First Sunday of Advent

One of the things I became re-acquainted with when I began to attend Mass at the Catholic Church was the liturgical calendar. I had never realized that just like an Asian New Year and a Jewish New Year, there was also a Catholic New Year, and it begins with Advent.

Once Thanksgiving is over, many move into Christmas mode. After all, it is the Christmas season.

There is the misconception.

The Christmas season doesn’t actually begin until Christmas Eve, the Vigil of the Nativity. The song, The Twelve Days of Christmas…well, those twelve days begin on December 26 and conclude on January 6, also known as Three Kings Day, Los Posadas, Epiphany, and Twelfth Night. That was the traditional day to receive presents. When I was involved in medieval re-enacting, we often gave gifts and celebrated Twelfth Night.

After Thanksgiving, begins the season of Advent, the time of waiting; waiting for the birth of the Christ child. Like Lent it is an anticipatory time. We reflect on the past year that’s concluded. We begin a new Gospel cycle. This is the A year – Matthew. I am very fond of Matthew. It was his Gospel year when I first joined the church and I took a great lecture series on his gospel. I learned a great deal and so I became very attached to him.

Today, our church gave out a Daily Reflection book for Advent and Christmas. This one is compact and gives you something each day to read. It takes about five minutes or so, and you can meditate longer if you have the time and the inclination. Personally, I’m going to try and sit quietly with a cup of tea while I read and reflect.

I read the Introduction and then turned the book over to read the description on the back. The blurb recommending the book at the top caught my eye, and then I realized that the blurb was written by my godmother. A surprise that brought a smile to my face.

Front of the book given out by my church for the Advent Season.

Back of the book with the description and a blurb about the author, Bishop Robert F. Morneau.

There are many Advent resources offered in paper form, online or as e-books. I will sometimes buy the e-book of whatever the book is that my church gives out so I can read it on my Kindle, only if the price is reasonable.
One of the things I love about these little books is the change and the challenge to do a daily meditation as well as the Introduction to a book that I might not have ordinarily found on my own.

The Advent wreath is up, the banners are changed, the colors are purple, the incense is fragrant. Now the waiting begins, and a new search for something wonderful on this Advent journey.

Later in the week, I will share some other resources for your Advent journey.

50-40 – Collections

I have always been a collector. I’m not quite at the hoarding stage yet, but it’s not that far off, so I need to be ever vigilant and aware so I don’t end up on the nighttime news when they come with a shovel.

Our whole family collects something or other. My oldest son collects fire department memorabilia and history, books and pictures. My husband and middle son collect comic books and action figures. My middle son also collects Lego. He loves to build them and display them. He also continues to play with them. My daughter collects clothes. She wants to be a fashion designer and she loves putting new outfits together and seeing how she can make something old new again.

In my basement, I have videotapes and newspaper articles, magazines that I wanted to keep forever. I have the newspaper when NY Yankee Thurman Munson died. I have magazines when Princess Diana was married and I saved the newspapers somewhere for President Obama’s inauguration.

I have a collection of pewter pieces, primarily on the medieval theme, but also groupings of griffins, my favorite animal. Yes, of course, it’s a real animal.

I collect some stamp sets and sheets, usually the ones that my kids would want to have when they’re older. I’ve showcased some of them on here recently.

I collect coins. Not anything really worth much, but just a remembrance of where I’ve been or gifts that I’ve been given. I’m not sure where they all are, but I have German marks and French francs. A shekel and a Scottish paper pound. My friend sent me New Zealand money from his home and my husband brought me coins from the Philippines when he was there for his work. I almost always have Canadian money on me somewhere. We just went over the border this past summer for a couple of days vacation.

I also collect Hufflepuffs. They are a rare find, so I’m pretty sure I’ve got everything sold in our local stores, including Hot Topic.

My biggest collection is my pins. I love pins. I buy them wherever I am, and I am sent them by frineds, although I usually have to ask. I have San Francisco and Las Vegas from a friend. I have a Hello Kitty from Japan and my son brought me an Eiffel Tower pin from Paris. He recently went to the 9/11 Memorial and Museum and he brought me my newest pin from there commemorating the fire department. Another new pin is my 50th anniversary Star Trek pin that a friend got for me at a convention. I have loved Star Trek since I was a little girl, and I thought that since I was also turning 50 this year, I’d really like the pin. The picture below is what my jacket looks like currently, but I display my pins on corkboard and need to get a few more squares of it to get the rest of them on.

My collections remind me of things, whether they’re what’s depicted on the pins or they remind me of the person who gave it to me, or the adventure I had when I got the pin. That’s especially true of my Gettysburg Bike Week pin.

All of my collections remind me of who I am and the important things I’ve done and want to remember.

The pins currently on my jacket: from the top, clockwise: my RCIA cross, trio of crosses from the Shrine of the North American Martyrs, rainbow Pride, Gishwhes, safety pin, Niagara Falls, 9/11 Memorial, 50th anniversary Star Trek, Hufflepuff, Supernatural anti-possession symbol, Star Labs, Michonne and Daryl from The Walking Dead, Wales, Niagara Falls/Hard Rock Cafe, 9/11 Memorial larger version. (c)2016

50-34 – Stonehenge

I’ve been once. Very nearly thirty years ago. What is most amazing apart from the stones themselves and the sacred space itself is how much of the feelings remain with me after so many years away.

I’ve always had a thing for rocks. Pebbles and larger, colored and polished, rough, formations that can’t be moved no matter how hard you try. When I returnd to Wales in 2009, I touched the stones of castles and rock formations, and almost none gave me the feeling that I experienced at Stonehenge.

I was lucky when I went. You could still touch the stones and move in and out, around them and about. There were some ropes to keep you from sitting on the flat ones, and of course, they didn’t want you climbing, but just being there, surrounded by the cool plains air, the cold to the touch stones, gigantic, and not just tall but broad and sturdy.

The sun was setting. We were one of the last buses allowed in for the day, and I was very thankful. This was our only chance to visit, and this was one of the important places that I wanted to see. To touch. To feel. To be.

If you’ve never been to a place of great spirits, you can’t imagine the electricity coming off of not only the stones, but the ground below them. I’ve been to Gettysburg, and I imagine Standing Rock in North Dakota has the residual of all that has gone before it, but Stonehenge….Stonehenge is in an entirely other category; another world.

You almost don’t notice the other tourists. I was spellbound, moving from one monolith to the next, placing my hand, palm flat against the cold, rough edifice. I didn’t have to imagine what had gone before in this place; I could feel it: the heartbeat. The pulse, the pulsating of life, of forever.I never wanted to leave.

The sky dimmed and then darkened, the powerful stones becoming shadowed and dark against the darkening sky. I can remember leaving, sitting in the bus, looking out the window at the stones growing smaller as we ambled slowly away, getting further and further distant, and yet, they are still with me; within me.

There is magic there, so much that it is able to let a little bit leave with its visitors and keep them in touch with the pulse of the land, the stones, the past, and the future, and of course, whatever else we believe is out there, be it Druidic or Diety, Nature or Nurture, Spirit and Faith.

It’s taken thirty years to get this much down, and I still feel more wanting to bubble up, but not ready – I’m not ready to let it all out. I want to be selfish and keep it inside for me alone. It can’t be shared in a way that anyone else can feel what I feel. It’s too much to share so I’ve shared what I could.

50-20 – Temple

I recently found myself in Temple for my friends’ daughter’s Bat Mitzvah.It is at once familiar and strange to me. As a child, I went to shul or school twice a week, but there were no services with them. It was the learning of the language, the history, the tradition, and I loved it. I went with my cousins who were my best friends and neighbors. When we all moved, they to Florida, we to Long Island, I went to a more religious center that I did not like, but was lucky enough to find my old teacher, Mr. Baran and went back to the traditional school that I loved so much.

This recent time in Temple was more enriched by my attending Catholic Mass than any other thing I can think of. I suddenly understood some of the ritual that was never explained to me as a child.

When the Cantor sang, Oh-ya-say-Shalom-bin-romav, I began to sing along. I was amazed to discover that I knew every word, and wished that the song would go on forever because it brought me to a childhood place that I thought was lost.

It reminded me of the High Holidays in Queens. The High Holiday services required tickets. All of us children were left in the parking lot while our parents went in to pray at the multi-hour service. I was one of the older kids at seven or eight.

We stayed on the warm asphalt, playing jump rope and hopscotch in our Saturday best. For a long time I thought I made up this memory, but in talking to my cousins recently they remember it exactly the way that I do, so it must have happened. We were left to our own devices and on occasion someone would come out from the temple and shush us. We had the foresight to look chagrined, but as soon as the doors closed again, we went right back to our playing, eventually getting loud enough for someone else to come out and chastise us.

It was like that every year until we moved.

Gifts

On Friday, I talked a bit about my mother-in-law and the life she led. We were lucky to see her as often as we did, with her traveling to us by bus or once in a while by train before her accident three years ago, and our traveling to see her as often as we could. She lived about two hundred-fifty miles away from us so it was a long drive, but well worth it.

We were visiting her the last week in June. We had waited for the kids to get out of school, and down we went. We had no idea that she would be gone before we left for home. There’s being sick in the hospital and there’s sick in the hospital, heading to rehab to regain mobility and since she was the latter we were already making summer plans to visit again when she passed away.

She was able to have seen her three children and three of her six grandchildren. She admired my daughter’s outfits, which I mentioned on Friday were inspired by her own free spirit and her grandmother’s. She asked us about visiting my parents’ graves and bringing rocks from her garden. (Leaving rocks on gravestones is a Jewish tradition that we followed whenever we were at the cemetery.)

My mother-in-law grew up during World War II in and around Belfast to a Catholic mother and a Protestant father. I mention this again because it influenced her lack of use for the Church. She had seen too much. Even as her kids went to catechism, her opinions on the bureaucracy remained.

When I told her of my decision to join the Catholic Church and be baptized, she was nothing but supportive. She immediately went into her dresser and gave me the prayer book pictured above. She said she wondered why she kept it all these years; now she knew why.

On another visit, she gave me the keychain/folder that is also pictured above. I don’t know that she ever carried it seriously in her purse, but it was the most perfect piece of religious kitsch that I’ve had the pleasure of seeing.

She also gave me a little confirmation statue of Jesus and a girl that she happened to have, probably from one of her beloved garage sales, still in an old, dusty box.

Despite no love for the physical church that she remembered, she supported my new found faith and asked me about it whenever we were together. She enjoyed looking at my Easter Vigil photos from my baptism, confirmation and first communion.

No matter what she thought, everyone had their own path to follow and she encouraged them in it, always.

Anointing Mass

This was my fourth or fifth anointing mass. Our church holds these twice a year. it is a lovely mass with music and inspiration and no matter what the ailment – whether physical or mental, whether relief is granted, there is always some form of healing whether it be spiritually, in our hearts, or simply through the camaraderie of joining with so many others for a beautiful morning and then socially at lunch.

The tables are always set beautifully with a seasonal centerpiece, or rather smaller items across the table that we take home at the end. There are also inspirational cards to remind us of our anointing and also of G-d’s presence in our lives, supporting or comforting us and more.

At my first anointing mass, in my priest’s homily, he mentioned Julian Of Norwich and her saying: All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.

This reminded me of myself. Whatever huge thing is happening, my response is always, it will be okay. I don’t always believe it outwardly, but it centers me into striving for it. There are always worse things. I will get through this. For a long time I had forgotten this, but that first anointing mass, at the time I called it a healing mass, was exactly what I’d needed, and it gave me something to carry with me as well as someone to look into.

After returning home yesterday, and after an hour and a half last week with Brother Mickey McGrath, I was inspired to draw.

The first photo is what we received at the luncheon, and the second is my art that I created last night.

A Call to Claim Each Other

Today marks the end of the the Week of Christian Unity. As called upon in Peter, “to proclaim the mighty works of the one who has called us out of darkness into his marvelous light,” we can join together under the ecumenical banner of Christian unity.

From that joining we can move to the other faiths we have common-ness with as well as those we have no commonality with.

Interfaith and acceptance isn’t changing one’s beliefs, but including everyone regardless of their religion or non-religion as I’ve expanded the thought, and whatever else separates us..

Recently I attended a gathering sponsored by the Interfaith Community in my local area. It was described as “moving beyond tolerance, and beyond coexistence, to affirmation, acceptance, mutual support and cooperation among peoples of faith … literally to claim each other as sisters and brothers of G-d.” While this was faith-based, that is no reason to think that non-faith people or faith groups not mentioned by name are excluded from this type of conversation.

The presenters included a Rev. B, Rabbi K, and Imam G. In addition to their religious titles and education, the rabbi and the imam are also professors at a local college and hold degrees in religious studies. In the audience were several people I had seen before at workshops and retreats including our Bishop Emeritus, who championed interfaith cooperation and acceptance (including with the Jewish faith when it was an unpopular position to hold) in his thirty-seven years as Bishop.

The next thing I should mention is that this gathering/lecture had not been planned in the two months prior to the date. It became apparent that this type of gathering and discussion was needed with the onslaught of anti-Muslim rhetoric that is becoming prevalent in our country today as well as the tremendous rise of anti-semitism across this country and globally.

This will serve as my thoughts interspersed with my summation of the gathering and a paraphrasing of what was said by many in attendance. The only statements that are verbatim will appear within quotation marks.

I’ll begin where the Reverend began:

Sarah Palin endorsed Donald Trump for President. We chuckled and eye rolled, but we were stopped cold when we were reminded of another disenfranchised group courted in the same way as Palin/Trump that gave rise to someone we all remember – Hitler. Megalomaniac. Demagogue. This was not hyperbole; or ironic. This was very serious. This was something to think about.

An austere beginning, and then he (followed by the Rabbi) continued with this quotation:

“Silence is sometimes betrayal.” – Martin Luther King

We cannot sit idly by and hope that it gets better, or that someone else will stand up for what is right; to speak out for someone else.

“First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out –
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out –
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out –
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me – and there was no one left to speak for me.”
– Martin Niemoller

Martin Niemoller was a Lutheran Pastor who spent eight years in a Nazi concentration camp. Some of his statements prior to that can be problematic, but he never shirked from discussing them or the changes in his views formed by the turning point of having survived the concentration camps.

If we’re not standing together, we stand apart in fear. We’re all concerned for me, but “I want them to stand with me or I’ll be standing alone.” [Rabbi K]

We must remember that we are all individuals, and individuals are approachable. We can’t dismiss a whole group of people, and that includes the ones we don’t agree with; even Fox News.

We must acknowledge that everyone has a conscience; a heart; mind; they are individuals.

It can be challenging to be a person of faith. It can also be challenging to be an American. It is also challenging to be a person who doesn’t have religious faith in this increasingly divisive to those who are different.

With the Patriot Act, we decided it was okay to profile, to strip individuals of their rights. Whenever we’re reminded of Japanese internment camps or McCarthyism, we’re told that we’ve moved beyond that bias.

But have we?

We must remember that our social – political – economical interests are all intertwined. Our destinies are intertwined on a global level. The world is too small to be isolationists; or imperialists.

We need to look for an interfaith, grassroots, educational movement of inclusivity.

Looking at the middle East, it’s imperative to remember that context is paramount. The Middle East is a land bridge on the way to Europe. Without it being home to the three major religions in the world, it would still be a land in strife. The political division by Europeans didn’t help matters in much the same way that the partitioning of Africa has come to a similar head in recent years.

Since admittedly, most of us have less knowledge of Islam and Muslims, it might be important to hear some unbiased facts about the Muslim faith and the Koran.

The Koran is 1400 years old and as I mentioned context is paramount. It has its governing and foundational verses. There is an academic and literary process to analyze and interpret the Koran. There is a freedom to choose, a G-d given free will that contributes to the analysis of the Koran.

The first thing to know is that Muslims have an understanding of the people of the book – those people who are “receiving of the Word/Scriptures from G-d.” [Imam G] This includes all Jews and Christians. The Torah came first, then the Gospels, and then the Koran.

Any “bigoted dialogue of other faiths, such things are in completely contradictive with foundational verses in the Koran.” [Imam G]

Whoever believes in G-d – Jews, Christians, anyone, be happy in this life and in the next.

We’ve followed a mixed path, but we have a common G-d. We have shared foods. We believe in marriage and building families.

Warfare is “never based on religious difference.” It is a last resort “for the protection of human rights and justice.” [Imam G]

All three of the Abrahamic faiths believe in salvation, families and marriage, and the protection of our places of worship.

Looking at the Pillars of Islam, where is jihad mentioned? Does Islam equal jihad? It does not. It’s not even in the top ten of the pillars.

Education is where it begins to bring us together and refuse to let us be separated. We need to heed the call to claim others, to protect others because if we don’t eventually we’ll be someone else’s other.

Postscript: This morning as I was finishing up the editing, I came across this Washington Post article discussing how a college student of the Muslim faith continues amid anti-Muslim rhetoric and the pressure to “fit in” as an American from both inside and outside her family.

Roe v. Wade (1973)

Today is the 43rd anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision. That’s the decision that maintains a woman’s right to choose; to do with her body as she feels; It gives her privacy. It gives her autonomy. Many people herald it as a pro-abortion decision, but any of us who have contemplated abortion know that it is not. We know that no one, NO ONE, is pro-abortion.

Read about abortions before this landmark decision for some perspective.

As a country, we’re okay with the death penalty, even in cases where the convicted party is mentally disturbed – not the Charles Manson crazy, but developmental disabilities like Down’s Syndrome and mental ages that are well below their chronological age.

As a country, we’re okay with war; perpetual war since 2011.

As a country, we’re okay with torture.

We’re okay with domestic violence and victim-blaming where women are involved. Where men are involved, we reduce them to women.

We can’t even pass a VAWA that includes ALL women.

What is going on here?

I read something recently from someone who I respect, who is pro-life, who is a good-hearted, loving, peaceful person describing abortion (in some instances) as a convenience. Women don’t want to be inconvenienced. I strongly take issue with that way of thinking; that stereotype. Women who have abortions because of economic reasons are not doing it as a convenience. These women, for the most part are living in poverty. They have children and are often single parents. There is no universal child care option for them to get steady work or they work several jobs for part time hours. They are living in abusive situations that they can’t escape because they have no control over their own money and/or bodies.

Women would choose to avoid pregnancy rather than terminate it, but increasingly this option (birth control) is being taken away because corporations are people, too, my friend. The owner of Hobby Lobby is against contraception for religious reasons and chooses to force his employees to follow his religious beliefs instead of allowing them the freedom to follow their own religion.

The sooner the people in this country realize and accept that this country was founded on the principle of not only freedom of religion, the freedom to practice individual religions by individual people as well as, and in addition to the freedom to be free of religion entirely, the sooner these arguments will be null and void. We need to stop inflicting our beliefs on others. This country was founded on our differences; we should embrace them.

When my church does their prayer of the faithful, they almost always include a prayer for life, from conception to natural death. Very rarely, but sometimes, they reference abortion directly, and my mind invariably wanders and prays for the women; that they continue to have the freedom of choice; that they have the support, the autonomy, the health care and the reproductive rights that they should have in a free society.

We should be supporting women who choose abortions instead of terrorizing them.

The most recent act of terrorism in Colorado Springs that targeted the Planned Parenthood there killed a woman, not having an abortion, but supporting her friend, a man on his cell phone on the street, and a policeman/security personnel. This is horrible, and the fact that many of us hand-wave it away as collateral damage is more than a little disturbing.

The sooner we get back to our basics of bodily autonomy and religious freedom, the sooner we can move on as a country to more important things – stopping our military involvement, the quagmire, eliminating the gender gap in pay and rights, giving Americans the right to have access to health care that is actually healthy and affordable.

Women, when left to their own devices will make the right choices and the right choice is whatever they feel is right for them, not what you feel is right for them.

In all matters.

The Feast of the Immaculate Conception

The Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception is a holy day of obligation that occurs yearly on December 8th; today. Mary of the Immaculate Conception is the patron of several countries including the United States. She is also the patron of my parish church.

In his Papal Bull, Ineffabilis Deus, Pope Pius IX declared,

“We declare, pronounce and define that the doctrine which holds that the Blessed Virgin Mary, at the first instant of her conception, by a singular privilege and grace of the Omnipotent God, in virtue of the merits of Jesus Christ, the Saviour of mankind, was preserved immaculate from all stain of original sin, has been revealed by God, and therefore should firmly and constantly be believed by all the faithful.”

For the past nine days, we have been praying the Novena of the Immaculate Conception daily, requesting the Holy Mother’s intercession with her Son.

This is the card our parish has been using:

Mary, Mother of Mercy

Immaculate Conception Novena for our parish this year (2015)

Retreat, Day 2: Anointing Mass

My church has a twice yearly Anointing Mass for anointing the sick. It is also called a Healing Mass. Everyone is welcome whether for a physical or a mental ailment. Many of the neighboring nursing homes and assisted living centers bring in their residents for this special mass. This was my third one. I go for both my depression and my knee pain.

Obviously this is for people of the Catholic faith, but belief or not I still think it is a wonderful experience of community and sharing our joy which halves our pain*. Seating is every other pew so the priests can move through to anoint and offer the Eucharist.

There is music and singing; there are prayers and scripture reading. It’s a Mass so it includes the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Eucharist.

The Mass is followed by lunch. I usually attend alone, so it’s always a surprise who I will be sitting with. So many people go to so much trouble, cooking, setting everything up, decorating. There are prayer cards and a favor to take home. One of the volunteers makes them. They are so thoughtful and creative; it makes me want to go home and create something.

In yesterday’s writing, I mentioned having an object to help with meditation and contemplation. Today we were given a small medal with a cutout of a cross. I have been given this week’s object, I see.

I encourage you to look up today’s readings. They are always a link from the past history to our daily lives. One of the things I enjoy about going to Mass so often (usually four times a week) is that despite the words being thousands of years old, they still speak to me. I relate to them on a regular, almost daily, basis.

First Reading: Lamentations 3:17-23

Second Reading: James 5:13-16

Gospel: Mark 7:31-37

My prayer

card:

Julian of Norwich is one of my favorite mystics. Her work is said to be the first one written in English by a woman (1395).

One of my favorite of her quotations struck me when I first heard it. Ironically, when I am in a pessimistic mood, I will still often say that everything will work out; it will be okay.
Her words:

“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well”

is so close to my own sentiment that I did a double take the first time I heard it, which was appropriately at my first healing mass.

[Borrowed and paraphrased with permission from Dumbledore’s Army and the Year of Darkness.]

Griffins and Ginger Snaps

-I write, and I have a blog because of course I do-

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