Use this oppotunity to go on pilgrimage. I know that we all can’t just hop on a jet and see the world or pray around the world, but we can visit some places that inspire us to be more prayerful and draw us closer to G-d.
Lourdes is one of those places.
What I call my “relics”. These are not historical or sacred in any way except to me. 1. (Top left): Dried flowers and rock along with holy water from St. Elen’s Well in Wales. 2. (Bottom left): The top and bottom of a rock from what is still standing of my mother-in-law’s uncle’s house in Northern Ireland. 3. (Top right): A shell and a rock (or a fossilized rock) from Ballintoy. 4. Middle right): Holy water and pebble from St. Olcan’s Holy Well and a rock from the Cranfield Church ruins as well as the top and bottom of the rocks from the site. 5. (Bottom right): The dried flowers and rock from St. Elen’s Well without the holy water pictured. (c)2017
I had expected to be able to post throughout this week, but unfortunately this is probably the busiest week of Lent for me. Until next week that is. As I mentioned to my priest last night, it’s all good busy, but this morning I was beyond exhausted. I stayed in bed an extra hour until my headache subsided, and now I’m slowly getting ready for today.
As part of my Lenten journey this year, in going to the desert figuratively, and finding my own wilderness, I have taken on many spiritual projects that are dear to me. It was fortunate that my local retreat center had so many sessions and experiences to choose from.
I have been keeping a Lenten journal since Ash Wednesday, and I have been loving it. From the feel of the pen gliding across the paper to the beautiful green Celtic designed journal itself, it has given me a feeling of purpose that I will try to continue, although not daily, throughout the spring and summer, and perhaps convert it to an Advent journal later in the year. Continue reading
Why Do People Fast for Lent? (a view from Vox)
As the first full week of Lent comes to a close, I thought I would talk about some of the difficulty I’ve been having during this year’s time of reflection. It really has been a struggle to find what I want to make of this Lenten season.
On Sunday last, I finally decided, after four days that I would give up bread for Lent. Not all bread products, but the delicious, soft, warm, fluffy bread. Then on Monday at my friend’s funeral reception, I ate a roll. It was not unintentional. I wanted the roll, and I took one. I probably would have had two, but since I knew that I had succumbed I didn’t want to compound my misstep. I do plan on going to confession on Saturday, and I plan on abstaining from bread for the rest of Lent.
I could not decide on what would be a meaningful fast. Everything seemed hollow and superficial. I thought of the other items I’d given up for Lent in the past: diet Coke, ice cream, and McDonald’s breakfast burritos. For some reason, I feel like chocolate should also be on that list, but I don’t recall actually giving it up. Perhaps it was on the list of options in the past.
Should I give up all three?
No, that would be crazy, and near nigh impossible. The abstention is supposed to be thoughtful and somewhat difficult, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be impossible.
I finally decided on bread for a few reasons:
1. I eat way too much bread. [But it’s sooooo good.]
2. My doctor wants me to eliminate bread and sugar and empty calories from my diet. I did this for three months last year and I lost almost thirty pounds. Then, I got lazy, gained it all back, and then some, and I feel much more crappy.
3. Bread would be not impossilbe, but it would also be challenging, and the benefit at the end of forty days would be both physical and spiritual.
So, bread it is.
I am also adding to my Lenten “diet”.
1. I’m returning to the 9am daily mass when I don’t have a prior commitment. On the other two days, I’m planning tea and meditation and/or prayer.
2. I’m keeping a Lenten journal.
3. I’m speaking out, but trying to do so in a more diplomatic way.
4. I’m finding me, and being me more often.
5. Prayer, fast, alms. I’m thinking more about the particulars of Lent, and how to carry Lent throughout my year.
I am also reading Not By Bread Alone. It is a reflection book very much like the Advent one I liked so much.
I am going to try and cook one meal a week. I have been poorly disposed to cooking for quite a while now. Some of it is depression, and some of it is that I haven’t done it in so long, it feels weird to start again.
I have many retreats/workshops, mainly at the Dominican Retreat Center that give me so much spiritually and through fellowship with others.
I’m less self-conscious about discussing my differences with many of the Catholics I know. I talk about growing up Jewish, which not everyone knows, but it really relates to who I am today, and how I approach my Catholicism. I talk about my feminism without as much embarrassment as I used to have. I defend Hillary Clinton and the Democrats, diplomatically. I embrace my allyship of LGBT, especially youth and trans people who need more allies. I accept and embrace my thoughts and beliefs on reproductive rights, even where it diverges from doctrine.
As a funny way to end these thoughts of Lent, as a Jewish person, and yes, I still consider myself to be Jewish as much as I’m Catholic, I find it funny the dietary rules of Lent as compared to Yom Kippur. During the twenty-four hours of Yom Kippur, our fast was no food or drink, and typically most adults would spend the entire day in temple in prayer. I would only take water with my medicine and I only ate when I was pregnant. But Lent…you only fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, and you abstain from meat on those days as well as all of the Fridays in Lent. But only if you are under 59. And a Catholic fast is one normal sized meal, but as many as two small meals with no in between meal snacking. I think water is acceptable throughout the day. This seems so easy to my Jewish mind.
I also know that it’s the thought that counts, so while I am partaking in these fasts and abstentions, I am reading and reflecting, meditating and contemplating, and drawing closer to G-d without all the hub-bub of food getting in the way.
Lent is a slow down to discern what is important, and to set goals for the rest of the year after the celebration of Easter.
This is only the beginning of the time in the desert, but it is not a trudge, but a slow pace to get to the other side better than before, and the first steps have been taken.
May your fast be easy.
Book News is a new series that is for sharing, for sounding board, for feedback, and for my own accountability. I’ve mentioned several times in the past about the two books that I’ve been “in the middle of” for what seems like forever. I feel like my Wales book is a reward for when my House book is finished. The problem with that is that writing the House book is extraordinarily emotional and I have a hard time getting through it for several reasons that I need to address within the pages of the book.
I don’t know if it will be a monthly or a biweekly feature (I’m leaning towards biweekly) , but it will be on my calendar, and so I will need to set goals based on my outlines, and begin the research for some of their aspects.
Book News will let me keep a log of those things that aren’t necessarily post-worthy or essay/articles, but that still need to be accomplished in order to publish.
I think this will work for me, and I appreciate your support as I make changes and grow as a writer.
Quick Intros Continue reading
”This (Holy Year) is the opportune moment to change our lives!” the pope has said. “This is the time to allow our hearts to be touched!…May pilgrimage be an impetus to conversion.”
– Pope Francis
This is what Pope Francis said when he opened up this Jubilee Holy Year of Mercy. He also mentioned that a pilgrimage would be equally beneficial closer to home if a trip to Rome wasn’t possible.
That intrigued me, and I began to think about pilgrimage in a more tangible, more accessible way.
In a mere five weeks, we are coming to the conclusion of that Extraordinary Jubilee Year.
In some ways, I have done much towards creating a better understanding of mercy – for myself and for others. I have also reflected much more on forgiveness – again, both for myself and for others.
It took me some time to initially walk through our Holy Door; to feel as though I were ready; worthy of the entrance. I didn’t want to rush through and have it be done, like a ticky box to b checked. I wanted to discern and meditate on what it meant, and perhaps that meant that I would never walk through the portal.
I’ve written before about how I did finally reach a moment to enter, and then a second moment. When our family went on a short holiday to Niagara Falls, I wanted to go to reconciliation and to enter through the Holy Door with prayer and reflection before our journey.
Niagara Falls is one of those places that I grew up visiting and loved as a child, and that I eventually shared with my husband and later with my oldest son. Now, I was going to share it with my two younger children, but I was also going to see the magnificent and powerful falls with new eyes; eyes that had been touched by G-d and by faith.
I had spent much of my year of mercy as a spiritual pilgrim, going to places that struck me as important on my journey. Sometimes that was as simple as sitting in Starbucks or outside on a bench with a cool breeze waving my hair around.
Sometimes, it was taking a week in the spring to visit some local historical places, taking my camera and my journal and discovering new things about the places, the people, and myself despite my lack of stamina.
I went to the Shrine of the North American Martyrs, wandering in the rain, praying, and just being in the stillness of such a place of faith.
I joined three ministries at church; things that I felt a calling to, in education, in adult faith formation, and in service. Time is short, but I’m working through the process of balancing it all.
I went on two weekend and one four-week retreats that reenergized me, and my creative spirit was able to blend with my faithful spirit. It gave meaning to the Scriptures and the environment, and propelled me forward and given me strength.
My pilgrimage of writing has been equally in the forefront and as important as my spiritual pilgrimage. I am always on the path of a pilgrim, whether I write about it or not. It is who I am.
This year of mercy will remain with me much longer than the physical year.
The Jubilee Year of Mercy began on December 8, 2015 (the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception) and will conclude on November 20, 2016 (the Solemnity of Christ the King).
Pope Francis has, at the cornerstone of his pontificate encouraged mercy and forgiveness as well as reconciliation and communion between the three Abrahamic religions – Christianity, Judaism, and Islam as well as all Christian faiths and tolerance for those who do not believe the same or believe at all.
The plenary indulgence may be gained by passing through the Holy Doors that are opened during the Jubilee Year in the Basilicas of Rome.
To make it more accessible to more people, Pope Francis authorized a Holy Door in all of the Cathedrals across the world as well as in some parishes and shrines, including my own home parish.
Pope Francis called for pilgrimage, but since I didn’t have to go to Rome, I thought of other ways to continue my pilgrimage of faith that I had begun two years before my baptism and welcome into the church.
This was something tangible that I could participate in. My faith and my writing intersect on many, if not all, levels. I did not want to simply walk through the door and have that be it. I discerned and meditated on when I would walk through the Holy Door, and what it would be the beginning of.
It took me weeks to feel the right feelings. I wasn’t sure I cared too deeply about plenary indulgences – I wasn’t even sure what they were, but I did know that I wanted to participate in the Year of Mercy, not only for myself but for the world around me.
Having mercy and offering forgiveness is so much more than not being judgmental and not holding a grudge, and I think as someone who does both, I wanted something spiritual that would teach me and let me expand what I was feeling and needing.
This year is also the year that I turn 50, and I’m not sure that was so much coincidence as fate to get me to this place at this time.
I stood in front of the Holy Door as parishioners went in the main entrance. I studied the picture on the left and the short prayer on the right.
I prayed the Holy Father’s prayer for the Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy that he provided.
And then I opened the door and stepped in.
There was a whoosh of warm air as the outside air met the inside air, but maybe it was something more. I stood still for a moment as the warmth settled on my face, and then I sat in my regular pew for the regular mass.
During the course of the year, I’ve said the Pope’s Prayer for Mercy several times. I’ve attended the Divine Mercy Mass with the Bishop and recited the Divine Mercy Chaplet on the rosary beads. I’ve gone to reconciliation and said my confession, both on Divine Mercy Sunday and throughout the year when I’ve felt the need to be absolved. I’ve received the Eucharist. I’ve prayed for the Pope’s intentions.
My pilgrimage was a bit more complicated and I’ll talk about that in the weeks to come. leading to the conclusion of this Jubilee Year.
Join me as I post seven more of these, one each Sunday until November 20th.
I was on retreat when my parish’s holy door went up officially. The Pope announced that there would be a Jubilee Year of Mercy, and there would not only be a Holy Door at the Vatican, but at every Cathedral across the world. This Pope is nothing if not inclusive. He walks the walk, which is one of the many reason that I am so fond of him. I was very excited to have joined the church about the same time as his election to Bishop of Rome. Without ever having met him, I felt welcomed by the world church as much as I had been welcomed by my parish church,.
I had planned on going through the Holy Door at our Cathedral, but was very excited to learn that our parish was one of a handful that was permitted to have our own official Holy Door. People have come from as far away as a two hour drive to walk through our holy door.
The one thing about walking through the door wasn’t that I could easily do it. it’s not a regular door. There is a purpose to it. The people who enter through those doors should do so with a purpose, with a reason and a contemplative mind. Like all doors, walking through this one is a beginning, not an objective.
“This (Holy Year) is the opportune moment to change our lives!” the pope has said. “This is the time to allow our hearts to be touched!…May pilgrimage be an impetus to conversion.”
– Pope Francis
This is what Pope Francis said when he opened up this Jubilee Holy Year of Mercy. I touched on the idea of what a pilgrimage is a few weeks ago, and as I proceed through this holy year, I’m still wondering.
I have several plans that involve retreats and learning; contemplation and writing, and I’m not sure where one activity ends and one begins.
Is that a pilgrimage? A retreat? A holiday?
And where does mercy fit in?
I honestly don’t know, and part of this year for me is looking for my own form of mercy; for me.
I’m much better at giving mercy to others, forgiving and letting things go, but I still haven’t done my pre-Easter penance for reconciliation, not because it’s too hard, but because it involves another person and that is the hardest thing to ask of me.
So I ask you:
What does this mean for me in particular as I take my retreats this year, and sort of a partial pilgrimage?
Or just wander through my notebook and my Kindle finishing projects and beginning others?
At the end of this holy year, will I have traveled enough to find my mercy?
Our parish is one of the lucky ones that is not a cathedral, but still has a Holy Door to enter. I’ve walked through it once, earlier in the year, simply as an introduction to myself and to G-d of my intentions, but I will be going through it again after some prayer and meditation.
It gives me joy to see it whenever I go to my church, and it also gives me the reminder that the year is not over yet. I still have time to find my way, and my way begins through that door.
Is a retreat a pilgrimage? What about the reverse? Is a pilgrimage a retreat? They can be. They can also not be. Is a road trip a pilgrimage?
For a long time, I assumed that pilgrimage meant spiritual and/or religious. In looking back over my more focused travels, I’ve taken historical pilgrimages, writing pilgrimages, and nature ones. I never looked at them that way before. Everywhere I went in those instances (an in many others) always included writing. Notebooks came with me. Notebooks, journals, and my camera. Now, I will sometimes bring a sketchbook, like this past weekend retreat, but as opposed to the notebooks which is second nature I have to be conscious of packing a sketchbook and colored pencils. Drawing will never feel second nature to me, but it is something that doesn’t intimidate me as much as it used to.
While I’ve been writing this, I have come to the realization that a pilgrimage can sometimes include a retreat, but they are two different things.
Griffins and Ginger Snaps 