Rains fall,
Flowers bloom,
Grass grows,
Sun shines,
Praised be God!
Summer unfolds,
Gardens produce,
Days linger,
Stars sparkle,
Praised be God!
Teams play,
Fans cheer,
Barbecues sizzle,
Communities gather,
Praise God!
Quiet pauses,
Prayers prayed,
Reflections stir,
Pondering heart,
Praise God!
Photo Credit: Nicholas Sorrenti
the song of birds awakening the morning,
the vibrancy of grass, buds and blooms,
the warmth of the air filling this day,
lifts up my heart in praise to God.
With St. Francis of Assisi, I give praise to God
for all creation which reminds me of God’s presence.
I sing with praise and gratitude for creation
pondering where it invites me to notice
beauty, truth and life at work in the daily demands.
With St. Francis, I cry out “Be praised my Lord”
for my sisters and brothers in creation
in this season and in each season,
for through them I am drawn closer to You,
reminded of the depth of the goodness in life.
Be praised my Lord for You are ever creating
inviting us to join You and to appreciate creation.
Be praised my Lord for You are ever generous
in the unfolding of beauty, truth and life
and for this I give thanks today and always.
Photo Credit: Jennifer R.
It’s a Thursday afternoon,
a gentle breeze whispers through the day,
it carries with it the sounds of
hammers building a house,
cheers of a rugby game,
a school bell ringing,
calling birds guiding in the sky,
wind chimes tolling,
Lord, you send forth Your Spirit
renewing the face of the earth.
It’s a Thursday afternoon
around me life is bursting
it carries with it sights of
a grandmother walking her grandchild,
flowers bursting with color,
coworkers stopping for a coffee,
an elderly man walking with his canes,
pausing in a nearby church,
Lord, you send forth Your Spirit
renewing the face of the earth.
It’s a Thursday afternoon,
the daily movements of life continue
it carries with it the beauty of
a friend calling to say hi,
documents coming together,
prayer being whispered,
enjoying fresh fruit,
a walk in the unfolding greens of spring,
Lord, you send forth Your Spirit
renewing the face of the earth.
It’s a Thursday afternoon,
a Monday morning, a Saturday evening,
it carries with it the unknown of Pentecost
God breathing on us,
God breathing through us,
the fire of the Spirit propelling us forward,
the fire of the Spirit enkindling in us life,
gifts given for each day,
Lord, you send forth Your Spirit
renewing the face of the earth.
Come Holy Spirit, today, tomorrow,
again and again in the ordinary,
again and again in the extraordinary,
in the known and unknown,
for the unknown and known,
for the world, for the earth, for all humanity,
for every tribe, every people, every place
Come Holy Spirit.
Lord, you send forth Your Spirit
renewing the face of the earth.
Depending on where you are and what day this is, spring (or winter’s last attempt) wind may be blowing in all directions. It is blowing where I am today and it a strong wind.
Growing up on the Canadian Prairies I have experienced a fair share of windy days. I am thinking about the odd pace and the force of wind. Walking in wind is a different type of gazing. I could not help but think: do I ever appreciate Brother Wind? This reflective poem is what stirred from my time of gazing of Brother Wind. If one can ever gaze at wind.
Is it a preparation for Pentecost?
Brother Wind why do you blow so much?
Is it to remind me of the movement of the Spirit?
Is it to whip me into solidarity with creation?
Is it to blow me around so I must bump into others?
Brother Wind why do you blow so much?
Is it to remind me the Spirit of God is renewing the earth?
Is it to whip me into the action of care for creation?
Is it to blow me toward those I want to reject?
Brother Wind why do you blow so much?
Is it to remind me you whisper truths of creation?
Is it to whip up into my ears the cry of the poor?
Is it to blow me in the direction of deep truth?
Brother Wind why do you blow so much?
Is it so I must look differently at the world around me?
Is it so I must cover my mouth so I can listen more?
Is it so I must shelter and be and take note?
Brother Wind why do you blow so much?
Is it so I may be reminded of the freedom of all?
Is it so I may let go of empty words and actions?
Is it so I may trust in the power of God and not my own?
Brother Wind blow where you will I can’t control you.
Brother Wind blow where you will I feel your invitation.
Brother Wind blow where you will but please give me space.
____
“Brother Wind” – is inspired by St. Francis and his Canticle of the Creatures
“Renewing the earth” – Psalm 104.30
“Care for creation,” “truths of creation,” “cry of the poor” – are reflective of Laudato Si’
Love came in the announcement
from the angel.
Love came in the stable
birth.
Love came in the preaching of
good news and repentance.
Love came in the healings and
miracles.
Love came in a meal shared and gift of service shown.
Love came in the depth of
self-giving.
Love came on the cross, every
ounce poured out.
Love came in the darkness of
the tomb.
Love came on a Sunday morning
with resurrected new life
conquering death.
Love met weeping Mary
Magdalen restoring her hope.
Love met disheartened Peter
restoring his hope.
Love met the saddened Emmaus Disciples
restoring their hope.
Love met doubting Thomas
restoring his hope.
Love meets us restoring our
hope,
calling us to new life,
awakening our true faith,
and enlivening our expanding
love.
Alleluia is our song of love
for Love has come
conquering death forever
and bringing us life eternal!
Alleluia! Christ is Risen!
Photo Credit:
Emmaus Disciples - Friary in Malta
Love has a way
of showing up
in unexpected ways
and in unexpected places.
Love has been crucified
because of those
who feared Love.
Love is stronger than
darkness and death
trampling it with
faith and hope.
Notice Love this week.
What will the ultimate story of Love reveal to you?
Will you let Love transform you?
Lord Jesus,
you are Love,
guide our steps this week
as we walk with you
from death to new life.
Amen.
Photo Credit: Grant Whitty
What if during this Lent we actually
Fasted, gave Alms and Prayed?
What if we actually
Fasted not just from food
but from all the other vices our body likes to hold?
What if we actually
gave Alms not because it is something to do
but because it connects us to a real person
and their story?
What if we actually
Prayed not because we need to
but with intention and in new ways throughout the season?
Would it make a difference?
Would the world change?
Would our hearts be transformed?
Maybe not in ways we want, but in ways we fail to see.
Maybe not in ways we want, but in ways we don’t want to see.
Maybe not in ways we want, but in ways we need to see.
This Lent,
When we get going along and hit a roadblock
we will through with the detours.
When we get so far along and want to quit
we will look to others for strength and encouragement.
When we get deep into it and feel empty
we will allow ourselves to feel this and pay attention.
What is meeting us?
Who is calling us?
Where is our heart?
Lent is not an easy season,
it’s not supposed to be,
but can we be brave enough to enter the journey
and stay on it the whole season?
This may mean detours, roadblocks, new paths,
different terrain, unexpected pauses or regular routines
but it will be worth the journey.
It will make Easter different in unexpected ways.
What if we enter the journey?
What if we are being called?
What If?
Photo Credit: Steven Brown
This Winter Ordinary Time between Epiphany (or the end of Christmas) and Ash Wednesday, I believe is a time of invitation. An invitation to be, to ponder, and to evaluate.
The invitation to be is an opportunity to incorporate time of rest, time of not needing to produce. It is a time of simply being present to the day and what comes. Noticing winter in its glory and fullness. Noting how we are in this time and being present to the opportunity to dare I say, slow down, like the earth’s current state. In the ordinary time of winter to be is to breathe, is to pause, is to ponder.
The invitation to ponder is powerful in these winter weeks. To watch the night transition to day is a moment of ponder. It is one of the invitations to ponder life, to take note of where one is and how one is in this season. It is a time to ponder where and how one is connecting with God and what God is inviting one to see and hear. The ordinary time of winter is invitation to ponder life and how we are, and what are our desires are for the next seasons and to evaluate the journey.
The invitation to evaluate is not about resolutions or goal setting. It is rather about reflecting and noticing one’s gifts. To evaluate is to count the blessings on the journey and what one is looking forward to in the weeks ahead. In evaluating we may notice areas in ourselves which need healing or recall a listening ear or see the changes we have made. We may notice how God is seeking our heart and walking with us as we evaluate how best we can reflect the goodness of God in our life. To evaluate is to celebrate, is to trust, is to give thanks. It is to acknowledge God at work in our life.
May these weeks of Winter Ordinary Time be filled with invitations. May we offer these invitations to others. May we trust God, the great inviter and host, is present. These winter weeks are not the hustle and bustle of holiday time, and they are not the penance of Lent, they are invitation. Let us be attentive!
God,
You who are present in all the seasons of our life,
during this season of Winter Ordinary Time
may we listen to your invitations
to be, to ponder and to evaluate.
In doing so, may we notice
where you are at work in life,
where you are present and
what you are calling out of us
and calling us to be.
May these Winter Ordinary Time days,
be a time of rich awareness,
as we journey with you
paying heed to your personal
and life-giving invitations.
Amen.
Photo Credit: Yaron Cohen
“Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him.” Matthew 3.13
In the baptism of Jesus, we come to see the gift of being called in love. Called in love to be who God created us to be and to live our lives with conviction.
God,
you who are the source of all life
in your Son Jesus
we come to know life,
we come to know love,
we come to know you.
In our baptism
We put on your Son,
we embrace his life,
we embrace how he loved,
we embrace how you love us.
By the pouring out
of your Spirit and of water
we rise up in splendour,
we become heralds of good news,
we reflect you into the world.
Guide our steps
in the seasons of this year as
we desire to be life-giving,
we desire to grow well,
we desire to be one with you.
Bles us, we pray,
for we trust in your grace and mercy
today, tomorrow and always.
Amen.
Photo Credit: Dilip Poddar
Have you ever noticed how much light is incorporated into music, poetry, seasons, and decorations?
Not only Christmas carols and songs incorporate the theme of light, everything from hymns, country to rock to rap include its qualities. There is something about light which we connect with and seem to understand.
Poetry uses light to draw us in and speak to our journey. Creating images and rhymes which stir our heart and give us hope.
The seasons in their ever-changing ways draw us into light, whether it is sunrises early in summer or late in winter, or the way the light strikes a field, or the varying colors of light which fill the spring.
And decorations for all holidays include light. Not only Christmas lights and stars, but garden lights for summer, fire works for July 1st, jack-o-lanterns at Halloween and light up Easter eggs.
We need light!!!
Pope Leo is his address for World Day of Peace just a mere four days ago, said: “The contrast between darkness and light is not only a biblical image describing the labor pains of a new world being born; it is also an experience that unsettles us and affects us amid the trials we face in our historical circumstances. In order to overcome the darkness, it is necessary to see the light and believe in it.” He added, “This is a call that Jesus’ disciples are invited to live in a unique and privileged way; yet it also finds its way into every human heart.” (how beautiful and powerful is his simple statement)
No wonder in the coming of God to earth in the birth of his son Jesus, the star gets a proper place of mention and its gifts called forth to shine, to lead, to point the way! Light calls us to life, to the ways of life, to encountering the Author of Life, who also shaped the stars. The scriptures we have heard today speak of light, because they are pointing to Jesus – the child born for us, to fill us with light and to be heralds of his light. As Pope Leo reminded us in overcoming darkness, we must “see light and believe in it.” Our Light is Jesus and we are his disciples shining for him.
Just like the magi of long ago, we too must follow the light of Jesus and then when we encounter it in moments grand and moments ordinary, we must declare what we see in the light and live in it. This is how we are disciples, to be bearers of light. To preach the gospel with our lives, to find ways to instill light in the darkness which our humanity often chooses to dwell in. To be like the nations coming to his light and the kings to his brightness, which the prophet Isaiah prophesized, we must continue to seek his star, to see his light in our living.
To see and be radiant, could be considered part of the description of being a disciple. The magi could be considered among the first disciples of Jesus. They encountered him at his most vulnerable moment in life and yet believed he was the Messiah. They offered him their gifts, their lives transformed and then returned to their homes transformed and living in his light. Is this not what this feast of Epiphany calls us to? To meet Jesus, see Jesus, encounter his light, let it transform us and then live from this transformed state as a disciple of his. St. Paul in his letter to the Philippians reminds us: “(Do everything without grumbling or arguing) you will shine… like the stars in the sky as you hold firm to the word of life.” (Philippians 2.14-15)
The Word of life, born in Bethlehem centuries ago and yet we still adore him.
The light of Jesus, shining into our life and we go forth carrying this light.
The child of Bethlehem, unknown to many and yet he is our light in the darkness.
The Author of life, born among us and for us and leading us home by his light.
May we arise and shine like the stars, for our light has come and is woven into our every heartbeat. May we be brave enough to travel unknown roads this year which lead us to Jesus in new ways so we will go forth on new paths to manifest his light. Jesus, the Light of lights is guiding us always in all ways from here to his kingdom home.
One of my favorite Christmas songs is Winter Star by Johnny Reid, it is a beautiful song for Epiphany. I invite you to listen to it this week.
Epiphany Blessings!
Photo Credit: Mitchell Luo
Creator God,
You who created time and know time,
as one year ends and new one begins
we come to you with praise and petition.
We praise you for your unending love,
even when we don’t see it well.
We praise you for your creation,
how it invites us to wonder and awe.
We praise you for bonds we share,
which reminds us of the need for connection.
We praise you for blessings great and small,
may we not lose sight of all we truly have.
We pray for our world hurt and broken,
heal our greedy and selfish hearts.
We pray for those who are suffering,
teach us to be your hands and heart.
We pray for the children of the world,
may they know hope and joy.
We pray for peace in countries and hearts,
help us to build a culture of life together.
As we bid farewell to this year,
we do so with gratitude for gifts and blessings,
we enjoyed and delighted in through the seasons.
We do so seeking mercy and forgiveness
for the times we did not live well.
We do so holding memories
of moments which shaped us along the way.
We do so with hope
which was our companion and still accompanies us.
As we look ahead to the new year
we do so trusting you are the way, the truth and the life.
We do so asking for your light
to guide our steps and brighten our ways.
We do so with eagerness
beginning again each day.
We do so with kindness
may we build your kingdom well this year.
We ask you hear our end of year and year beginning prayer
for you are our hope, our love, our life, our source,
now and forever.
Amen.
Credit: Jon Tyson
joy of Christmas
with St. Francis of Assisi,
may hope
guide your steps,
may peace
fill your home,
may joy meet
you on the journey,
may love
fill your heart.
When Advent days
have slipped away
and the Great Feast
is on the horizon
and there is still
more prayers to pray,
more waiting to do,
more words to ponder,
what are we to do O Lord?
When Advent days
have become chaotic
and there is still a longing
to be patient,
to simply be,
to fast from the indulging,
what are we to do O Lord?
When Advent days
have not been filled with
as much giving from the heart,
depth of prayer,
and generosity of spirit,
what are we to do O Lord?
O Lord, you invite us to remember
in this season
you have been whispering to us
peace and hope,
a deeper joy,
and now your assuring love.
O Lord, you invite us to remember
your light still comes
among it all,
both done and undone,
and increases the light
of our daily living.
Still, what are we to do O Lord?
You invite us, O Lord, to trust
and with the choirs of angels
to raise our voices
with confidence to declare:
O Come, Emmanuel
dwell in our hearts!
And our hearts can whisper:
Rejoice! Rejoice for the time is near!
Photo Credit: Ricky LK
What do you hear and see?
In this Advent Season our senses are often overwhelmed with much goodness. In this goodness what do we hear and see? Do we see the blind receiving site? Do we see the lame walking? Do we see lepers cleansed? Do we hear the deaf speaking? Do we see the dead regaining life? Do we see the poor receiving good news?
It is in our “actions and words” these truths come to light. However, this common phrase of “actions and words” is now stack up with other common phrase “love it” and we lose sight of everyday miracles. Yet the truth is it is in our actions and words which transform and bring hope and joy. Everyday miracles which are the base of common joy.
What have I heard and seen to prove this?
I have seen a heart blinded by hurt seek healing.
I have seen the burden of uncertainty lifted from someone who now is no longer lamed.
I have seen how forgiveness and reconciliation have cleansed the leprosy of my own life.
I have heard the laughter of a brother and the giggle of a child deafness vanished.
I have seen the death of addictions dissolved from lives and new life gained.
I have heard the gratitude of the poor who have received hope and dignity.
Where you may ask?
In individuals, in families, in communities, in neighbours, in parishes, in our country.
As our common humanity continues to be torn apart by hour increasing greed, false fears, and gullible lies how are we being heralds of hope and bearers of joy? What do we hear and see? Do you hear what I hear? Do you see what I see?
Each new day is the chance to live the gospel and see the power of its goodness, hope and joy take root. We are messengers sent. Advent is the start of the living out the gospel for the whole year.
Let us go forth boldly.
This reflection is inspired by: Matthew 11.2-11
Photo Credit: Edi Libedinsky
A voice cries out:
Prepare!
And we say:
There is another party to attend!
A voice cries out:
Prepare!
And we say:
There are more cookies to bake!
A voice cries out:
Prepare!
And we say:
There is more shopping to do!
A voice cries out:
Prepare!
And we say:
For what?
A voice cries out:
Prepare the way of the Lord.
And we say?
Let us be brave in this Second Week of Advent
to prepare our hearts matching the preparations
of our homes and celebrations.
Come, O Come Emmanuel,
let us not lose sight of you!
Photo Credit: Markus Spiske
In unexpected turns and unnecessary twists,
In darkest nights and dullest moments,
In waiting patiently and struggling to listen,
In longing hearts and wondering minds,
Come, O Come, Emmanuel.
In the year ending already,
In the new beginnings,
In the regular of routines,
In the endless invitations,
Come, O Come, Emmanuel.
In hopeful journeys,
In painful goodbyes,
In longed-for changes,
In welcoming words,
Come, O Come, Emmanuel.
In these few short weeks,
In moments brief,
In the here and now,
In Advent days,
Come, O Come, Emmanuel.
Photo Credit: Waldemar Brandt
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The first lay brother of the order to canonized, the city of San Diego named after him, miracles accredited to him, today the church remembers St. Didacus of Alcala. We remember him not because of these things but because he was a witness to the gospel and lived his life with a constant desire to serve Christ in all he met.
It is not easy to give witness to the gospel. It is not easy to serve Christ in everyone we meet. We can all share stories about this in our life. We fall short, we let our will take over, we boast about the work done and great feats accomplished, we, like the disciples at the last supper, debate who is the greatest. How easily we lose sight of Jesus among us and the call of the kingdom.
St. Didacus reminds to reorder our perspective. When we begin to count the works, we have done, he reminds us to serve with a humble heart. When we fail to love well, he reminds us to not become trapped by false hopes. As a simple brother he does this because his heart was always focused on Christ. He went about his living with Christ before him. He served the people of God with a heart fixed on Christ. Do we?
I know I struggle to keep my life centered on this core value and essential foundation to being a Franciscan brother. And yet in each Eucharist Christ meets me, meets us and strengthens us. He gives us his heart, his very self and reorientates our vision. May we be brave enough to allow our hearts to be reorientated. May we be brave enough to be humble in all we do. May we be brave enough to know we can begin again each day to give witness to the gospel and serve Christ in all we meet, knowing we have St. Didacus as a brother and Christ with us.
St. Didacus, pray for us.
Art by Francisco de Zurbarán - Own work, Public Domain
A day set aside to give thanks on purpose. On this Thanksgiving I wonder if we have considered how our heart is? Is it full of gratitude? Is it aware of blessings? Is it just considering it to be just another day with the bonus of a bigger meal?
Philemon of Gaza, a monk from the sixth century wrote: “Ingratitude is a serious spiritual malady that affects the heart and soul. Ingratitude is a kind of interior leprosy” (Meditations on Luke’s Gospel). To be truly thankful, means we know all we have comes from God. Taking note of what we are thankful moves us from ingratitude to gratefulness. Gratitude heals the leprosy of our hearts and interior scars and aligns us again with God; being clothed in God’s goodness (Colossians 3.12-17).
As St. John Chrysostom reminds us, “Our acts of thanksgiving add nothing to God’s happiness, but they unite us more closely to God” (Homilies on Saint Matthew). This being closely united to God is at the heart of letter to the Colossians. To take note of being God’s chosen ones, of our holiness, our belovedness and the call to action declares we are rooted in thankfulness. Not as means of pleasing God, rather united with God and God’s actions of love, mercy and goodness.
On this Thanksgiving Day, as we celebrate the harvest and our many blessings may we carry gratitude into the places we are called to carry the gospel. May we have a heart filled with gratitude, not perfection, rather gratitude returning all praise and glory to God. May we live as God’s chosen ones, not boastful and prideful, rather with open hands to receive Christ who poured himself out for us. Let us give thanks to God from the rising of the sun to its setting (Psalm 113) for all our blessings, now and forever. Amen.
Photo Credit: Priscilla Du Preez
Many of us probably don’t think about our death on a regular basis. In fact, many of us probably avoid the conversation. However, it is good for us to consider “Sister Death” as Francis would say and ponder what would truly be a blessing “at the hour of death.” To consider our sister death, means we open our heart to trust in God and the mercy, compassion and new life only God can offer. To ponder the blessings of the hour when we take our final breath more than likely means we think of certain people.
When Francis lay dying on the eve of October 3, 1226, he desired his brothers who had been with him from the beginning to be closest to him. He also desired the companionship of Lady Jacoba and his sister Clare. He would request his brothers sing to him the Canticle of Creatures. He would request Lady Jacoba to bring cookies. From Clare he would desire prayer, closeness, vision and continued friendship. Clare offered all of these to Francis. She was present to him in his living and dying. She didn’t forget him as he was placed in the grave, rather she became an anchor for the Franciscan family.
I think of St. Clare as we St. Francis on his transitus. I think of her courage earlier in their story to leave everything behind and set a new pattern for living. I think of how she trusted, yes, in God but also in Francis and his vision for gospel living. I think of her compassion toward Francis. I believe she kept him grounded when he was lost in emotions and uncertainty reminding him of his vision in Christ. I think of how after his death she persevered in her leadership seeing through her rule of life being approved just before her meeting of sister death. I think of her friendship with Francis, how “instead of looking at each other, Clare and Francis looked in the same direction… Jesus, poor, humbled and crucified” (Raniero Cantalamessa, O.F.M. Cap.). To look at the poor, humbled, crucified Crist is look at love and the depth of relationship.
Thinking of St. Clare on the Feast of St. Francis, I consider those in my life who continue to show up. Those companions who don’t look to me but look with me toward our final home with hope. Those companions who are not afraid to have the hard conversations and still offer compassion. Those companions who like Clare for Francis, know my heart; it’s brokenness and its hope. Each year as we mark the passing of Francis from this world into the next, I am reminded one day this too will be my moment. I trust like Francis I will have someone like Clare by my side, who will whisper into my ears, “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15.55).
St. Francis, Pope Leo XIII and my Grandfather all hold something in common. It fascinates me to consider this, and I see it as invitation for not only me but all of us. What do they hold in common? The love of this Feast of St. Michael and the Archangels (September 29). We know St. Francis honored this feast by leading into it with a fast, Pope Leo wrote the commonly used Prayer to St. Michael and my Grandfather whose birthday is today always marked this day and carried with him St. Michael as a protector.
All three of these wise men remind us of something important about this feast of St. Michael and the Archangels. They remind us of how the angels are our companions and how they always, always point us to God. This feast isn’t about the angles and their glory, it is about how they point to God, praise God and lead us into the love of God.
Like St. Francis, Pope Leo XIII and my Grandfather, the disciple Nathanael we encounter in the gospel for today (John 1.47-51) was amazed by God’s awesomeness manifested in Jesus, the Son of God. It is from this place of awe, that they and each of us can declare, “In the sight of the angels I will sing your praises, Lord” (Psalm 138). We never know where we encounter God’s messengers and how they protect us and guide us, but we are invited to trust they do so. Another glimpse of the grace of God.
The Archangels know the power of our Triune God and how the love of God conquers evil. This feast day is an opportunity for us to rejoice in the greatness of God, the dwelling of Christ among us and the working of the Holy Spirit. Like St. Francis, Pope Leo XIII and my Grandfather may we be renewed in each Eucharist for the work which is ours to do in the kingdom of our God here and now.
Photo Credit: Manuel Sandoval
