Are you making progress in your reading of Laudato Si, the Pope’s encyclical on “The Care of Our Common Home?” I am working through it. Of course, we all read with our own perspective. For me, Pope Francis is trying to extend a moral sense of vision to us all. He affirms the inherent dignity of all creation due to each creature and all creation bearing an imprint of its Creator. Pope Francis references this latter point when he says that, “The Franciscan saint [Bonaventure] teaches us that each creature bears in itself a specifically Trinitarian structure, so real that it could be readily contemplated if only the human gaze were not so partial, dark and fragile.” (no. 239) The Holy Father calls us to follow the example of St. Bonaventure in terms of contemplation, coming to “discover God in all things.” (no. 233) Continue reading
Category Archives: Musings
Choosing the prophet
As we move through the summer months there are a few things one could notice about the readings on Sundays. We have been reading from the Gospel of Mark, following Jesus as he gets a poor reception in his own home town and then sends disciples out on a mission of their own. This weekend the Sunday Gospel has the disciples returning from their mission. Jesus sees their condition and takes them to a place of rest. And likely, much like your life, things get in the way. The demands of their responsibilities lead them off-plan from rest in order to care for the people because Jesus saw the people with compassion. This is a prelude to recounting the miraculous feeding of the 5,000. Next weekend (and for the four following weekends) our Gospel will begin to cover this key event in Jesus’ ministry through the Gospel of John. Continue reading
Up to now…
This Wednesday marks the Feast Day of one of the great figures in Franciscan history – St. Bonaventure of Bagnoregio – as well as the 10th anniversary of our Franciscan presence in this historic downtown parish. St. Bonaventure is a good model of what it means to be a Franciscan, while at the same time being a priest and in leadership positions in a parish. Bonaventure reminded the friars of his day that our first vocation is as “brother.” At the core of our charism, we are a fraternity in mission to the People of God striving to continue our Order’s 800-year-old mission: bringing the Gospel into the everyday experience of men and women through our life in fraternity and compassionate service to all. Continue reading
Remembering Freedom
OK, pop quiz time. Who were the “Freedom Riders?” My random (and quite small) sample yielded some interesting answers. The most common was a speculation that it was an organized motorcycle ride akin to the “Rolling Thunder” ride in Washington D.C. around Memorial Day. As it turns out the initial “Rolling Thunder” ride was officially titled “Ride for Freedom.” These rides are a way to bring full accountability for prisoners of war (POWs) and missing in action (MIA) service members of all U.S. wars. It was a good guess and in their way, the Rolling Thunder rides honor those who struggled to preserve our freedom. But they are not the “Freedom Riders.”
On the 4th of every July, as a nation, we celebrate freedom. OK…another pop quiz: what is freedom. Before reading on, pause here and give it some thought. Merriam-Webster initially defines it as “the quality or state of being free.” I don’t think that advances our understanding very much, but they do go on, offering, “the absence of necessity, coercion, or constraint in choice or action.” That is a lot closer to the understanding offered by Anselm of Canterbury some 1,000 years ago. Anselm wrote that if one’s idea of freedom is centered on choice – however true – it is an impoverished sense of freedom. Continuing on, Anselm offered that to be truly free is to be unburdened. Unburdened so that there are no obstacles, barriers, or obstructions to impede your journey to God, so that arriving before God you can experience the great paradox. To be truly free is to have no choice at all. There is only Love.
I am old enough, and having grown up in the South, still remember the water fountains in Belks and JC Penny’s labeled “Colored” and “Whites Only.” I can recall the overt and covert rules of racism in the ways in which buses were ridden, sidewalks traversed, and the one that confused me the most: calling an adult black man or woman by their first name. I never could bring myself to do that. I would at least add Mr. or Mrs. before their first name. When one tells these stories to my nieces, nephews, and their children, it is kinda’ fun to see their expression. It is a look of disbelief and “what planet did you grow up on?” And I am glad that it is that way for them.
Back to the quiz. Who were the “Freedom Riders?” The year was 1961 when a group of 13 African-American and white civil rights activists launched the Freedom Rides, a series of bus trips through the American South to protest segregation in interstate bus terminals. The Freedom Riders, who were recruited by the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE), a U.S. civil rights group, departed from Washington, D.C., and attempted to integrate facilities at bus terminals along the way into the Deep South. African-American Freedom Riders tried to use “whites-only” restrooms and lunch counters, and vice versa. The group encountered tremendous violence from white protestors along the route, but also drew international attention to their cause. Over the next few months, several hundred Freedom Riders engaged in similar actions. In September 1961, the Interstate Commerce Commission issued regulations prohibiting segregation in bus and train stations nationwide.
On Mother’s Day, May 14th , 1961, a Greyhound bus carrying Freedom Riders arrived in Anniston, Alabama. There, an angry mob of about 200 white people surrounded the bus, causing the driver to continue past the bus station. The mob followed the bus in automobiles, and when the tires on the bus blew out, someone threw a bomb into the bus. The Freedom Riders escaped the bus as it burst into flames, only to be brutally beaten by members of the surrounding mob.
In 1961, the Freedom Riders weren’t risking life and limb simply around choice, they were taking aim at the burdens carried by people of color then – and now. They were striving for freedom in the deepest sense of its meaning, to be unburdened, to turn their energies away from navigating the burdens of racism dictating where they could walk, have a drink of water, or sit. They strove to live without unneeded obstacles, barriers, or obstructions. They wanted to live free.
We often reflect on the great price our military men and women have paid in order that we live as free people, enjoying the freedoms of life in this country, where we enjoy freedom of speech, freedom of religion, and so many other freedoms enshrined in our Constitution. And we should reflect upon and be grateful for their service and their lives given for our freedom.
Let us also then remember Corporal Roman Ducksworth Jr., US Army, a military police officer stationed in Maryland, on leave to visit his sick wife when he was ordered off a bus by a police officer in Taylorsville, Mississippi and shot dead on April 9, 1962. The police officer thought Ducksworth was a “Freedom Rider.”
Let us not forget freedom’s price, its history, and that when together we are unburdened from our presumptions, fears, and prejudices, then, and only then, can we be truly free. There will be no choice; only Love.
Change – can do
I suspect our attitude towards change is like our attitude towards death and taxes — it should be postponed as long as possible. But change is inevitable, natural, and part of the fabric of our lives, our families, and our parish community. Change can be exciting, thrilling, sad, and more – all at the same time. Sometimes change brings about the experience of an appreciation of what was, once the change has occurred. That too is probably inevitable, but, it seems to me, even more sad. Hopefully we are mindful and appreciative of what is “now,” and the good that lies ahead. Continue reading
Saving Lives – a cautionary tale
On a dangerous seacoast where shipwrecks often occur, there was once a crude little lifesaving station. The building was just a hut and there was only one boat, but the few devoted members kept a constant watch over the sea, and with no thought for themselves went out day and night tirelessly searching for the lost. Many lives were saved by this wonderful little station, so that it became famous. Some of those who were saved, and various others in the surrounding area, wanted to become associated with the station and give of their life and money and effort for the support of the work. New boats were bought and new crews were trained. The little lifesaving station grew. Continue reading
God’s Kingdom Come
“This is how it is with the kingdom of God; it is as if a man were to scatter seed on the land and would sleep and rise night and day and the seed would sprout and grow, he knows not how. Of its own accord the land yields fruit, first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear.” (Mark 4:26-28)
Sometimes I think we are too quick to be comforted by the Scriptures we hear in church and consider in Bible Study, like the parable above. Maybe it is about the wonder of faith or the need to be ready to bring in the harvest. Or it might be about our complete inability to control the coming kingdom as though our believing (or not) affects its coming. This second possibility is uncomfortable because it leaves us vulnerable. God’s kingdom comes apart from our efforts, cannot be controlled or influenced, and can only be received as a gift. In this sense, faith is apparently a lot more like falling in love than making a decision. Because faith, like love, is something that comes from the outside and grabs hold of you, whether you want it to or not. Continue reading
Words that surprise
I love etymology – the study of the origin of words. Today’s word from Merriam-Webster is “bellwether.” I have to admit I was surprised at the spelling. I never gave much thought to a word I know and hear, but rarely have seen written. I assumed it was “bellweather.” Of course growing up I also thought the second month of the year was “Febuary” – think about it. Few people distinctly pronounce the “r” in February.
Before reading on, do you have any guesses as to the origin of the word? I am generally, “OK” if it is a Latin derivation, but Old English always surprises…Nonetheless – the origin of “bellwether”: “We usually think of sheep more as followers than leaders, but in a flock one sheep must lead the way. Long ago, it was common practice for shepherds to hang a bell around the neck of one sheep in their flock, thereby designating it the lead sheep. This animal was called the bellwether, a word formed by a combination of the Middle English words belle (meaning “bell”) and wether (a noun that refers to a male sheep that has been castrated). It eventually followed that bellwether would come to refer to someone who takes initiative or who actively establishes a trend that is taken up by others. This usage first appeared in English in the 13th century.” (Merriam-Webster Word of Day for June 10, 2015)
Who knew? Well… based on search for images to accompanying this post, I am perhaps the last soul on the face of the earth to know!
On the Sidewalk
Sunday is a day when it is easy to find a priest if you want to mention, ask, or chat about something. Most topics are simple and straight forward, but once in a while someone asks a question that is very different from the others. It is then that the conversation is too important to have on the sidewalk but is better suited to a moment when time is more available and others are not waiting to chat or to simply offer their greetings.
Some time ago, a person asked if I thought there are “times we need to forgive God?” My first reaction was, “Sorry, could you repeat that?” Definitely one of those “can we talk about this in the office?” questions. That is when the person let me know they were a visitor. The best I could offer in the moment was, “I will have to think about that.” Continue reading
Consecrated
Growing up in the South I acquired an affinity for revivals and the accompanying pace, inflection, and power of the tent preacher. I think I inherited it from my father who sometimes would take us over to Pine Street on a Sunday evening. I can remember sitting outside the Pentecostal church and hearing the rhythmic call and response of the congregation. Continue reading