzU4dbUzyDhJQZby_f0QtVuQLcJhPuIa5Ew2jrgtt78k8uk5vAfBHltHUEQNUDjc1iGK4_crL81-xfg0W9Sbk/s320/SandMandala-051.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><em>Dust thou art,</em><br /></div><div><em>And unto dust shalt thou return.</em></div><br /><br /><div>A couple weeks ago I was walking through Union Square when I happened upon a young man putting the final touches upon a huge sand mandala that he had made on the sidewalk. Sand mandalas are a Tibetan Buddhist tradition whereby colored sand is used to create a large circle or wheel with extremely intricate designs within it. I have seen sand mandalas made several times. The first time was by a team of Buddhist monks that spent an entire week painstakingly placing sand grain by grain into the pattern. It is amazing to see just how careful the monks are with their work and sand mandalas are usually amazing works of art, but they are not merely art. This is a beautiful creation with an important lesson to teach. As soon as the sand mandala is finished it may be ritually blessed and then, much to the horror of many onlookers, it is swept away. Sand mandalas are meant to be an object of great beauty for only a moment and their destruction emphasizes the Buddhist belief in the transitory nature of the material world. The used sand is scooped up and poured into a nearby river never to be used again. Regardless of how beautiful or complicated this piece of art appears, its creator always reminds us that it is made from the same stuff we sweep off our floors everyday: sand. After looking at the young man’s mandala for a few moments, I went on about my business. By the time I had returned from getting a cup of coffee at a nearby café, the mandala was gone, with scarcely a trace that it had ever been there at all.<br />Of course, you don’t have to be a Buddhist to recognize that the material world is fleeting. Every year millions of Christians mark their foreheads with ashes as both a sign of penitence and as solemn reminder of their mortality. The ashes are all that remain of the palm branches from Palm Sunday the previous year. The palm branches, which to Christians are a rem<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtUcxx1CLRDT-UC4NJFAcs-PLQtj17ztCSDLRzDOVZn1QrjjX_DtXpI0yNXMQjSVnJsEhy6SVeqsXRlS8e5DESS0AuXnoTZD0mbRsMCk15nd_BtaShJWx6c1Ubfkl7Vs1w9TKQErOoxbA/s1600-h/Ash_Wednesday.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436367046728895266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 215px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtUcxx1CLRDT-UC4NJFAcs-PLQtj17ztCSDLRzDOVZn1QrjjX_DtXpI0yNXMQjSVnJsEhy6SVeqsXRlS8e5DESS0AuXnoTZD0mbRsMCk15nd_BtaShJWx6c1Ubfkl7Vs1w9TKQErOoxbA/s320/Ash_Wednesday.jpg" border="0" /></a>inder of Jesus of Nazareth’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem, are completely burned until there is nothing left but carbon. This carbon is then pressed upon a person’s head with the memorable words: “remember that you are dust, and unto dust you shall return.” It is a stark reminder that human life, no matter how complex or intricate it may be, can like that sand mandala be swept away in a moment.<br />The sand and the ashes are not just meant to remind us that life is short though: for the Tibetan Buddhist the sand designs are meant to portray eternal spiritual realities and the pouring of the sand into the water is meant to bring healing and blessing into this world, for the Christian the ashes are a sign of belief in an eternal world beyond this physical one and they are a reminder that what we do in this temporary world matters in that eternal one. Both the sand and the ashes are physical symbols of an important spiritual truth: life is about more than the stuff it is made out of. Beautiful things may fade away, or be swept away, but beauty never can. May we be able to appreciate the beautiful things in our life, but never lose sight of the true eternal beauty which lies behind them.</div></div>Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-52232853982542355762010-01-01T00:00:00.000-08:002010-01-01T00:00:08.071-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly January 2010<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihCFxZA9xzc88-jFk-cNZWA8vJ3nhJdQwLKDIylAV2NVo0E2O4D5jRtsbzvFRlpaOzL2QmhGKrKEqdkVLov7iH-frImJdP4Q9cox9dq3aH2CsfFByxzvQst2gt1U4gkR2UZO2L96YVWW7C/s1600-h/dog-time-perception-1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421473577814146450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihCFxZA9xzc88-jFk-cNZWA8vJ3nhJdQwLKDIylAV2NVo0E2O4D5jRtsbzvFRlpaOzL2QmhGKrKEqdkVLov7iH-frImJdP4Q9cox9dq3aH2CsfFByxzvQst2gt1U4gkR2UZO2L96YVWW7C/s320/dog-time-perception-1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><em>With the Lord one day is as a thousand years,<br />And a thousand years one day.</em></div><br /><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><br /><div><br />Dogs, for all of their amazing abilities, cannot tell time. A dog might know when it is time to eat, or when it is time to sleep, but it gets these cues from its environment, not from the clock on the wall. A dog might even know about when you will be getting home, but it can’t tell you how long you have been gone. This is why many dogs seem just as happy to see you after you have been gone one hour as after you have been gone for six. Clocks (and their hours, minutes and seconds) are simply not a meaningful part of a dog’s world.<br />Humans, on the other hand, worship clocks. Don’t believe me? Just turn on your TV every December 31st.<br /><br />Of course, clocks aren’t the only time-telling devices that humans worship: we love calendars too. January marks the beginning of a new calendar year and thus for many of us, means it is time to buy a new calendar. I have three calendars on my desk at work, two at home, one in my computer and one in my phone. I have a hard time imagining what my life would be like if I didn’t have something in front of me telling me what day it is today, what I’m supposed to be doing, and what I’m likely to be doing tomorrow.<br /><br />Calendars can be very useful devices; at their best they can help us remember and celebrate meaningful events. They can help us to manage our time and number our days so that those things that are the most important get the most attention. Calendars should help us live our lives, not just eat them away one day at a time. Long ago, before the average person even owned a calendar, priests would stand before their parishioners on January the 6th (the Feast of the Epiphany) and sing to them the dates of the major feasts of the following year. Here the average person was given the opportunity to look ahead at the coming year and at least mentally set apart those great observances wherein his or her time belonged to God and no other.<br /><br />Now is the time, while our calendars are still fresh and uncluttered, to look ahead and take note of those things which we wish to observe in the coming year. Have we blocked off time to participate in our faith communities? Have we set aside time for rest and vacation? Have we<br />planned to do anything fun and exciting in the coming year? Take the time to do what is truly important, or the unimportant things will take the time away from you. Tell your calendar what is important in your life before it tells you.<br /><br />We have all grown so dependent on clocks and calendars to order our daily lives that we often forget that they are a human creation, not a divine one. Clocks and calendars are our attempt to impose order on the universe, but they are likely to be far more important to us than they are to God; after all, time takes on a very different meaning if you aren’t sitting on a planet spinning around the Sun. Just because we have set aside time for God, doesn’t mean that God is bound to act according to our schedule. God doesn’t wear a watch. We set aside ti<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp1u9fzodnDlt8cgP2HZkisWZrYxJ0HAzoqlngPZ9iFVI1UNWNN28Zjwrb5QfHLkJdKQEKPunPrjD13meOK98otBSzsLgs3_ZdO7eUPT6tYETHHWUNTXlbK-8tAYaJNj_jr7SVgZH7wK2z/s1600-h/dogsmile.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421473721580013346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp1u9fzodnDlt8cgP2HZkisWZrYxJ0HAzoqlngPZ9iFVI1UNWNN28Zjwrb5QfHLkJdKQEKPunPrjD13meOK98otBSzsLgs3_ZdO7eUPT6tYETHHWUNTXlbK-8tAYaJNj_jr7SVgZH7wK2z/s320/dogsmile.bmp" border="0" /></a>me to allow ourselves to see how God is continually working in our lives, not to force God’s hand. Setting aside time for God is a ritual practice that reminds us that we forget him more than he forgets us. God can and will enter into our lives even at the most inconvenient times. Sometimes it seems like God is always leaving everything to the last minute, but then when you are in control of the universe I guess there’s no need to be in a hurry. Dealing with a deity that can’t tell time can be frustrating, as the psalmist frequently reminds us (“How long, oh Lord”), but it can also give us great hope: hope that God, like a dog, will be filled with joy every time we return and not care so much about how long we have been away.<br /><br />Blessings,<br /></div><br /><br /><div>Fr. Kevin</div></div>Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-23225858742133421362009-12-02T08:31:00.000-08:002009-12-02T08:34:40.625-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly December 2009<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLHYsH-U2jAuj1tXeFKiWxGQnWGuXcxP_0CyO4TCz2XRmChVwXbZD6hg5vp3RO9Xn_QLdQR-NnDSfoXLmcadW8DmaKxZY5JhkhYGx-U1YVc2gGgGasR4vdoWOyc9YXCvLtwwie_7fMGk5a/s1600-h/wenceslas.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410678022729116210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLHYsH-U2jAuj1tXeFKiWxGQnWGuXcxP_0CyO4TCz2XRmChVwXbZD6hg5vp3RO9Xn_QLdQR-NnDSfoXLmcadW8DmaKxZY5JhkhYGx-U1YVc2gGgGasR4vdoWOyc9YXCvLtwwie_7fMGk5a/s320/wenceslas.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>"Mark my footsteps, good my page. Tread thou in them boldlyThou shalt find the winter's rage freeze thy blood less coldly."<br /><br />There is a legend about a 10th century Duke of Bohemia (the modern day Czech Republic) that claims that the man was so pious and generous that even his footsteps provided warmth for those that followed him. This Duke, who was sainted after his death, is known to most English-speaking Christians as “Good King Wenceslas,” the hero in the popular Christmas carol of the same name: </div><div><br /><br />Good <a title="Wenceslaus I, Duke of Bohemia" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wenceslaus_I,_Duke_of_Bohemia">King Wenceslas</a> last looked out, on the <a title="Feast of Stephen" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feast_of_Stephen">Feast of Stephen</a>,</div><br /><div>When the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even;</div><br /><div>Brightly shone the moon that night, tho' the frost was cruel,</div><br /><div>When a poor man came in sight, gath'ring winter fuel.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Hither, <a title="Page (servant)" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Page_(servant)">page</a>, and stand by me, if thou know'st it, telling,</div><br /><div>Yonder peasant, who is he? Where and what his dwelling?"</div><br /><div>"Sire, he lives a good <a title="League (unit)" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/League_(unit)">league</a> hence, underneath the mountain;</div><br /><div>Right against the forest fence, by <a title="Agnes of Bohemia" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agnes_of_Bohemia">Saint Agnes</a>' fountain."</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Bring me flesh, and bring me wine, bring me <a title="Pine" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pine">pine</a> logs hither:</div><br /><div>Thou and I will see him dine, when we bear them thither."</div><br /><div>Page and monarch, forth they went, forth they went together;</div><br /><div>Through the rude wind's wild lament and the bitter weather.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Sire, the night is darker now, and the wind blows stronger;</div><br /><div>Fails my heart, I know not how; I can go no longer."</div><br /><div>"Mark my footsteps, good my page. Tread thou in them boldly</div><br /><div>Thou shalt find the winter's rage freeze thy blood less coldly.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"In his master's steps he trod, where the snow lay dinted;</div><br /><div>Heat was in the very <a title="Sod" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sod">sod</a> which the saint had printed.</div><br /><div>Therefore, <a title="Christianity" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christianity">Christian</a> men, be sure, wealth or rank possessing,</div><br /><div>Ye who now will bless the poor, shall yourselves find blessing.<br /><br />The setting of this carol is not Christmas Day, but the day after Christmas, which is the Feast of Saint Stephen. Saint Stephen is regarded as the first martyr of the Christian Church and one of its first deacons. Stephen’s task was to serve the widows in the early church and make sure that they got the food that they needed. Stephen was falsely accused of blasphemy and stoned to death by religious leaders who envied his gifts of ministry. The Feast of Stephen has been celebrated on December 26th since the 4th century, or roughly from the time that the Church started celebrating Christmas on December 25th. Why have these two feasts been linked for so long? It is easy for us to get caught up in the story of the Nativity and miss the profound significance of the greater story that is being told. We often think of children dressed as shepherds doing church plays or of the joy and innocence of kids opening toys on Christmas morning, but lest we become too enchanted by the joy and revelry, the Feast of Stephen is right there to remind us that faith and religion are anything but child’s play. Sometimes showing love to others comes at a cost far greater than any credit card bill.<br /><br />Stephen, like all deacons, dedicated his life to serving others. For Stephen, serving others was an act of love, but love always comes at great risk. The Nativity story is full of risk: Mary risked her own life for the love of God and for the love of her child; the Magi risked their lives by travelling to a foreign land to show their love to an unknown child; Joseph risked his and Mary’s life by fleeing to Egypt to save the life of their newborn. In the Hanukah story, the Maccabeans risked their lives for the love of God. Good King Wenceslas risked the cold to see that a poor man was warm and well fed. Risk is all around us this time of year. I think the publicity surrounding this flu season has made us all more aware of the great risk we take when we serve others. While we may (and should) do everything in our power to reduce our risk of getting sick or spreading disease to others, healthcare workers still take a risk every time they come to work to care for others that are suffering. This is nothing new. The Church has a long list of saints who risked (and sometimes lost) their lives for the sake of serving those in need. Whether or not we consciously think about it, every act of love is an act of risk taking, even (as the Christian story goes) for God.<br /><br />Serving others may not always be comfortable and pleasant. It can at times (as the story of St. Stephen reminds us) have horrible consequences. It may mean holding the hands of those whom the world has abandoned. It may mean risking our own lives for the sake of the lives of others. It may mean literally or figuratively stepping out into the cold world to bring warmth to others. The beauty of many of our religious traditions are that they help us take that risk together. Like the young page following King Wenceslas, if we follow in the footsteps of the saints that have gone before us perhaps the world won’t be quite so cold.<br /><br />We could, of course, try to play it safe. We could not take a chance on love; we could ignore the needs of others; we could just go our own way avoiding every risk, but what a bitterly cold world that would be indeed. Living in a world where our creator doesn’t risk loving us and where we don’t risk loving each other is, in my opinion, the only risk not worth taking.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Blessings,</div><br /><div>Fr. Kevin</div>Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-53309709615737992982009-11-04T06:48:00.000-08:002009-11-04T06:51:30.996-08:00SpiritMatters Monthly November 2009<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCv3E0qGpJQLyaAcYukjJ5IkNbphOUnpSr2SynwAQkybORTIaz6JjVK0fH-RIgqS4pgqBzC6fKndh2AHEXJ4C2DOtnDdpzXh23vhzLPmolv-hqe1S8k6TxV_TOA7MZy_CYOxXFOwWkjAnV/s1600-h/metro2.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400261092714781282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 119px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 121px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCv3E0qGpJQLyaAcYukjJ5IkNbphOUnpSr2SynwAQkybORTIaz6JjVK0fH-RIgqS4pgqBzC6fKndh2AHEXJ4C2DOtnDdpzXh23vhzLPmolv-hqe1S8k6TxV_TOA7MZy_CYOxXFOwWkjAnV/s320/metro2.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><div><em>Poussez</em></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The Montreal subway system came up with a clever solution for getting passengers in and out of their METRO stations in an efficient manner: rather than have the standard double doors in which people coming and going fend for themselves in opening their own doors, they created a very simple single door that pivots in the middle. If you push on the door to exit the station, you open the door for those entering. If you push on the door to enter the station, you also open the door for those exiting. I doubt that the designers of the METRO stations were trying to make a social statement, but they made one nonetheless: life doesn’t have to be about competition all the time. It is possible to get where you need to go without standing in the way of others.<br />Most of us were taught in school the principle of scarcity. What scarcity basically says is that we have unlimited needs and wants, but limited resources. In other words, we are taught that there is not enough to go around and therefore we must compete with each other just to get what we need. Much of human history seems to be about one group competing with another just to stay alive. There have been some moments of grace though when we have realized that life may not always have to be a case of “me or you.”<br /><br />One of the great “American Stories” that I was taught growing up was that of how the Pilgrims left the religious persecution of the Old World and came to America to create a different type of society. One of the great pinnacle moments of that story is when the Pilgrims celebrated a great “Thanks-giving” feast after their Native American friends had helped them find and grow the food they needed to stay alive in this new land. The feast that the Pilgrims had with the Native Americans might have been seen as a hopeful sign that future relations between these two races would be characterized by charity and cooperation, but alas we know that was not the case. The old idea of scarcity crept back in and the Pilgrims soon found themselves competing with the Native Americans for the land, food, and resources that the abundant New World had to offer. Pretty soon the New World began to look just as bloody as the Old World. What happened? We turned survival from being about cooperation into being about competition.<br /><br />The feast of Thanksgiving was a celebration of God’s abundance. When we realize that we have enough we have less inclination to take from others. Thanksgiving is a wonderful American tradition of taking a moment to remember how much we have, and how important that it is to share what we have with others. We are in danger of losing Thanksgiving though. Retailers have been in fierce competition with one another to see who can get the earliest jump on the holiday season. This year Christmas (or the retail version of it) invaded mid-October, perhaps September will be next. Retailers see Thanksgiving as a day to rest and energize for the shopping to follow the next day, not a day to recognize that we already have all we need.<br /><br />I thank God for those moments of grace like that first Thanksgiving, when we realize that if we share what we have with those around us that we will get so much more in return than we would if we just tried to take what we want. Maybe we have enough. Maybe things are not as scarce as we are sometimes led to believe. Maybe life would be better if (like on the Montreal METRO) we worked together to push the doors out of the way, and not each other.</div>Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-63227185849397040092009-10-01T07:49:00.000-07:002009-10-01T07:49:00.237-07:00SpiritMatters Monthly October 2009<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqEY2QUIbGJPrLwVCTHxG2PlLvO64g-HUKh94fBip91yZN0du6hyZLekiiLEvFC4zOIP9ottHEufPwNp4DPztjwUIomErHUenNcgZ4Ytm_PS3GR79AWnNNNbaKE7ppw59pJvUw-eMzXKVj/s1600-h/mask2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385046786831090290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 98px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 124px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqEY2QUIbGJPrLwVCTHxG2PlLvO64g-HUKh94fBip91yZN0du6hyZLekiiLEvFC4zOIP9ottHEufPwNp4DPztjwUIomErHUenNcgZ4Ytm_PS3GR79AWnNNNbaKE7ppw59pJvUw-eMzXKVj/s320/mask2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>The term “monger” is a wonderful word that has largely fallen out of regular use in modern American English. It means “one who peddles or sells something.” The words “fishmonger” or “cheesemonger” may be somewhat familiar as they are used occasionally to refer to someone who either sells fish or cheese. Then there are terms like “warmonger” which is someone who sells the idea of war. What all mongers have in common is that they have something to sell. Mongers do not exist for the good of society, they exist to profit from selling their goods. This is not always a bad thing, as in the case of fishmongers and cheesemongers and others who sell us the necessities of daily life, but even with such tangible items there has always been the warning of “buyer beware.” Things are not always as they seem. In the middle ages, mongers or peddlers were generally regarded with a great deal of suspicion because they were known to mask the defects in their products in order to make them sell. Even to this day salespeople do not have the best reputation for being trustworthy, but of all the mongers out there selling questionable goods the most prevalent by far these days seems to be the fear monger.<br /><br />Fear mongering is a very lucrative profession, since it takes very little investment of one’s own resources in order to profit from the fears of others. Fear mongers, like all other mongers, are in business for profit. But unlike other mongers, fear mongers profit by making things look worse than they really are. Preachers and politicians have long had the reputation of selling fear, but they certainly aren’t the only ones. Do this and all your worst fears will come true, or don’t do this and all your worst fears will come true; either way the fear monger uses fear to get what he or she wants. We have had a heavy dose of fear mongering in our country lately; some of it has been around the issue of healthcare reform; some of it has been around the issue of racism. The dynamics are much the same: convince people that they should be afraid of something or someone and you can get them to do almost anything. People who use fear to get what they want live in a perpetual Halloween: always trying to make things that aren’t all that scary, look terrifying.<br /><br />What separates Halloween revelry from fear mongering though, is that we know Halloween is a joke. Fear mongers would have us believe that the creatures in our homes and streets on October the 31st are actually ghouls and goblins; they would have us see the mask and not the child beneath it. Fear mongers are there to sell us the idea that the boogey man is real and lurking around the corner. These peddlers of paranoia want us to believe that they are the only ones who can keep us safe and therefore we should entrust all our faith (not to mention our resources) to them.<br /><br />The simplest way to fight fear mongers is to remember that they, like all mongers, are there to sell us something. They operate on the same principle of supply and demand as any other vendor. How do you put someone out of business? Don’t buy their goods. Ideas, like any other product, deserve a good inspection before they are purchased outright. Check to see if this fear is a legitimate concern, or just a mask on an innocent child. Invest your faith and your resources in something greater than fear and hope that maybe, just maybe, if we stop buying fear then the mongers will stop selling it.</div><div> </div><div>Blessings,</div><div> </div><div>Fr. Kevin+</div>Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5161220778711960486.post-64628472863953968512009-08-31T14:11:00.000-07:002009-08-31T14:17:20.723-07:00SpiritMatters Monthly September 2009<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfaNu18a116LlxHLsiiS_1ELwGTKhZsf_Bj-vkiAuLoQwRI9q02KQzNOxHwllc9k-RJM9WOk85SZYpVfZ14EMAxkho_Llw5oP2wQkQloRpmdj_vMIDd3U1YB2fS7nYmN74ZzO-yBQYQFnz/s1600-h/julia-child.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376239626921124530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 217px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 271px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfaNu18a116LlxHLsiiS_1ELwGTKhZsf_Bj-vkiAuLoQwRI9q02KQzNOxHwllc9k-RJM9WOk85SZYpVfZ14EMAxkho_Llw5oP2wQkQloRpmdj_vMIDd3U1YB2fS7nYmN74ZzO-yBQYQFnz/s320/julia-child.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><em>Ba De Ya - Dancing in September...</em></div><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><div><br />September has never been my favorite month. As a child September always meant an end to summer vacation and a return to school work. Growing up in Florida, the most exciting thing about this time of the year was that it was the height of hurricane season, and that at least, offered the potential for some excitement. Perhaps it is no coincidence that September begins with Labor Day, because this month more than any other, seems to be about work. On Labor Day, we celebrate people who work. Students begin their fall courses working towards getting their diplomas or degrees, so that they may eventually get a job and work in their chosen field. Others return from their summer vacations, prepared to work through another fall, winter and spring.</div><div><br />September falls in the middle of what the Church calls “ordinary time,” which is to say that it is not one of the special seasons like Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent or Easter. Ordinary time is, well, ordinary. Most of our lives are spent in ordinary time, just as most of our lives are spent doing work, so unless we want our lives to be boring and our work to be drudgery, then we had best learn how to make the routine and daily necessities of our existence meaningful. </div><div><br />One of the most popular movies of this summer has been the film “Julie and Julia,” about two women whose lives are enriched and made more meaningful by the most mundane daily activity: cooking. At a time when the media was trying to convince people that cooking was a chore to be avoided, Julia Child entered the scene to show how much pleasure could be had in this necessary daily activity. What for so many people had been just meaningless work, became for Julia a life-giving vocation, and through her a vocation for many others. </div><div><br />How do you view the ordinary time in your life? Is it about dull, meaningless work or is it about a life-giving vocation? What Julia taught so many is that finding joy in everyday activities is less about what you do, and more about how you do it. Life is meant to be meaningful everyday, not just on special occasions. </div><div><br />For many people Labor Day will be a day of barbecues and parties and outings to celebrate a long weekend and the symbolic end of summer, but may we also remember that this holiday was founded to celebrate people who work and the work that they do. September might not be as exciting as some of the other months of the year, but that doesn’t make it any less meaningful; perhaps being a bit more routine should make September more meaningful than other months. After all, which relationships generally mean more to us: the ones that come and go in a flash or the ones that are there day in and day out? May we see the ordinary times in our lives not as dull and boring, but as life-giving. And may our work be like our food: a necessity that gives us strength and pleasure at the same time.<br /></div><br /><div><br />Bon Appétit,<br /></div><br /><div>Fr. Kevin +</div>Father Kevin +http://www.blogger.com/profile/17345014323878807853noreply@blogger.com0