Three Stations of Discipleship

Palm Sunday is this weekend, and it's hard to believe that in another week we will celebrate Easter.  The past few weeks have gone by so quickly with Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI's resignation, the conclave, and the election of Pope Francis.  Though this Lent has been prayerful, it seemed perhaps less penitential with all of the joy of the Papal election and installation over the past two weeks.

Praying the Stations of the Cross on Fridays in Lent is one of the most beautiful devotions in our Catholic tradition outside of the Mass and the Sacraments.  This particular devotion helps the faithful to deeply ponder what Christ did for us that Friday.  He submitted and opened not his mouth.  He paid the ultimate price, though he was without sin.  He gave himself as the sacrifice to cleanse us that we may share eternal life with him.

I just got home from our parish youth group's presentation of their iWitness Stations.  This beautiful presentation on our Lord's Passion includes a reflection on each of the traditional Stations of the Cross accompanied by a video and songs performed by the music ministry.  The images include various statues and paintings depicting each of the stations, as well as still shots of scenes from The Passion of the Christ.  The reflections for each station, composed by members of the youth group, help those in attendance to deeply contemplate Christ's love for us.

Three stations in particular tug at my heart along the Way of the Cross--Jesus Meets His Mother, Simon Helps Jesus Carry His Cross, and Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus.  These three come between the first and second times that Jesus falls.  Tonight in church, I sat with my youngest son near the pictures of those particular stations.  Jesus bore the weight of our sins alone, but he wasn't all alone.  Three individuals in particular are chosen to represent love and friendship to Jesus during his journey to Calvary.

First, of course, is our Blessed Mother.  She stays near to her son through his anguish.  She suffers with him--her "Yes" from the Annunciation carries her through to this moment.  She suffers, yet she trusts her Lord.  The look between mother and son in that moment would have been one of understanding, anguish, but mostly love.  Words wouldn't have been necessary, but her presence was most necessary.

Next, Simon is called upon to help Jesus carry the cross.  The soldiers no doubt feared he would die on the way to Calvary, as he'd already fallen once.  Simon didn't want to be there, but he helped Jesus when the soldiers pressed him into service.  The reflection on the station described Simon as having a change of heart and speaking to Jesus along the road.  We could envision his conversion under the weight of the wood.  Jesus bore our sins upon that cross.  When Simon helps to carry the cross, it seems to represent repentance--our willingness to own and carry our own sins, and then to repent from those sins, in order to walk with Christ.

Third, we see Veronica wipe the face of Jesus.  "None but she would flaunt the Roman."  This station has impressed me since I was a child.  Who was this woman?  Did she know Jesus?  Was she one of the "women and children" who weren't counted among the 5000 men who were fed by the 5 loaves and 2 fish after hearing the Sermon on the Mount?  Veronica is moved to pity for Jesus.  His face was bloodied and swollen.  He carried the cross like a common criminal as he was paraded through the streets, scorned, and mocked.  Yet she loved him and wiped his face tenderly, and he left his beautiful countenance upon her veil and a gift for her love.

Mary, Simon, and Veronica are true disciples.  They all point us to Christ by being Christ-like.  Their role in his Passion teaches us how to love and to serve.  Just as Jesus told the apostles at the last supper that they would be called to serve, these stations teach us how to serve.

Ringing Phones, Snow Day, and Pope Francis on Network TV

We've known since the weekend that Monday into Tuesday would be a March snowstorm.  In light of that information, I should have taken the phone into my room before I went to sleep last night.  Right on cue, the first automated "Cancellation Alert" call rang at 5:40 a.m., so I bolted out of bed across the hall to grab the phone on my office desk. I received five automated calls this morning before 10:30.  Not one person talking with me--just recordings.

Several of the calls gave me useful information.  However, the frequent ringing and the lack of a friendly conversation to follow the "Hello," on my end was somewhat annoying and disappointing. In general, I don't much like talking on the phone.  Modern phones are miserably uncomfortable against my ear.  The children wander in and out asking questions that they wouldn't think about if I were simply looking out the window at the falling snow.  The sight of me holding a phone and speaking into it, somehow, triggers their thoughts and propels them to beseech answers to their pressing questions RIGHT NOW (translated: only when Mom is talking on the phone)!  Needless to say, I didn't speak into the phone this morning after my initial "Hello," so the children paid me no heed.

The best thing about the first call was that it reminded me about Pope Francis' installation Mass, which I caught toward the end of the consecration.  The announcers were quiet and the Latin was beautiful.  Unfortunately, I watched the Mass on network television.  UGH!   Just after the Pater Noster, the commentating resumed.  All through communion and during part of the prayers after communion, the announcer and "a priest with an agenda" rambled incessantly about how this pope just might change the stance on women clergy and condoms.  Are you kidding me?  People were receiving Jesus in the Eucharist, and all they could talk about was sex and throwing Catholic tradition to the wind.  I was repulsed.  According to Wikipedia, there are approximately 41,000 Christian denominations worldwide.  So, if people want gay "marriage," contraception, female clergy, and acceptance of abortion, I imagine one of those denominations fits their needs.  We don't hear a constant plea from the media regarding Muslim beliefs or Hindu beliefs or Buddhist beliefs and how the time has come for these religions to throw caution to the wind and conform to the world.  

Jesus said:

If the world hates you, realize that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you. (John 15:18-19)

Therefore, any Catholic, especially any Catholic priest should respond, "No, of course the Pope will not be changing 2000 years of teaching and tradition."  Instead, the media seeks Catholic representatives who will be likely to twist and turn and speculate so convincingly that uniformed viewers will perceive the misconstrued message as an official Vatican announcement.

Yes, the world hates what does not belong to the world.  The world expects alignment to the arrow on its twisted moral compass.  But Jesus has chosen us out of the world, and has sent the Holy Spirit to guide the Cardinals in electing the Vicar of Christ, Pope Francis to lead His Church.

I trust the Holy Spirit will guide Pope Francis' pontificate.  I trust that his teaching will conform with Catholic tradition and the he will help Rebuild the Church.  As we continue our Lenten journey toward Palm Sunday, Holy Week, Easter, and Mercy Sunday, I am hopeful.  Jesus, I Trust in You.

Habemus Papam, Pope Francis I!

I have already seen one tweet to our new Holy Father that referenced his name--Pope Francis I: Rebuild Our Church!  A Jesuit with a Franciscan name.  Love it!  Initially, I thought perhaps he selected the name for St. Francis Xavier, but when I heard more about Pope Francis, I recognized that the "Poor Man of Assisi" was an obvious name choice for our humble Holy Father, an Argentinian of Italian descent who lived in a simple apartment, taking public transportation, rather than riding in a limo and living in the palace that was at the Cardinal's disposal.  He chooses to live among and for the poor.  I imagine he's honoring both saints with the name choice.

The Holy Spirit prompted me to change my radio station in the car just a moment after the white smoke went up.  I heard the bells pealing at St. Peter's in Rome on the way home from the grocery store.  Generally, I wouldn't have the television on in the afternoon, but as soon as we got home, I told the children to turn on the news.  We watched for the hour after the smoke went up, waiting to meet our new Papa!  We were so excited to learn that our new pope is from the Americas.

What grace and humility Pope Francis I showed as he asked all the faithful to bless and pray for him before he gave his first blessing to all of us, the Universal Church.  

St. Francis, pray for our Holy Father as he begins his Pontificate.  Holy Spirit, guide and protect Pope Francis I as he works to evangelize Rome! Amen.

Irish Dancing in the Month of March

Rainy Tuesday.

Rainy day project, done.  Elizabeth's beautiful purple velvet Irish dance dress no longer fit, so I sewed a new princess blue-colored dress for her last month.  Today, I finally completed the shawl.  We've been to two shows this "St. Patrick's Day Season" but we have three more this week, so I'm happy that her dance costume is finished in time for performances and the recital later this spring.  I had that shawl listed on three or four different to-do lists.  My goal was to finish it today, since my midterm grades were due today.  I planned to finish the grading last night and sew today.  And, surprisingly enough, things went according to schedule.  Now, things didn't go perfectly or smoothly, but that's okay.  The bobbin thread ran out when I was 2/3 of the way done.  Then the tension was off when I re-threaded the machine, three times.  I sighed, but didn't get too frustrated.  All in all, I'm happy that it's done and that I get to see Elizabeth wear it to dance.

At one of the recent shows, I saw a woman at the nursing home whom I had been wondering about recently.  We used to see her regularly at weekday Mass, but she hasn't been there in a while.  I was so excited to see her when we were dancing!  After the final bow, I went over to greet her.  I had been grinning at her while I was dancing, but I knew she didn't recognize me.  She's used to seeing me at Mass in my "homeschooling mommy" role.  She didn't know me as an Irish dancer!  When I went over to talk to her,  I told her that when I saw her, I danced for her.

I am always so happy to go perform at the nursing homes for St. Patrick's Day.  The residents love the music and seeing the children (and adults!) dance.  Our teacher, the owner of the school, gives a beautiful introduction, describes the dresses with their embroidery representing designs from the Book of Kells, and tells a little about the different types of dances.  She is always so gracious, thanking the audience for welcoming us to perform for them and "share our Irish heritage during the month of March."

I'm so grateful for the gift of dance.  I  thank God for inspiring my dance teacher to arrange all of the shows and for the hard work she does to bring joy to the "home-bound" for whom we perform.

St. Patrick...Pray for us!

Impetuous Me

Sometimes my filter falls off and I blurt out comments at the most inopportune moments.  It used to happen a lot more frequently, but God in His Mercy has gifted me with Wisdom and Self Control which usually keeps me in check.  Once in a while, though, I still taste that shoe leather. That's the problem with words.  Once they're out, they can't come back in and be forgotten. Those words must be owned, and sometimes eaten.

Yesterday I said, "You changed it!" And she had.  But she didn't realize it until I blurted.  I wasn't saying anything bad or mean, but the blurt sounded almost accusatory.  My impetuous nature, in the excitement of noticing the changed dance step, lead me to an exclamation in the wrong tone of voice in the middle of the dance.  I had hoped she would change it, and had planned to ask her to change it just the way she had.  But I certainly could have waited until the music stopped to calmly mention the change.  I don't think my comment was taken as an offense, but it was jarring and certainly not at the right moment. I quickly apologized (when the music stopped) because I hadn't intended to be disruptive.

I received a different gift in that moment--Humility.  He gives me that one a lot.

Dear Lord, 
Thank you for the gifts you so lavishly pour forth on your children.  Help me to use those gifts to honor you in my brothers and sisters.  Thank you for the nature you've given me that makes me impetuous at times.  Help me to keep it in check when it could hurt, offend, or annoy others.  I love you Lord!
Amen.

When People Don't Do What I Think They Should: Or, the Log in My Own Eye

Okay, that title is a bit verbose, but it reminds me of titles of novels in my Eighteenth Century British Lit class, so I'm just gonna roll with it.

Lately, I've noticed a lot of suffering in my little corner of the world.  Winter seems to be a "time to die" and many I know have lost loved ones this month.  Others struggle with relationships with family members.  Spouses forget the strength of their sacrament and when God is not the center of their relationship, the marriage suffers discord, some ending in divorce.  Parents argue with children who question the faith of their parents.  Children who are faithful to the Church lament their parents' lack of faith.  Cabin fever sets in, and even the most loving families start bickering and snapping at seemingly insignificant "injustices."

In my hypocritical little mind, I start thinking, "Why doesn't he just...." and "If only she would....they would be so much better off."  All the while, I'm snapping at my own family and complaining and whining about "stuff and nonsense."

What's a Christian to do?  Listen to our Lord!  We must remove the log in our own eye before we can help our brother notice the speck in his eye.  And identifying that speck must not be a self-righteous act.  That speck should only be noted in love and preferably at the request of our brother.

My youngest is preparing for First Confession, and our Catholic Heritage Curricula lesson plans recommend that the parents read sections of Fr. Leo J. Trese's The Faith Explained in preparation for instructing the children.  This little book has deeply enhanced my understanding of the sacraments.  The chapter on confession gives the formula for confession, but also goes into detail about the results of a good confession.  Of particular note is the following passage regarding "our reluctance to confess an ignoble deed":

The priest is not sitting self-righteously on the other side of the screen, ready to cluck his tongue at our misdeeds.  He is human, too.  He has to go to confession, too. Instead of despising us for what we have to tell, he admires the humility with which we have overcome our embarrassment.  The bigger the sin, the happier is the priest in the knowledge or our repentance.  If the priest should happen to know who the penitent is, his regard for the person will not decrease; on the contrary, his regard will be the greater because of the trust and confidence which the penitent has shown his confessor. (459)

At our baptism, we are called to be "priest, prophet, and king."  We, as non-ordained Catholics are not called to administer the Sacrament of Penance; however, we can remember the disposition of the priest Fr. Trese describes and share in it.  We do not sit in judgment over our brothers and sisters--that's God's job!  Our job is to pray for our brothers and sisters to find God in their lives and in one another.  We should despise sins, but we should love the sinner, especially when they seek forgiveness.

As for the log in our own eye, the easiest way to remove it is through regular confession.  Performing a daily examination of conscience, not to dwell on our sins in a scrupulous manner but to recognize them and ask the Lord's forgiveness, will make us mindful of our faults so we can work harder to avoid them in the future.  Confessing those faults and failings to a priest through the Sacrament of Confession cleanses us of our sinfulness and gives us the grace we need to live a Christian life.  Finally, when we recognize that our sinfulness has injured another, we ought to seek the forgiveness of that individual.

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank you for the gift of my family.  Thank you for the gift of my friends whom I love as family.  Thank you for the gift of your Holy Church.  Thank you especially for your Mercy and Love, shown so substantially in the Sacraments of Confession and Communion.  Thank you for the Gifts of Your Holy Spirit, particularly for the Wisdom to recognize the log in my own eye and to not worry so much about those moments when people don't do what I think they should do.  I pray for them to do Your Holy Will, which is far better than anything I could ever hope for them.

Amen.

Changes and Tears

I just sent a message to my dean at the community college to let her know I'm not planning to teach the summer session this year.  I planned to take the summer off last year, too, but ended up teaching.  I received the "Teaching Availability Form" yesterday that has the same sentence as the form last year, "If not returned by this date, we will assume that you do not wish to teach this semester."  I tossed the form in the recycling bin last year because I thought it was time to take the summer off--after all, isn't that one of the perks of teaching?  In most of my years as a work-at-home mom (I teach distance education courses), I have worked throughout the summer, in spite of saying every February and March that my plan is to have fun with the kids and work in the garden all summer long.

Even though the form promised otherwise, my neglect to send any communication regarding my teaching preferences landed me a distance education summer session.   I know that the distance courses fill up first and I felt duty-bound to accept the course and not leave the college without a section for eager freshman composition students.

My youngest will be 8 at the end of summer.  I've worked every summer since he was born--it's time for my sabbatical!  Instead of assuming that the absence of a form would guarantee my break, I put the message in writing today that I'm taking off this summer.  I started to elaborate, and got teary-eyed.  I deleted the extra details and decided to leave it at "I'm taking this summer off."

So, why now?  I have a few reasons.  The first four are my children.  My oldest started attending a public high school this fall after several years of homeschooling.  He will be a senior in the fall, and when I write those words my eyes fill with tears.  I can't believe it will be our last summer before "The Summer before College."  My only daughter has opted to attend the big public high school (2000 students!) next fall as a freshman after 6 years of homeschooling.  My sixth grader may be going to the same 6-12 grade Magnet School that my oldest son attends.  That will leave my 2nd grader at home with just me for the first time since he was a toddler.  The older children started homeschooling when he turned two.  We'll have a different sort of empty nest in September.

I don't imagine that the kids will want to hang out with me all day every day this summer, but I want to have the flexibility to get up and take off with the kids to the park or the beach or to hang out and watch a movie in the air conditioning on a hot, rainy July day without worrying that I have papers to grade and emails to answer.

Next school year will be full of changes, but I'm hoping the memories of a summer full of love and togetherness will make the transition smoother for all of us.