lent

Journeying Without Hypocrisy

Standard

“Jesus spoke to the crowds and to his disciples, saying, “The scribes and the Pharisees have taken their seat on the chair of Moses. Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you, but do not follow their example. For they preach but they do not practice. They tie up heavy burdens hard to carry and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they will not lift a finger to move them. All their works are performed to be seen. They widen their phylacteries and lengthen their tassels.” – Matthew 23:1-5

Yesterday’s Gospel is one that I struggle with every Lent as well as throughout the year. How do I continue my spiritual journey, the path to find me and do it authentically, and sometimes that’s hard to come by? I go to church and I’m seen by people. Whether or not their judging me, and nine times out of ten, they are not, I still feel uncomfortable. Am I worshipping in the right way?

I did do it before my baptism, but it took me forever to make the sign of the cross and the crosses on my head, lips and heart before the Gospel is read. I wasn’t ready, but then one day, without thinking about it, I just did it. I almost didn’t realize it. One day it was right.

I did feel that part of me was worried at how I looked, did people think I was genuine.

This was one of the reasons I didn’t talk about what I had given up for Lent or about the daily reflections that I had planned on doing. To me it sounded like bragging even though I definitely didn’t mean it like that. When I put money in the collection basket, I feel like there are looks, and I wish that there was another way of making my contribution.

How do we join the two sides to do what is important to us individually to do?

Today is the fourteenth day into Lent. I haven’t been counting down, but as I mentioned one of the Lenten commitments I made to myself (and to you, although unknowingly to you) in that first week was to write a daily reflection. It doesn’t matter how long it was or what it was about, but it was spontaneous, something that came to me at some point during the day, and so far as almost exclusively been related to my daily readings. Yesterday was the exception.

Most of them have been kind of eureka moments. I’ll be going along with my normal day, I read something or hear something at mass, and it makes me think, or go aha! Or slap my head or stop whatever else I’m doing to jot down a few thoughts and post it. This is really where my kindle has come in handy. In fact, today is probably the first day in the last month that I’ve actually used my computer to write. I can thank the bad roads for that. I ended up staying home with my television and my computer. I’m hungry, but that can wait.

I love to write. It makes me feel alive. It is part of every aspect of everything I do. I need it and I need to do it every day, constantly throughout the day. One of the objects I want to get out of these daily reflections is to continue to figure out who I am and where my mental priorities lie. I’m forty-eight years old and I don’t fit. I’m still trying to fit.

Remembering to do what feels right and leaving the hypocrisy at the door is a struggle that we all have to push through, and we all can in our own ways.

Life and Living

Standard

image

(It says: “Until life within the womb of a mother is safe, life outside the womb will never be safe.”)

(*Note: I saw this earlier today and I had an opinion on it to share. Not all of my reflections this Lent will be on my positive journeying through the forty days. I have many things that cross my mind in a day, and this was today’s.
Trigger warnings for abortion and choice.*)

I could not disagree with this more. In fact, I find it offensive that this is part of a so-called pro-life campaign.

In fact, I think the opposite is true: it is our obligation to care for those already born and through education and appropriate birth control, abortions will, and have been going steadier, lower.

The false equivalency of a fetus and a grown person having the same safety concerns tells me that the person who wrote this sign doesn’t understand the real issues that women in this country, pregnant or not, face on a daily basis.

Is abortion really less safe than being born without a spinal cord or a brain stem?

Is abortion really less safe than starving and dying in poverty?

Is abortion really less safe than living in a chronically abusive household?

Do we really care more for our unborn than our already born? Our persons of color? Our single parents? Our foster kids? Our child victims of rape who are forced to carry babies to term when their emotional states and their physical bodies are not ready for it?

Shouldn’t we begin with taking care of those outside the womb first? If we can’t get that right, how can we presume to know what’s the best options for inside someone else’s body?

We also know that a fetus could not survive on its own without its physical attachment to the mother, the host, unlike people who are already living, breathing, thinking human beings. It is not a symbiotic relationship; it is strictly one-sided. If you remove the baby from the situation, the mother will still be alive. The opposite is not true.

I would prefer less bumper sticker sanctimony and more real world options without the attack on pregnant women at every turn.

Retreat

Standard

Most people read that word as surrender or giving up but even in a military sense, despite its bad rap it really is not a negative.

A retreat (verb) for me is a chance to step back and regroup. Reassess the situation from a different perspective; take a look at the big picture, assess what’s working and what’s not and move forward with not only a better outlook but with a better plan; one that has a chance of pushing us in good ways and always moving us ahead rather than standing still.

Confession

Standard

Confession is not for payoffs; it is for healing.

– Lewis B. Smedes, Give Us This Day, 2/27/15

My first confession was required as part of my RCIA program. It may have been the first sacrament I made prior to baptism.

I was forty-seven, and had no idea where to begin. Would anything I felt guilty about count? Should I stick to the ten commandments? Most of those weren’t applicable: murder, adultery, stealing.

I yell at my kids and I curse. A lot.

It felt silly.

But in looking deeper, into years and decades of feeling sorrow for deeds, I managed, with the guidance of my priest to find the right balance, to know what should be confessed and what should be ignored, what needed deeper understanding and what remained superficial.

It wasn’t my confession that freed me; it was the absolution and the absolutism of G-d’s forgiveness through my priest’s words and prayers. With his hands on my head, I could feel the weight lifted, literally going away from me.

It was so much more than I expected, and so much more healing than I could have imagined.

Hope

Standard

Where there’s life, there’s hope.

I heard this today on Supernatural. It was said in a glib, facetious way to put on a happy face, to show that the character didn’t care about his future, but the fact is that he does care. Underneath it all, he’s an optimist.

I would always call myself a realist; or even a pessimist. I have a knack for finding the dark cloud in every silver lining, but slowly, that seems to be changing.

My mantra drones on in my head, it will all be alright, and I think…. I think I might actually meant it.

Intention

Standard

Intentions are important. My decision to miss morning mass this morning was with the intention of going to tonight’s mass.

Unfortunately, I fell asleep this afternoon, and now I feel like Rip Van Winkle. My head is groggy, my mind is foggy, my hands are tingling, and the last thing I want to do is go out in the cold.

I will probably stay home, and read my devotional. Although I find that positive, it’s not the same as being in the community of church.

Intentions are important.

I must remember that follow throughs are more so.

Rite of the Elect

Standard

Yesterday was the first Sunday in Lent, when the Bishops greet those in their Diocese who are preparing for their baptism into the Catholic Church.

One year ago, I was one of the Elect, called by name at our Cathedral. I met our Bishop, and I signed my name in the book. There were prayers, and hymns. My family was there, my husband, my kids; my priest and a church friend standing in as sponsor.

The nervousness of being on display subsided with a calm I’ve only found through Jesus; that unfailing faith that only He can bring.

Surety.

This decision was unwavering; the only one before or since.