Encountering Christmas

                On the socks friends gifted me for Christmas is boldly printed “I am here” with the red marker seen in digital map apps. As soon as I saw them, I thought of Christmas. For with the birth of Christ, God is saying, “I Am here.” “I Am here” God declares and then goes on to say, “I want to be here, I desire to be here and to be this close to you in your living, in your joys and sorrows, in your hurts and healing. I am here because I love you so much, no matter what the world tells you, I do. I am here and I see you, the true you that hides behind cover stories. I see your heart and your desires. I see your heart and the hope that it carries. I see your heart and the light which you illumine the world with, even if you feel it doesn’t shine bright enough.”

                “I Am here” is the great gift of Christmas. Our God  - Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9.6), Emmanuel - with us. Our God one of us. Our God here and now. Yes, this Feast marks a specific birth day and time in history but when we get past the wrappings, the demands and the false expectations which now come with it, what remains? That God poured forth love so great that we were given the greatest gift of “I Am here” in the person of Jesus. Jesus, our brother born in the humble stable, adored by shepherds and strangers from a far, cradled in a feed trough and gazed upon by creation. Our brother the fullness of God proving “I Am here” and continuing the covenant of love. Our brother who calls us to walk in the ways of honesty, love that is not movie made, and to be bearers of good news and light.

                The good news and the light of the birth of Jesus is what we try and replicate in our greetings, decorations, feasting and traditions. These are means for us to enter into this great mystery. They must also call us to be witnesses of the good news and light for those who are hurting, alone, seeking, lost and abandoned. If we don’t bear Christ in the world this Christmas how will the “I am here” marker be seen in our world? Like the map app voice which tells us to continue for 7.5 kilometers and then turn in 600 meters, can we be the voice guiding others to the Christ Child? Are we moving our marker and showing others the spot to be with our “I Am here” God? Let us not forget that our life is incorporated into the “I Am here” message and this is indeed good news of great joy (Luke 2.10).

                The mystic Caryll Houselander said: “Our rest in a world that is full of unrest is Christ’s trust in his Father; our peace in a world without peace is our surrender, complete as the surrender of the sleeping child to her mother, of the Christ in us, to God who is both Father and Mother.” The tiny child asleep in the manger, the tiny child asleep in his mother’s arms, the tiny child asleep in the ICU, the tiny child asleep in the makeshift tent, the tiny child asleep under a tree, the tiny child asleep in her bed does nothing else but proclaim: “I am here.” It is the invitation to trust, to surrender, to be, to know we are loved by Creator God. Will we be brave enough this Christmas to encounter the Christ Child and whisper back to God, “I am here”?

                May the blessings of this season allow for you to sit with the great gift of the great “I AM” being here and always with us. May you find time to cradle the Child born for us. May you trust that his Spirit is stirring up in you more good news and light to share beyond this season into the days of 2022. May you know that the “I Am here” God of Life keeps this promise…always.

 

Christmas Blessings.

Thank you for journeying with me over this past year.

Blessings in 2022 as we continue on this pilgrim path.

Happy New Year!

 

 

 

Regular posts will resume in mid-January.

Advent Hastening

 

                As we move into these final days of Advent, we turn our attention to Elizabeth and Zechariah, to Mary and Joseph and to their stories. Each of them offers us an insight into our journey of faith and our relationships with others.

                Elizabeth reminds us to be bearers of promise. Zechariah calls us to listen well. Mary calls us to ponder. Joseph reminds us to be courageous. All four remind us to trust and to not let fear over take us. As companions on the journey, they also invite us to live with the conviction of a life rooted in Emmanuel – our God with us. Our God who has come to us and dwells here among all people, restoring us (Psalm 80) and filling us with peace (Micah 5.5a).

                “Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country…” (Luke 1.39). As she went, she must have pondered what had been told to her, for her and of her. She must have considered Elizabeth and Zechariah and how they were adjusting to unforeseen circumstances. She must have thought of Joseph and all that was going on in his heart and story. She must have contemplated her people and their desire for the long awaited Messiah. She must have pondered how the Messiah was close at hand, so close, hidden in plain sight.

                These final days of Advent can often disappear and become a blur. Let us take a cue from Mary and ponder. Let us ponder the journey of the year that has been and reflect upon where we have hastened to and where we have avoided hastening. May this pondering awaken in us to where our steps need to hasten to this Christmas and in the coming year.

               

                In a year which has seen the unsettling of our so-called collective past

                where have we hastened to build bridges?

 

                In a year which has seen even more environmental crises

                how have we hastened to honor and protect Mother Earth?

 

                In a year which has seen tensions rise between nations

                how have we hastened to be a voice of peace?

 

                In a year which has seen innocent people die because of ignorance

                where have we hastened to be an advocate for justice?

 

                In a year which has seen families and communities divided

                where have we hastened to listen well and heal wounds?

 

                In a year which has seen the need for truth and reconciliation to be honest

                where have we hastened to rise up to this work?

 

                In a year which has seen more fake news

                where have we hastened to speak the truth?

 

                In a year which has seen attacks on humanity from all walks of life

                where have we hastened to be witnesses of human fraternity?

 

                In a year which has seen… … …

                where have we hastened to... … …?

 

                In a year, in a month, in a day which has seen so much,

                where have we hastened to Christ?

 

 

 

God of the Journey,

you are with us in our steps

no matter how quickly

or how slowly we hasten.

 

Remind us that you dwell here

in us and among us.

Stir up in us the hope and love

which is infused into our very core,

so that in turn we may hasten

to that one place which needs

your presence in this last Advent week,

this late December day, this very moment.

 

Amen.

 

Photo Credits: Arūnas Naujokas and Priscilla Du Preez

Encountering Advent Light

                Poet and scholar J. Philip Newell shares a story of a presentation he made in Ottawa years ago, where a Mohawk elder was invited to make comments and reflections after a presentation on spirituality. Newell recalls how the elder responded, “As I have been listening to these themes, I have been wondering where I would be tonight. I have been wondering where my people would be tonight. And I have been wondering where we would be as a Western world tonight if the mission that had come to us from Europe centuries ago had come expecting to find light in us.”[1]

                “Expecting to find light in us,” is this not a powerful truth serum? Does that ring in your ears and pound in your heart? God created us with a piece of Divine light in each of us. Echoing the elder’s wonderings, “Where would we be as humanity if we expected to see light in each other?” This would be a world shift, a what Isaiah prophecies as the peaceable kingdom shift, a beatitude living shift, which would only increase the light that we each hold and the light in the world.

                As we enter this Third Week of Advent the light of our wreath is growing brighter. The first letter to the Thessalonians states: “You are all children of the light and children of the day” (5.5). Is this not what we should expect to encounter in each other? The Light of the world illumines our darkness, brings light to our areas of living which are in need of radiance, and is beckoning us to look for light instead of differences in each other.

                This Advent week of rejoicing or joy; is often obscured by false rejoicing: Christmas parties to raise our spirits, more Christmas movies than the day has time for, sales on boxes of chocolates and so on. These quick fix, boredom-sorrow busters often leave us feeling empty and still seeking joy; still seeking light. The light we carry is only brightened when we encounter the light of another. As Edith Wharton said: “There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle, or to be the mirror which reflects it.”

                Countless gospel stories capture the light Jesus exuded: from the blind seeing; to the woman touching his cloak; to the calling of the apostles and so on. Like Jesus and like the Mohawk elder, we have to wonder why we don’t expect to meet an encounter with that light. Is it because we are afraid that it may reveal truths about our living? Is it because we may encounter a transformation? Is it because we may need to live forth rejoicing in a new way? Is it because we might see the light of Christ in someone we don’t want to or least expect it?

                This season of Advent is growing short but the encounter with Light is only beginning to grow. It is an invitation to see beyond the countdown and allow the Light to penetrate our living beyond this season of giving. As Saint Clare of Assisi said, “We become what we love and who we love shapes what we become.” We are children of God, we are loved and so we must let the light of God shape us as we encounter the light in each other.

                The reflection of the Mohawk elder shared above is also a message for us as December 12 marks the National Day of Prayer in Solidarity with Indigenous Peoples. This day has been recognized for many years in the Catholic Church, but now more than ever it must be about the light we see in our First Nations, Inuit and Métis sisters and brothers. As we continue to work for truth and reconciliation the only way it will become life giving is if we approach it with the wonder in discovering the light carried by our Indigenous sisters and brothers. When we can be a mirror for these communities, we will see the light reflected back on to us and we will be able to rise up together with greater respect, honoring the Divine light we all carry. What actions can we make to be light bearers this week? It is time for the shift to happen and for rejoicing to arise among all peoples.

God of Light,
you created all light
and in light we see light itself (Psalm 36.9).
As we journey forward
clear the blinders from our eyes
so that we may see the Divine Light
in all peoples.
 
May unexpected encounters
of light this week
cause us to rejoice
in your drawing near to us
and see how you still dwell
here among us in peoples
from all cultures, creeds and places.
Amen.

Photo Credits:

Ivaylo Valkov

Johannes Plenio

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[1] J. Philip Newell, The Rebirthing of God, 2015, Skylight Paths Publishing

Advent Dreaming

John the Baptist is a dominate figure in Advent. His call to “prepare the way of the Lord” based on the prophets before him is the whole premise of the season. He awakens us to the work of this preparing: aligning our paths with God, smoothing out what is not right in our living and being aware of the abundant generosity of our God. These are great guides for our Advent days which are far too often consumed with a lot of noise, over indulging and empty commitments. If the work of Advent or these realities feel all too much, may I suggest dreaming. Scripture is full of dreams from Moses to Jacob to Daniel. Think of Isaiah and his dreams of a peaceful kingdom – the wolf with the lamb together, this is an awakening to Advent dreams. 
We can also consider Jeremiah capturing God’s words as a promise of this season and also dreams of this season fulfilled: “I have plans for you, plans for your well being, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29.11). John the Baptist had to dream about what he was proclaiming and foretelling. Mary and Joseph had to dream about what would be next and how would their lives would unfold? As a fellow Friar recently shared, “We can’t lose our capacity to dream. The word dream is a verb, it calls us into living.” 
Now our dreams can lead us into fantasy and emptiness if we let them. However, this is not the dreaming of Advent. Advent dreaming is rooted in the promise of John the Baptist: forgiveness, filled valleys, smooth ways and salvation. These are dreams which are woven into the very heartbeat of God and God’s dreams for all of creation. The beautiful gift of these dreams is that we are invited into making them a reality. This means we can not stay in our comfort zones. Dreams call us beyond the current and offer us a new vision. Do we still know how to dream? Have we lost our capacity to dream in our instant world? Have our comfort zones become too encompassing? Do we allow new visions to inspire us and call us to smooth paths or is it easier to stay on the rough road  because it feels more comfortable?  
This Advent we must allow ourselves to dream and we must be brave enough to say to God: “I am listening to you, O God, and how I am part of your dream! You, O God, are welcome here in my dreaming!” Our generous God, who dreamt of being one with us and made it happen, continues to dream with us inviting us to pay attention to what is being whispered in our dreams and proclaimed in the wilderness. Are we paying attention? That is what this season is about. What are we waiting for?

God of dreams,
you continue to give us messages
through prophets of long ago and prophets of today.
May we attune our ears, eyes and heart 
to our dreams and how you speak in them.
Move us beyond our comfort zones
to the valleys which need to be raised
and the paths which need to be made smooth.
Fill our minds and hearts with your message
so, in turn we may share it with those on the journey.
Amen.

Photo Credits: Sharon McCutcheon and Daiwei Lu

Encountering Advent

    In a reflection given earlier this year, Jesuit Peter Bisson described vowed religious women and men as “artisans of encounter,” I believe that this easily describes all believers. It is an image which has stayed with me and I would like to offer it as launching point for this Advent.

    The very fact that this season is marked each year to give us time to reflect on and remember that God transcended the heavenly realms and chose to be with the created world is in itself enough to sit with for the twenty-seven days of Advent. God desired the perfect love of the Trinitarian community to continue to expand. We are the privileged ones caught up in this overflowing gift. We receive this gift so freely and in so many ways and yet we resist it, give it parameters and make rules for it, trapping it, so that it feels caged and guarded, not soaring and joyful.

    In the new movie “tick, tick… BOOM!” the life of musical theatre artist Jonathan Larson is captured in song. In the finale song he sings, “Cages or wings, which do you prefer? Ask the birds. Fear or love, baby? Don’t say the answer. Actions speak louder than words.” The invitation of Advent for all the people of God can be heard in this song. Are we going to remained caged and fear-filled with our guarded images of God or are we willing to find our wings and truly encounter God?  Are we willing to break free allowing our actions to show forth that God’s love wasn’t just in a yes of a woman centuries ago, in a stable one night, in a message by a beatitude toting preacher or on a cross and empty tomb one weekend? God’s love transcends these moments for God is again and again made known in our daily living (no matter how ordinary).

    Joy is relational and communal. Our actions this season and in each season of the year should attune us to this truth. Advent is a good time to evaluate how we have done over the course of the past year. New year resolutions are useless if we don’t look to what we have done, failed to do and what we can still do. Advent, as the start of the liturgical year, is a great opportunity to reflect on our living. How has joy been a part of my life this past year? Have I been an artisan of joy? Have my actions built community? Where do I need to be a community building artisan? What parts of my relationship with God have I left caged and locked down? How can I soar to new heights with God on the wings of hope? Am I an artisan of prayer (this is always a good way to build community)?

    Advent will never grow old if we allow ourselves to be caught off guard by wonder, joy and community. We build community in little ways; with the kindnesses this season has come to know but beyond these kindnesses into the living of the hard parts of life. This past year has had its challenges and obstacles we can’t deny this reality. We have seen the definition of community broaden and maybe even redefined. This may have left us reeling or allowed us to finally trust that we don’t need to be caged. God has never thought we were any ways.

    Let’s dare to be artisans of encounter this Advent. Like those artisans before us such as Isaiah, Zechariah, Elizabeth, John the Baptist, Mary, Joseph, the magi, the shepherds, angels, saints known only to us, people who blazed the trail or soared on wings for us and so on; let us be encounters of the Divine. With the wonder of this season, the story of God’s desire to be one with us, and with people from all walks of life willing to be community builders, how can we not lift up our heads and be artisans of joy and artisans of encounter this Advent? The choice is ours. How will we walk in Advent light?

 

God of Encounters,

You invite us into relationship,

desire for us to build community,

and encourage us to be artisans of joy and life.

During this Advent we accept these opportunities

as we “lift up our soul” (Psalm 25)

to you who are our Truth, Way and Life.

Our eyes and hearts are open to encounters with you

no matter where our Advent steps may lead.

 

Amen.

Photo credits: Robson Hatsukami Morgan and Ole Witt

The Kingdom of Christ the King

“Your kingdom come…”

we pray this line many times,

and yet we wonder

where your kingdom is.

 

If we pay attention

to message of Jesus

your kingdom is

yes, in our hearts

yet it is encountered

with the poor,

with the homeless,

with the hungry.

 

Your kingdom is

where heartache is,

where recovery begins,

where forgiveness is known.

 

Your kingdom is

when we listen to each other,

when respect is given,

when life is honored.

 

Your kingdom is

what calls us to community,

what causes us to see anew,

what our foundation is built upon.

 

Your kingdom is

not about majesty and prestige,

rather it is about humility and tenderness;

two valuable qualities we often overlook.

 

Awaken your kingdom in our hearts again

for it seems we may have lost sight of it.

Awaken your kingdom in our hearts again

so, we may build it up

with the dignity, beauty and truth it is.

Awaken your kingdom in our hearts again

here and now,

among all peoples,

in all of creation,

now and forever.

Amen.

 

 

 

Photo Credit: Youssef Aboutaleb

Words of Life for Us

 

There is an interesting line in the gospel of Mark in which Jesus says: "Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away” (Mark 13.31). We can often focus on the endings of things or the uncertainty around us but Jesus reminds us to focus on his words which are everlasting. As we continue to navigate the challenges of our times let us be reminded of some of his life-giving words.

Do not be afraid. (Luke 12)

Peace I give you. (John 20)

I am the bread of life, living water, good shepherd, gate. (John 6, John 4, John 10)

I am the vine you are the branches. (John 15)

I am the way, the truth and the life. (John 14)

Blessed are the children of God. (Matthew 5)

Love God and love neighbour. (Mark 12)

Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there. (Matthew 18)

Our Father.. your kingdom come… your will be done.. give us this day our daily bread…forgive us… (Luke 11)

We need to be reminded of these words and how they are infused into our living. It seems to me that the words of Jesus offer us hope for our time and encouragement for the challenges we face. It seems to me that Jesus assures us with his words that he will indeed “be with us until the end of the ages” (Matthew 28.20). It seems to me that when we feel discouraged or fear tries to creep in, we are offered courage, light and peace for the journey.

Wherever we are right now on the journey; whether it is joy-filled, burdensome, draining, or content, Jesus is right here with us and is constantly speaking his words of life to us.

Are we listening? It’s easy to be distracted. Maybe it’s time to put down the phone, turn off the television and stop doing so we can hear his voice.

Which words of Jesus are speaking to you this day? Spend some time with these words (read the passage once, sit with it for several minutes, pray with it – there are countless ways) let them be nourishment and life for the days ahead. They are meant for us, for our well-being, soul health and our life. The best part is they will remain always.

 

 

 

Photo Credit: Priscilla du Preez

Peace. Let There Be Peace

When war ravages,
when nations dissolve,
when countries turn on each other,
 
Peace. Let there be peace.
 
When cultures clash,
when peoples see only skin color,
when communities divide,
 
Peace. Let there be peace.
 
When families separate,
when homes fall a part,
when dignity is destroyed,
 
Peace. Let there be peace.
 
When friendships breakdown,
when dialogue is shattered,
when hurt runs deep,
 
Peace. Let there be peace.
 
When my heart is anxious,
when my living feels violent,
when my ways cause brokenness,
 
Peace. Let there be peace.
 
When I am entrenched in sadness,
when I stand alone,
when I can’t hear the truth in my heart,
 
Peace. Let there be peace.
 
Jesus said: Peace I leave you,
my peace I give you,
not as the world does.
 
Peace. Let there be peace.
 
Jesus said: do not fear,
do not let your heart be troubled,
not let it be afraid.
 
Peace. Let there be peace.
 
Our world, our nation,
our communities, our homes,
our heart, ourselves
seeking...
 
Peace. Let there be peace.
 
As Remembrance Day 2021 draws near let us be attentive that peace is the desire of all people. As we remember those who faced the tragedy of war and those who still do today; as we remember those who deal with the outcomes of war – the poor, refugees, migrants, children; as we remember those who hurt now because of wars past, wars now or wars within; let us pray for peace. Peace in hearts, in homes, in nations, in the world; let there be peace.

We are offered this peace each day in ways far greater than we may ever know. Let the words of Jesus which promise us this peace settle into our living, let us be attentive and work for peace in the ways we can in our part of the world. Let it arise with gratitude and respect.
 
Peace. Let there be peace. 

 

 

 

Photo Credit:  Laurentiu Iordache

With Saints and Souls, We Declare Love for the Lord

 

I love you, O Lord, my strength,

the saints and sages of ages past declared

with works and words and prayer,

showing us how close God is in our day

reminding us that this is heaven’s way.

 

I love you, O Lord, my strength,

our beloved loved ones gone before us

join in this mighty, life-giving verse,

as they lived their lives discovering this truth

regardless their agedness or their youth.

 

I love you, O Lord, my strength,

is our daily prayer and statement of faith

as we strive to live pointing to Christ,

trusting in this love for the journey of now

regardless of our place, our creed or our vow.

 

I love you, O Lord, my strength,

the undertone of the November Feasts

where we honor the saints and souls

who have journeyed this winding life path,

living out the convictions of their baptismal bath.

 

I love you, O Lord, my strength,

for you are my all for always

in the days long and days short,

in the joys and sorrows that are part,

you are with me in the endings and each start.

 

I love you, O Lord, my strength,

let this be in all voices raised

on All Saints Day and All Souls Day

and each of the days this month and beyond

which call us all in love to always respond.

 

I love you, O Lord, my strength. (Psalm 18)

 

 

 

                Photo Credits:

Dewang Gupta

Hudson Hintze

Be Bold: Write the Story of Your Life

This past week I was handed the gift of sitting in a classroom being part of a one week intensive about storytelling and how God continually invites us to be a co-author. It was a time of renewal and fueling as it was also holy and sacred ground. To sit at the feet of young men and women and hear them tell their stories – even if brief – was simply awe-filled and wonder-struck. It was powerful and palpable. It showed to me how God indeed is writing the story of our lives. We are not just characters waiting to enter the page, rather we are writing with God. We pick up our pens as we listen to the voice of Love in our brokenness, in our joys, in our journeying and in our being. To hear stories of great pain and great joy, to hear stories of amazing discovery and personal growth, to hear stories of redemption and bravery this past week was a gift of seeing scripture brought to life and woven into our very story.

I was in awe of my friend who led the intensive, how he gently challenged the group and how he probed at their hearts. He himself was vulnerable and open sharing his pains and joys. I heard him weave stories from his life with scripture and heard him take keys words from the students and weave them into the truths of their heart. He was giving them the language that God is using in their life and my own spirit was lifted and bubbled up with awareness of God’s nearness. How often do we fail to hear or see the words that God is writing in life? How often do we discard them as false or too demanding? How often do we allow ourselves to get caught up in another story instead of our own? These questions circled through me as I sat and listened, shared and told stories, as we shared insights and prayed. God continues to write our story with us – how amazing is this? It truly is and yet it is so seemingly ordinary.

In the gospel for the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time we hear the story of Bartimaeus, the blind beggar (Mark 10.46-52). He knows how his story has been unfolding but he believes he can co-write it in new ways. Filled with courage as he hears Jesus is near, he calls out to him: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” The response from Jesus is powerful, “What do you want me to do for you?” In other words, what story do we need to write? What can we do to continue this story in a new way? What I hear in you is deep faith are you willing to go deeper?

The boldness of Bartimaeus is the boldness we each carry. Are we willing to say to Jesus, “I know God is writing my story and I’m willing to write with God”? This is the faith of Bartimaeus. When we ask this question with faith our eyes are opened to deep truths, new story lines, new characters and refueling for the journey ahead. We are with Bartimaeus and follow Jesus with a ready heart, surrendering to the story which we co-author with Christ and God and the Holy Spirit. Are we brave enough to ask Christ to co-author with us, even if this means writing a new story?  

“In the beginning, once upon a time, or one fine day,” it doesn’t matter where we start. We are invited to do so again today. The blank page is here, the pen is ready, our eyes are being opened, let us write the God-love story which is our life. Bartimaeus reminds us to simply be bold enough to start. With our sight restored let us trust Christ our co-author and write. 

 

Photo Credits:

Etienne Girardet

Jan Kahanek 

Moment of Autumn Grace

The autumn sun is the perfect hue of yellow masked gently by a whisp of clouds. I slide into my long-time favorite handmade shades of brown and taupe sweater and my pull on a simple grey toque. I step out into the autumn morning. 

The air is cool but not cold. It has that perfect tinge of alertness and that freshness that reminds me of hanging the quilt out to be refreshed. The air has no movement yet it envelopes me like a gentle hug. As I take my first steps for a morning walk, I notice the deepness of the browns of the leaves and the roughness of the bare branches of the trees which have shed their summer beauty. This only seems to highlight the boldness of the mighty evergreens. I also notice the faint sounds of a busy town already a hum with the day. This is not a distraction from the beauty of this moment rather it serves as a reminder of the fullness of life. 

I continue on my walk across the grass, noticing it’s varying shades of still summer green to dull winter yellow.  I notice the gentle blue of the sky and the whisps of a few more clouds. I come back to noticing the air around me – it is gentle, present and holding me. As I look up from my steps, I notice a deer on the path ahead gazing at me. Our eyes meet. Her bright eyes alive with wonder, her brown coat almost hidden amongst the trees and grass. Quickly she dashes off into the safety of these trees. I continue on my walk making my way back to the house aware of my steps upon the earth and this moment. My heart filled with gratitude whispers “this is a “perfect” moment.” I realize for these moments that I am present; this is what it must mean to simply be. “Praise God from whom all blessings flow” crosses my lips, I look up to the heavens and smile. 

As I settle back inside and enjoy a warm cup of spiced tea; sipping from my favorite mug, I realize my breathing is even and relaxed, my energy restored as I step into the calls of this day knowing that the “steadfast love of the Lord is present and in this I place my hope” (Psalm 33).

As we continue on into autumn, I pray that you will find the time and make the time to step into the gift of creation. Allow our sister Mother Earth to fill your mind, your heart and your soul with a “perfect” God moment to simply be.

Continued Autumn Blessings.

Thanksgiving: Always Gratitude

 

 

Gratitude can mean different things for different people,

     at different moments in each of our lives.

    

Right now, some people are grateful to be alive

     while others don’t even recognize this gift.

 

Awareness of the blessings that we have each day

     should awaken us to those who go without and our response.

 

Thankfulness is a life-long journey

     which transforms who we are and how we are to others.

 

Instead of counting the worries and “don’t haves” in our life

     if we focus on the freedoms and “do haves” we see our riches.

 

Turning our attention to others is the way we build community

     everyone deserves respect and dignity even if we disagree.

 

Understanding that for some it is sports and food

     which bring about words of thanks on their lips.

 

Dancing, serving, the arts, culture and a life of faith

     brings about realms of thankfulness for others.

 

Everyone has something for which to give thanks

     again we do so this Thanksgiving with gratitude.

 

 

Generous God,

as we pause and give thanks this Thanksgiving Weekend,

we rejoice that your love and mercy are always in abundance.

You are with us in our want and needs,

you are with us in our joys and contentment,

and for this we give You thanks.

As we gather at table or gather with friends

or spend time in creation

we raise a thankful hymn of praise

for all our blessings this day and all our days,

for you desire nothing more than

to love us all the days of our life.

Amen.

 

Photos Credits:

Ann

Timothy Eberly

Dear Brother Francis

October 2021

My Dear Brother Francis,

    You are quoted as saying, “Let us begin, brothers, to serve God. Let us begin and let us make progress, because up to now we have made too little progress.” This little phrase has been running through my mind, my heart and even my soul over the past few weeks. You said these words near your death challenging your brothers. Now some eight centuries later I sit with them, listening to your wisdom and they challenge me.

    Let us begin to serve God. Yes, let us here and now in this time and place. Francis, this is hard to do in this time and place. Our world is so topsy-turvy as of late and I’m not sure if I have the right words or actions in my serving God. I know that I must continually come to see God in my sisters, my brothers and in all of creation, but it must be more than simply seeing, it must involve action. I feel my words are weak and my actions inadequate. How do I serve God? I ask myself this question because your words to your brothers “we have made too little progress” is a truth I ponder.

    Our sister Mother Earth is calling out in pain, and I don’t know how to respond. I desire to make good steps to help be part of her healing. I desire to again simplify my living so to seek the beauty she offers me each day as means of connecting with God. I feel if I can honor her, I will indeed see glimpses of the divine and in turn serve God. My progress here has been too slow. I heed your wisdom in seeing creation as our sisters and brothers. How did you do it? How did you see their divine nature beyond their temporal substance? I’m no scientist, and I know you were not, so this must mean wonder and awe was your navigator. Francis, my brother, tell me again about the wonder and awe you lived with so that I can bravely begin again to serve God by living in tune with creation.

    The church is at a crossroads, and it seems that the word progress makes its members squirm with uncertainty and frustration. We the people of God called to be the body of Christ seem to be getting stuck in unnecessary details where we choose division over unity. I sometimes feel trapped like I’m walking a tightrope in how to respond. I desire to be an advocate for those who feel separated and alienated from the beauty of this community. My heart breaks for those who have been left out in the cold or hurt by the church. I think that we will only move forward if we acknowledge each other’s pain by listening to each other, so as to strengthen the bonds of humanity. Francis, my brother, tell me again about the ways you challenged the church with your simplicity and your desire for people to encounter the love of God so that I can bravely begin again to serve God as a herald of hope in the church.

    Then there are the many relationships we live in and encounter. Like with you what began as a small band of brothers grew, the relationships changed and were tested, I too find this in my relationships. It seems that over the past few months I have had to evaluate my relationships, reviewing how I am in them and what they need or mean. I am reminded that in some ways I must begin again with each encounter for we are constantly growing, changing and seeking. Francis, my brother, tell again about the ways you were present for your brothers and for those beyond the circle of your brothers, how you were present for the lepers and the poor so that I can bravely begin again to serve God in the relationships of my daily living. 

    Finally, dear brother Francis, I ponder this vocation that I continue to journey in and grow in. The ever-changing world around me is making me more attentive to the authenticity my vocation demands. To be present for people, reminding them of God’s deep love and mercy. To listen well to how God is speaking to my heart. To listen well to how God is speaking in the heart of others. To continually address the false power that I try to hold so that I can freely be who I am before God. This is the authenticity my vows demand. Being a religious brother in these difficult times can sometimes feel like I’m out of touch; in those moments I can hear your voice whispering, “it is time to begin again.” Francis, my brother, tell again about beginning again and making progress, for I think I’m starting to understand that this has more to do more with my heart than anything else. It is time for me to bravely begin again, I choose to do so knowing I have you as a companion walking with me in the footsteps of Christ.

Peace, my brother. 

May peace and goodness bless us all.

Happy Feast Day to you (October 4)!

Your brother,

Michael

The Dawning of Autumn

Autumn dawns,

greeting me.

I pause.

Captured by the season change

as I lift my eyes so is my heart.

I stand still.

Immersed in color.

Immersed in light.

Awe fills me.

I ask myself:

what is consuming me?

what is changing in me?

what am I immersed in?

Autumn dawns,

God’s goodness present

filling me with peace,

showing me God’s path now,

awakening me to God’s closeness,

guiding me into new ways.

I ask myself:

where do I need to be a bearer of light?

how do I need to be in this season?

what am I harvesting?

Autumn dawns,

a new season

in creation,

in life,

in me.

I stand still.

Immersed in light.

Immersed in this liminal time.

Divine Love fills me.

Photos: MJP