Joy! Joy! Unspeakable Joy!

"Joy is the infallible sign of the presence of God." (Teilhard de Chardin)


Such a moment occurred last Sunday at a nursing home where one of our elderly parishioners suffering from dementia was being cared for.

Many years ago, Gertrude and I would go together to bring Communion to our shut-in parishioners. She was a painfully shy woman who could not bring herself to go alone but wanted very much to participate in this ministry. Gertrude loved to help the sick and for many years, she nursed people in their homes.

As the years passed, Gertrude herself became homebound and slowly became a victim of dementia. I visited her many times to bring her Communion.

About two years ago, my visits ceased when Gertrude was placed in a nursing home. One of our other parishioners had been visiting her and she continued to do so at the several nursing homes Gertrude was moved in and out of. I could no longer keep track of her because I now had others I was visiting.

We now have a new pastor. One of the things we wanted to do was to introduce him to our shut-ins. This we have begun doing.

However, before taking our priest to visit Gertrude, I wanted to visit her myself to see how she was and to determine whether or not she could receive Communion. Rosemary, who had now visited her many times, thought that Gertrude could no longer understand what the Sacrament was about. That her dementia was too far advanced. So, we arranged a Sunday after Mass when I could accompany Rosemary and another parishioner to visit Gertrude.

We arrived at the nursing home and waited in the parlor until the nurse brought Gertrude to us in her wheelchair. I did not think she would remember me after so long a time, so I said very little.

Rosemary and Mieko sat on either side of Gertrude and were talking to her and showing her the Christmas gift they had brought. Gertrude recognized them. Suddenly she looked over to me; and with a look of incredible joy lighting up her face, she recognized me. I was absolutely overwhelmed... She wouldn't stop looking at me and she wouldn't stop smiling. I went over to her and tenderly stroked her hair as my tears fell. She held out her hand to me and spoke my name several times. Most of her words are now incoherent but she tried hard to communicate with us.

I was so moved because I recognized that this moment was a sacred one for Gertrude and for us who witnessed it. I thank God for this gift.

Even though she cannot speak coherently, she understood what we were saying. I told her the next time I came to visit, I would bring our priest with me. Again, her face broke out in a smile. If we had brought Communion to her that day, she could have received it and understood.

There's a lesson here. We simply don't know what an impact simple actions on our part can have on another person. All those times that Gertrude and I visited the sick together must have meant much more to her than I could ever have guessed.

The joy that God's presence brings was surely in that room with us that day.


Photo by Mieko via IPhone during our visit with Gertrude.

"Souled Out" for Jesus! ~ Choir Anniversary Concert

The church was packed! There was standing room only in the rear of the sanctuary and the choir loft was filled with folks who had found no room downstairs! The date was September 26, 2010 and the Gospel Choir was celebrating its 19th Anniversary!

The choir is actually 33 years old, having been organized in 1977 under the pastorship of Fr. S. We did not celebrate our anniversaries with concerts in the early years; but once the tradition began, we have gotten better and better both as a gospel choir and as people who really know how to celebrate with music and a delicious meal afterwards!

We have always invited other choirs to celebrate with us and they have added their unique styles of Gospel music to ours, so that our celebrations are a spirit-filled and glorious tribute to our God.

This year our guest choirs were the Youth & Children's Choir of Union Baptist Church, The Gospel Voices of Glen Allen, The Maggie Walker Alumni Gospel Choir and The Tribe of Judah of ROK Church Int'l of Ashburn Va.

In addition to the choirs, we were graced with beautiful presentations by the Praise Dance & Flag Ministry of Ministers Iris Pollard and Geri Gatling. The huge white flags, which gave the appearance of wings, accented the music and dance in a stunningly beautiful way. The congregation showed their appreciation with standing ovations!

Our theme this year was "Souled out for Jesus!" and our choir led off with our theme song, "Souled Out!" featuring Jordan W-R as lead singer. This rousing gospel song was followed by the beautiful "It Ain't Over Til It's Over" featuring our own Kim F. We closed out our portion of the concert with "I Will Bless The Lord." All of our hard work in learning these three new songs was rewarded by the appreciation shown by our parishioners and guests!

After the concert, a wonderful repast awaited our guests. The decorating committee had done a great job in making our parish hall festive and beautiful. An abundance of good food had been provided for our guests and all enjoyed themselves.

It was a wonderful evening celebration and we look forward to next year when we celebrate our 20th Anniversary!

The Mirror Image - A Reflection

Recently my parish Gospel Choir was invited to sing at a Baptist Church Revival. We have sung at this church before since our choir director's mother is a member there. Our choir has been together for a long time and we enjoy these kinds of invitations. We are invited to sing at several different events each year.

I was struck by a story that the preacher leading the revival told the congregation. I want to share this story with you because what he said made a deep impression on me.

His story was about a man who was watching a silversmith refining silver. The silversmith had a quantity of silver that he was working with. He grasped a lump of silver with his tongs and aimed the tongs into the fire at its hottest point. The man watching the silversmith asked him what he was doing.

The silversmith replied that this fire was so hot that it would burn away all the impurities in the silver. When the impurities were gone, the silver would be refined and perfect; a thing of beauty. The man questioned the silversmith further and asked: "How do you know when the silver is purified and refined?"

"When I can see my face in it!" replied the silversmith.

The preacher then explained how similar this refining process is to what happens to us when God allows us to experience the sorrows, temptations, tragedies and challenges of our daily lives. We are tested and often given more than we believe we can bear; but through our belief and trust in God, we know that we are being purified and refined so that one day, when God looks at our souls, He will see His Face looking back at Him.

I had never thought of our God refining and purifying us in just this way... Maybe you haven't either. That's why I wanted to share this story with you.

A St. Plurk Adventure at the Scout Jamboree!

Several months ago, Fr. Leo (of Plurk fame) mentioned that he was planning to go to the National Boy Scout Jamboree at Fort A.P.Hill in Virginia in July. I thought, "Wow!"... I could actually envision meeting one of the members of St. Plurk Parish since the site of the jamboree was not too far from my town. So we had a few discussions about the possibility of a visit; and thus it came to pass...

Knowing that the July heat in central Virginia is pretty rough and the humidity makes it even worse, I remembered to apply some sunscreen before I left. I put on my baseball cap and grabbed my water bottle and off I went on my excursion.

I took the scenic route north and had a very pleasant drive. Presently, I arrived at A.P. Hill... There had been very little traffic on the way and I figured this was going to be easy after all. Uh-oh! How wrong I was! I had hardly turned into the gate when ahead of me was the end of a l-o-n-g line of cars, crawling along at a snail's pace.

We had planned on meeting about 1:30 p.m. and it was not yet 1 o'clock so I figured the parking area probably was not too far ahead. Oops! Another wrong guess! The minutes dragged on and it didn't seem that we were getting anywhere. And then I saw the sign: Parking, 6 miles ahead! Good grief! So, I called Fr. Leo and advised him I would be a bit later than expected.

Finally, after I had almost finished my first bottle of water, the parking queue ended up in a field and we were directed where to park. We were herded toward a towering white tent which was the Welcome Tent. All the visitors had to enter the tent before being allowed to search for whomever we were visiting. Good thing too, because by now, nobody had the faintest idea in which direction we should go.

In the tent, we were given a welcome kit and a scouting patch as souvenirs and that vital MAP that would answer all our questions about which direction to go. But wait! We were told that we would have to catch one of the shuttle buses to get anywhere in this humongous complex. The scout explaining it all to me told me that I needed to catch either a red, yellow or orange bus; not a blue bus! The buses were all school-yellow. And where do I catch the bus? "Just walk over there where those bus signs are. Each bus has a colored sign..." I quickly got my water bottle refilled and moved out. The day was extremely hot!

There were several lines and lots of people milling around the bus stop. Nobody seemed to know what to do... A bus arrived and part of one line filed into the bus and off they went., I asked someone how long they had been waiting for a ride and the woman said, an hour!!! Uh-oh! Not good! I was already using up my second refill of water by that time. Luckily, after a few minutes, an official told me that she would help me get on the next bus. It was a blue bus! Who cares! I was finally on the move. We eventually arrived at the bus staging area. What this meant was that we would all have to get off our bus and wait for another! Uh-oh! So it was back out into the hot sun again! I was running out of water again too!

I put in another call to Fr. Leo and told him where I was. Lo and behold, he knew exactly where I was talking about! He told me to walk up the road and he would intercept me. I looked up at the sun and told him I was walking north. Was that the right direction? Yep! That was right. About a half block later, I saw someone who looked familiar walking toward me. That's him!!!! I waved. He had seen me too. After a quick hug, we walked to his camp's site and under some shade trees, we had a nice little visit. However, it had taken me so long to get there that I soon had to leave. There was no telling how long it would take me to get back to the welcome tent with such a confusing shuttle bus situation. And it had gotten much hotter... so hot that the loudspeakers had declared a red alert!

Fr. Leo graciously walked me back to the staging area and presently a parking-lot bus became available and I said goodbye to Fr. Leo and boarded. About twenty minutes later the bus arrived at the welcome tent and parking lot. You can't imagine how happy I was to get back in my car, turn up the air conditioning and be on my way!

It was an interesting adventure and I really enjoyed meeting Fr. Leo, but I can tell you that I will never do something like that again. The summer heat and humidity are not good for an older person. Especially when we all are so used to air conditioned comfort. I had also never imagined how large an area 40,000+ Scouts and their leaders would need. This is a huge complex with lots of activities going on. No wonder the shuttle bus situation is so confusing to a first time visitor. Thank goodness for the jamboree maps!

So that's how it went yesterday!

Our blood is precious!

Once again, my Catholic social networking group has decided to write on a specific topic. Since July brings us the Feast of the Most Precious Blood in the old calendar, someone convinced the rest of us that the Precious Blood should be our topic.

I was very hesitant about this topic because I simply had not thought very much about it, though I receive this Gift several times a week and also on Sunday. But here I am, putting my fingers to the task of typing up a blog article about the Most Precious Blood!

The first thing that came to my mind is how precious blood is to us. Without it, we couldn't exist. The average human body contains 8-10 pints of blood (more or less depending on one's size). A unit of blood is considered a pint. Blood makes up about 7% of our body's weight.

When we are hurt and we see our life's blood seeping away, we immediately try to stanch its flow. We know instinctively that we need that blood to live.

There is another kind of life's blood that we desire to receive and that is the Precious Blood that we are allowed to consume along with Christ's Body at Holy Mass. When I was a child and young woman, only the priest was allowed to receive the Precious Blood at Mass. And he did so in order to complete the entire Sacrifice. As for ordinary folk like me and everybody else, Christ's Body in the form of the Consecrated Bread was our complete communion with the Lord. Of course, we all realized that the Bread was both Body and Blood, soul and divinity, so we were satisfied. It was just one of those things which we didn't question.

But what a joy it was when one of the changes that came about after Vatican II was to bring us the privilege of communicating under both species. The symbolism of receiving under both species is important because it makes us even more aware of how precious the Blood shed by Jesus is for us. Not only is the Body taken and eaten; but the Blood also touches our lips and is consumed together and becomes a part of us.

Receiving the Body and Blood of Christ is as precious to us as our own life's blood. We need both in order to live. However, we don't require 8 pints of Precious Blood in our body. Just a simple sip is all we need...

Lord, we thank you for the Blood you shed for us.

The End of Life as we know it ~ Part 3

For my friend, Doris T_ _ _ , who asked me to speak at her funeral...


I visited Doris soon after her serious bout with pneumonia, a couple of months ago. She had an important favor she wished of me.

"What would you like for me to do?"

And Doris said: "At my funeral, I want you to comfort my family and tell them about me."

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My dear loved ones... Henry, Robin, Tiffany, Mother, Nana girls, sister and brother, other family members and friends. I am truly aware that YOU are the ones who knew Doris best of all...

I think what Doris wanted me to do was to tell you what I understood about her experience of our Heavenly Father and the beauty I found in her heart and soul because she allowed me to see it.

I am the one she entrusted to bring her Holy Communion from this, her beloved parish church, during the times she was unable to attend our services.

It all began two years ago when my pastor told me to expect a call from Doris T_ _ _ , a parishioner I barely knew. Doris told me later that she knew me only as a choir member and a lector but she apparently trusted our pastor's judgement that her desire for privacy about her illness would be safe with me. Anyway, Doris called me and asked me to visit her and to bring her Holy Communion, which she very much desired.

During that first visit, we discovered that our personalities were well matched and our reactions to our life experiences were quite similar. Thus our friendship began.

Doris would phone me when she was ready for another visit... Each time I visited her, we would catch up on what had occurred in our lives since the last visit. Doris was very perceptive and would realize immediately if something was troubling me. Sometimes, Fr. _ _ _ and I visited her together, but most of the time, I visited her alone. Though not really alone for I carried the Body of Christ with me.

Anyway, all of the joys and concerns that we had just shared during the visit became part of the prayer we offered to God in petition and thanksgiving as she prepared to receive Him.

Those moments when Doris received the Body of Christ were holy and tender moments of communion with "her Jesus." Afterwards, I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving for the Gift she had just received and she sometimes added her own prayer to mine.

My dear loved ones, Doris loved the Lord and she knew where her strength and courage would come from. She had a great yearning and desire to be united with Him through receiving the Body and Blood of Christ during Mass. When she was unable to attend Mass because of her illness, she still was able to satisfy that longing and receive Him at home.

I believe this is what she wanted me to share with you.

As for myself, I want to tell you what a privilege and honor it has been for me to be allowed to accompany Doris on that part of her journey. You know I loved her with all my heart and I know she loved me too.

In loving memory...

The End of Life as we know it ~ Part 2

Just a few months ago, I wrote a blog article about my friend, who knowing that she was reaching the end of her journey, asked me to speak at her funeral. You can read the original article here.

She has been in and out of the hospital or rehab center ever since. She has always been a very private person, so I only visited her when she expressly called me to do so.

Last night, I received a phone call from her husband. My friend was again in the hospital and this time, she will not return home. She asked her husband to call me; that she wished me to come to visit her. I said that I would come the next day or Tuesday. Her husband advised me to come the next day...that is how bad off she is.

There was no one in the room when I arrived this morning. Her husband had gone to get something to eat since he had been with her all night. One of the daughters would arrive a bit later. My friend was drifting in and out of sleep since she was heavily sedated. She is on hospice care now. She decided herself that she wanted nothing else done for her except to be kept comfortable. Not only is my friend a private person but she is a strong woman who has tried to keep as much control of her life as she can. She has even written her own obituary! I am in awe of her strength and character.

I went to her bedside and spoke to her. She became alert and recognized me. The first thing she said to me was to remind me of my promise to her. She can hardly speak clearly now but there was no doubt what she was saying to me. I assured her that I would do everything she wanted.

We are in an unfortunate period in my parish right now. We are in a transition time from one pastor to another. The priest who has been caring for my friend's spiritual needs the past 3 years has transferred to another diocese far away. He left in early June. Our new pastor will take over July 1st. In the meantime, we have had a visiting priest to celebrate our Sunday and Wednesday Masses. Neither of these priests know my friend or her family.

I explained all this to her husband who is not Catholic. He wants my help to make the church arrangements. In speaking to her daughter, I was reminded of another priest from a nearby parish who does know her. Hopefully, this priest will be available when the time comes.

I left them with the promise to return tomorrow... My friend's remaining days on earth are getting shorter now. It will soon be time for her to go home to her Heavenly Father.

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Update: My friend entered into the arms of her Heavenly Father on Tuesday, June 22, 2010 around 8:15 p.m.

Talking about Spiders!

There was some discussion on Plurk this evening about Spiders! Spiders are not my favorite among God's creatures; in fact, the larger ones always give me a start. Anyway, the discussion reminded me of the spider that once stalked me!

I was staying with cousins in Germany some years ago, when I encountered this nightmare. It was night and I was reading before going to sleep. I was propped up in my bed with my book. Across the room was a tall wardrobe with a large mirror on its door.

I was musing about what I had just read and so I happened to glance up from my book. There on the wall across the room was a humongous spider! Its body was the size of a quarter and with its long legs, this frightful vision looked as large as the palm of my hand! Yech!

Of course, not one to leave such a spider running loose in the bedroom, I immediately got up and looked for something with which to attack it. I think I picked up one of my shoes and almost on tiptoe, I swatted it on the wall! And missed! I finally hit it and it fell. I couldn't move the furniture to make certain I had killed it, but I guessed I had at least wounded it critically. So back to bed I went and continued reading.

A short while later, I happened to glance up again and much to my dismay, there crawling across the wall was the same humongous spider! Yuck! I hadn't killed it after all! This time I got up and really gave it a whack! Again, it fell behind the furniture; and again, I figured I had killed it for sure. So, back to my book I went.

A few minutes later, I glanced up for the third time; and this time I nearly froze with horror! For there in the reflection of the mirror on the wardrobe door, I saw this horrible spider directly behind me on the wall next to the bed! I jumped out of that bed like a bat out of hell! Thank God for that mirror! It still gives me the shivers to think that I could have had such a huge spider taking a walk across my face during the night...

This time, I slammed that spider everything I had and it's remains on the wall and on my shoe proved to me that I had finally disposed of it! Whew!

I had no trouble sleeping that night...

The next morning I told my cousin about my battle with the spider. My cousin said. "Oh we see a lot of them this time of year. They won't hurt you." Right!

Our Lady of Grace

Several of us from the Catholic Community of Plurk decided to blog an article in honor of Mary since May is dedicated to her. There are many different directions one can take in writing such an article. Here is mine...

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Somewhere in an old picture album is a photograph of a little girl of about five or six with long straight brown hair, all dressed in white. Her arms are filled with hydrangeas and she is marching with a group of other little girls... and boys too... as they process up the sidewalk beside the church in our annual May Procession.

When I was a little girl, our parish membership was several times larger than it is today. We had many families with young children and many activities for both young and old.

Today, my parish is a shadow of its former self. People, long ago, moved out to the suburbs and built new churches and thus, the membership of my inner city parish declined. Now, we have become a parish of older people with fewer young families with children to fill the pews.

I got to thinking about Mary and her place in the life of our parish community. What immediately came to mind was the annual May procession and the crowning of the statue of Our Lady of Grace, which once stood in the sanctuary to the left of the altar. This statue and several others are long gone; sold off during the 1970's when the church was renovated to accommodate the Vatican II changes.

My thoughts went back to that annual procession with boys dressed in their Sunday best and the girls in their white dresses. My arms were filled with blue hydrangeas from my parents' garden at home; other girls carried roses or whatever else was blooming in their family's gardens. I doubt if anyone had any formal bouquets.

As we climbed the steps to the church, mothers would herd us along to keep everyone moving as we fervently sang the Marian hymns that all of us knew from years past. One of the older girls would be selected to crown Our Lady of Grace, a high honor for the one chosen. The rest of us must have gathered around Our Lady of Grace there in the front of the church, watching the May Queen climb the ladder with the crown made of fresh flowers. I don't remember what we did with our own flowers... perhaps we left them at the foot of the statue and later someone placed them in water.

This is a pleasant memory for me because the tradition of a May procession has been lost in our parish. However, the neighborhood is in the beginnings of a resurgence. The beautiful old Victorian homes are being renovated and affordable housing is also on the drawing board, so there is hope for my parish too. In the years to come, young families with children may once again grace the church... Perhaps, these families will bring along their own May traditions. Who knows, a May procession may one day wind its way up the sidewalk again. And inside, Our Lady of Grace may await her earthly crown once more.

I wish I had written this - An excerpt from St. Anselm's Proslogion

I was given this excerpt to reflect on... It really touched me deeply because it reminded me so much of the search for God in my own life. It expressed that yearning that God places in our hearts and souls that only He can fill.


A portion of Chapter 1 of Proslogion by St. Anselm:


Come now, you poor creature, turn your back on your busyness for a little while. For a few moments leave the tumult of your thoughts; throw off the burden of your cares and put aside your wearisome occupations. Make some time for God; rest in God for a while. Enter into the chamber of your mind, exclude everything but God, and what will help you find God; shut the door and search for God. Now say how you long to see God's face. Say to God: Lord, it is your face that I seek. Say it with your whole heart.

Come then, Lord my God, come and instruct my heart where and how to search for you, where and how to find you. Where shall I look for you, Lord, if you are absent and not here? And if you are everywhere, why are you not visible to me? But of course, your dwelling is in light inaccessible. Then where is this light inaccessible, and how can I approach it? Who will guide me and conduct me into it so that I may see you? And then, by what signs, by what visible form shall I know you? I have never seen you; I do not know what you look like, Lord my God. What am I, this exile of yours, to do in a far off land, O most high God, what am I to do? Banished far from your presence and distressed by my love for you, what shall your servant do? With burning desire I strive to see you, and your face is very far from me. I long to come to you, and your dwelling is inaccessible. I wish to find you, and have no idea where you live. I want to search for you and I do not know your face...

O Lord how long? How long, Lord, will you forget us? How long will you avert your face from us?... Look upon us, Lord, listen to us, enlighten us, show yourself to us. Give yourself to us again so that all may be well with us, for without you everything goes wrong for us. Look kindly upon our labors, our strivings to come to you, for apart from you, we can do nothing.

Teach me to seek you, and to the searcher show yourself; for I can neither seek you unless you teach me how, nor find you unless you make yourself known. Let me seek you by my desire and grow in desire by seeking you. Let me find you by loving and grow in love by finding you.


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There is so much to reflect on in these few paragraphs. I hope it will be helpful for you also.

Considering the end of Life as we know it...

"I want you to do something for me," said my friend. She had just finished receiving "the Body of Christ" from me and we had prayed our words of thanksgiving for this wonderful gift.

We were in her room at a rehab center near my home. I was coming straight from Sunday Mass to bring her Holy Communion. She was and is hungry for her Jesus and wants me to come to her whenever I can. She is a woman of deep faith, strength and courage, and I love her... She has become like a sister to me. And the feeling is mutual.

"At my funeral, I want you to say some words of consolation to my family. I want you to tell them about me," she continued. This is the first time she has spoken to me about her death.

"Yes, I will do that for you..." I said.

It only took a moment for me to make up my mind... This was no time to give false hope when we both knew that her illness was severe. I had been with our priest when he anointed her during a recent hospitalization. She was in a coma and the doctors had told her family that they could do no more. She had recovered from pneumonia that time and now, if she can get strong enough with physical therapy, she can go home. But only a miracle can cure her cancer at this end stage.

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I began visiting my friend to bring her Holy Communion about two years ago. She called me one day at the recommendation of our priest and asked if I would visit her. Though my parish is small and I knew who she was, I had not really spoken to her other than a nod or a "hello"... She knew me only as a choir member and a lector.

She had just been diagnosed with a virulent form of cancer and would not be able to come to Mass for awhile because of the aggressive treatment. I had not even noticed that she was missing from the congregation and no one else in the parish except for our priest and her godmother even knew that she was ill. My friend is a very private person. It was not until this last hospitalization that parishioners learned of her illness and could pray for her by name.

I visited her soon after her initial phone call and we connected right away; and so our friendship began. We have marveled many times how God works in bringing people together. How our priest had happened to select the right person for her, and for me too.

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I am really honored to be asked to speak at her funeral and I will tell her story of grace, courage and love.

My friend is preparing herself to leave this world and to enter the next. She is indeed fortunate to be able to do that. Think of how many people are taken in an instant...

But all hope has not been lost for her; for only God knows what He has in store for her. The prayer I said for her after she had received her Jesus, was that God would give her the grace to surrender her life to Him for whatever purpose He had for her. Amen.

Psalm 42 ~ As the Deer panteth for the Water

I was thinking about one of my favorite gospel songs the other day. It is called "As the Deer" and is based on Psalm 42. My gospel choir's version has a few Alleluias at the end which I have never found on any of the commercial renditions of the song that I have listened to. Maybe our choir director at the time we learned this song put the Alleluias there herself. It wouldn't have surprised me...

Rita was a fine musician and played by ear... I'm not sure she could read much music but it didn't hamper her at all. She was a natural. She was a Baptist preacher who was our choir director for 13 years! Strange, isn't it? A Catholic choir director who was a Baptist preacher. Worked for us!

Anyway, the words we sing go like this:

As the deer panteth for the water

So my soul longeth after thee.

You alone are my heart's desire

And I long to worship thee.

You alone are my strength, my shield
(To) you alone does my spirit yield...
You alone are my heart's desire
And I long to worship thee.

Allelu- Alleluia...

O Lord, we praise your name.
All the glory
All the praise...
O Lord, we praise your name.


Here is a uTube version (without the alleluias)

As the Deer

Easter Vigil 2010

I've thought back a lot to the Plurk I wrote yesterday about an incident that occurred before the Easter Vigil on Holy Saturday evening at my parish. It really struck me and made me realize something much deeper was happening than I had at first imagined. So, I thought I would expand the Plurk into a blog article...


Holy Saturday: Keeping Vigil

This evening when I arrived at church, I was carrying a seafood platter for my priest. I found him praying in the sacristy where Jesus had been reserved after Adoration at the Altar of Repose had come to a close on Holy Thursday.

My priest had placed a folding chair there in our small sacristy so that he could come there during the day to pray. Our tabernacle in the sanctuary stood empty, its doors open. The Altar of Repose had been removed the day before...

My priest knew that I would be arriving soon with the seafood platter, which would be his Easter breakfast since he was fasting. For how long, I knew not...

He heard me as I approached the doorway behind him. As he got up, he told me I should take his place in the chair and pray for the next ten minutes while he took the food over to the rectory. He said he had been praying specifically for Pope Benedict and I was to continue his prayer until he returned. He even reminded me a second time before he left.

Being the dutiful parishioner that I am, I sat down and spent the next few minutes in prayer for our pope. The door to the little sacristy cabinet where Jesus was reserved was open and I could see the ciborium there. Jesus was waiting...

When my priest returned, he took my place in front of the Blessed Sacrament and continued his prayer. And I left to do my duties in the church, helping to prepare for the Vigil.

The chain of prayer had remained unbroken... And the exposed Sacrament had not been left alone.

Were you there, when they crucified my Lord...

I used these reflections as I led the Stations of the Cross on Good Friday at my parish. Perhaps they will be helpful for others...


First Station: Jesus is condemned to death

Jesus prays: Father, in the Garden of Gethsemane, I begged You to let this cup pass from me. But I knew even then that I would accept it and that Your Will would be my destiny. Pilate has given me over to people who hate me. They cry out for me to be crucified... and I am afraid.

Second Station: Jesus carries His Cross

Jesus prays: Father, help me in this, my final journey. They have crushed a crown of thorns on my head; they have scourged my body; and now, they have thrust a heavy cross across my bleeding back... Father, please give me the strength to carry this cross up Calvary Hill. I feel so alone... but I know You are with me. And Father, I forgive them...

Third Station: Jesus falls the first time

Jesus prays: Oh Father, the cross is too heavy. My body is too weak. I can scarcely see what is ahead of me and I have stumbled and fallen. The people are mocking me as they drag me to my feet again... Father, help me...

Fourth Station: Jesus meets His afflicted Mother

Jesus and His Mother speak: Mother... Mother...
My son, my precious son... If only I could take your place... But I will walk with you... I will never leave you... I love you...

Fifth Station: Simon of Cyrene helps Jesus to carry His Cross

Simon speaks: The soldiers are pushing me toward the cross and are forcing me to help a man carry it. Will they crucify me too? Oh, God, behold the man... I recognize him. Truly, he is now a man of sorrows and familiar with suffering. Jesus, I will help you...

Sixth Station: Veronica wipes the Face of Jesus

Veronica speaks: What have they done to my Lord? He is like someone from whom people hide their faces. They despise and reject him. My Lord, let me wipe the blood from your face...

Seventh Station: Jesus falls the second time

Jesus prays: Father, give me courage... People are crowding around me. I can scarcely breathe... I am so tired. I stumble and fall hard on the sharp cobblestones. The soldiers are dragging me to my feet once more, because I have no strength left. They will not let me die here...

Eighth Station: Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem

Jesus speaks: Father, the crowd has gotten larger and among the people are many of the women who used to accompany me. Their tears touch my heart. Despite my anguish, I want to comfort them. Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but for yourselves and for your children.

Ninth Station: Jesus falls a third time

Jesus prays: Father, I cannot go on... I am sick unto death. I have lost too much blood... The way has become steeper because we are climbing Calvary Hill. Again, I slip on the jagged stones and am crushed to the ground by the weight of the cross... I know the end of my journey is near. Your Will is hard, Father, but I put my hope and trust in You. There is nothing else...

Tenth Station: Jesus is stripped of His clothes

Jesus prays: Father, I have reached my destination. Here I stand on Calvary Hill. They have taken my clothes and are casting lots for them. They taunt and revile me in my nakedness. I have been led like a lamb to the slaughter. Soon I will be cut off from the land of the living... Stay near me, Father... I need You...

Eleventh Station: Jesus is nailed to the Cross

Jesus prays: Oh my Father, the pain is so great I can hardly bear it. These hand that have healed your people... These hands that have blessed their children... These hand that have broken the bread and blessed the cup... These hand have almost been split apart by the spikes nailed through them. My feet that have walked in your paths, will do so no more in this life. As the cross is raised, my body is now being dragged down by my weight... and I am in agony...

Twelfth Station: Jesus dies on the Cross

Jesus speaks and prays his final words:

Father, forgive them, they don't know what they are doing...

Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise...

My God, my God, why have You forsaken me...

I'm so thirsty...

It is finished...

Father, into Your hands, I commend my spirit...

Thirteenth Station: The body of Jesus is taken down from the Cross

Mary speaks: Be careful... Be gentle with him... John, bring me my son. I want to hold him in my arms one last time... Oh, my precious Jesus... My son...

Fourteenth Station: Jesus is laid in the tomb

Joseph of Arimathea speaks: Mary, I have a tomb already hewn into the rock. We will wrap the body of Jesus in a linen cloth and will lay him there. I will seal the tomb with a large stone so no one can steal his body...


Our Heavenly Father speaks to US: Through his suffering, my servant shall justify many, and their guilt he shall bear. Therefore, I will give him his portion among the great and he shall divide the spoils with the mighty, because he surrendered himself to death and was counted among the wicked; And he shall take away the sins of many, and win pardon for their offenses. Is 53:11-12

Ways That Lead Nowhere; and the Awareness of Sin

From Psalm 139:

"Look into me, God, and know my heart;
Examine me and know my paths.
See if I am wandering on ways that lead nowhere,
And set my feet on the path to eternity."


Lord, you showed me very painfully that I had wandered on a way that leads nowhere...

That what I was mentally accusing others of, was precisely my own sin. The arrogance and pride that I attributed to others also resided in my own soul. That the anger and disgust I felt for the persons involved was my judgement of them - something I have no right to do.

Oh, my sin hit me like a rock! I was humbled. I was shocked... because I saw so clearly that I was no better than what I was attributing to others. And that sin was eroding and destroying my soul.

Have mercy on me, Lord... and forgive me. The Lord heard my plea.

As I was deciding what to do about the situation, the phone rang. It was my priest. After our conversation, I said I had something to ask of him: "After our parish meeting tonight, will you hear my confession?"

God is good...

How to Ruin a Good Thing - A Cautionary Tale

As I was praying the OOR this morning, I was struck by a line from Psalm 69: "Idlers at the gate speak against me."

Can't you picture these folks at the entrance of a city or a courtyard gate anywhere, having nothing better to do than to spread gossip and rumors about other people? I can...

Oh yes... and then I remembered an incident that happened to me a long time ago. Here is the story of how I ruined a good thing.

Maybe about 30 years ago, I was working as social minister in my parish. I would be in the parish office a couple days a week, taking calls and visits from people who needed assistance. I liked doing this kind of ministry and I learned a lot during those years.

One day, one of my parishioner friends phoned me and said: "Do you realize that there are rumors going around about you?" What!?

And she proceeded to tell me what was being said and who was spreading the rumors. I was shocked, stunned, disbelieving, hurt, angry and frightened... I immediately went to my priest and told him what was being said. He simply shrugged it off and said: "This happens all the time. If you can't stand the heat; get out of the kitchen!" Not exactly what I wanted to hear...

What to do... what to do? I certainly wasn't going to "get out of the kitchen"... I had done nothing wrong. But there were surely "idlers at the gate" who wished me harm with their gossip.

Here is what I decided to do. I thanked my friend for telling me what was happening. I decided I would not acknowledge any of the rumors. I would not confront the person either. I simply went on about my business and did my work as I always had.

The woman who was spreading the rumors was very active in the parish and was doing a lot of good and commendable work there. At every opportunity, when people gathered and happened to mention her name, I would always make sure to say something complimentary about her and to acknowledge all the good she was doing. I never spoke badly or complained about her even when I heard others do so. When our paths crossed, I always made a point to be pleasant to her.

I guess, eventually the rumors stopped... No one else ever brought them to my attention. People realized that they were untrue; and eventually, the woman left the parish.

So... you may be thinking, that I really handled that situation well, so how did I ruin a good thing?

Well... even though I recognize that I had handled it in the best possible manner, this episode is forever tainted in my mind because I fell right into the evil one's trap! Pride replaced the good decisions I had made... how happy I was because the woman had left the parish. I had my revenge for the hurt she caused me...

Look how quickly evil can replace good. How pride and ego can slip in... How vengefulness can overcome honor and honesty in dealing with others... The purity of my motives had disappeared. Sad, isn't it...

There was a concluding prayer today in the OOR:

"In your goodness Lord, fill us with your grace.
Make us draw back from our human excesses
And hold fast to the heavenly wisdom that is your gift."

In My Hands

Something quite beautiful happened today. My priest and I were planning to visit a parishioner this morning to bring her Jesus. I had just placed a Host in my pyx when my priest came into the church. I was getting ready to hand him my pyx when he said that he had come to tell me that he was ill with a fever and could not visit our parishioner. I was holding the pyx in my hand.

I had something that I wanted to speak to my priest about and asked him if we could talk for a few minutes before I left to take Jesus to our friend. He agreed. I was holding the pyx in my hand...

We talked for several minutes. As I was listening to him, I was very moved by what he was saying. I was thinking to myself, "This is truly a holy priest." I was really grateful to be his friend. I thought these things as I was holding the pyx in my hand.

As we finished our conversation, I had a strong desire to receive a blessing from him... something I had never asked of him before.

"Before I leave, would you give me your blessing?"

"No," said my priest. "You don't need my blessing... You are holding the Blessed Sacrament in your hands..."

There's much more to it than I thought!

Peregrin over at Perspectives of a Wanderer wrote an interesting article about his first meeting with a spiritual director. It got me to thinking.

A couple years ago, the idea came to me that I should have some spiritual direction. I had no idea what that really meant; but I did have the feeling that I needed some help in the area of my spirituality, since I seemed to be going nowhere fast! So I went to my priest and asked if he could help me. He agreed...

A couple of months later, after what I thought was progress, my priest gently told me that he could no longer direct me. He told me that there were things he wanted to correct me about but was unable to do so because we were also friends and he did not wish to hurt me. He recommended I call a friend of his, an order priest (Fr. J) who he felt would be better able to direct me.

It took a few weeks before I could connect with Fr. J... left a phone message, email, etc. Not hearing anything, I got really discouraged and went back to my priest and said I had no luck in contacting Fr. J. As it happened, the Holy Spirit intervened and soon afterwards, my priest ran into the order priest, mentioned that one of his parishioners had been trying to contact him. Fr. J acknowledged he had gotten the messages but had had no time to respond.

That very afternoon, I received a call from Fr. J, who immediately set up a meeting at the local abbey for a week or so later. And thus my real spiritual direction began.

I was nervous about that first meeting. I didn't know what would happen; whether we could work together; whether I would be able to trust someone I didn't know... Probably what most people will experience in such a situation.

So the afternoon of the appointment, I drove to the abbey, went in and waited. Finally around the corner, Fr. J appeared, dressed in his cassock. As soon as he saw me, he opened his arms wide and gave me a big hug! I knew then, that I was in the right place!

What has amused me so much, is that here I am, a left-of-moderate Catholic and who have I ended up with? A traditional priest as my spiritual director!

His first advice? I must trust the Holy Spirit completely; that I must have patience and I must be prepared to take little steps at a time. I've never forgotten that advice.

I decided to write this little article because so many people wishing spiritual direction aren't sure how to go about it. This is how it happened for me.

Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Mo

What to do... What to do...

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday and I am still up in the air as to what I want to give up or do extra for Lent. I had no problem deciding what to do last year because I discovered two weekday Masses at a local hospital chapel that I began attending. I was so happy about that and have now made it a given to attend them each week. I met many nice folks because of it and even more importantly, I was able to receive my Lord Jesus more often.

This year I have thought of several different ways to enrich my Lenten experience but nothing has grabbed me as tightly as those extra Masses did last year. Here is a list of some of the things I thought about and that I am considering and will probably offer up for Lent:

1. I would like to spend some real quality time in meditation. I have only done this hit or miss. I have to find a way not to become so easily distracted. It's probably because I am older and thus my mind wanders more easily to daily happenings.

2. I recently bought Ascent of Mount Carmel by St. John of the Cross. I'm pretty sure I will begin reading that book tomorrow. I love to read anyway and always have a book or two at hand (I own a bookshop which makes my habit convenient!).

3. Lent is always a good time to lose some weight so I will do my best to desist from my favorite crunchies... Even my son (who lives with me and is not a believer) has said no more cookies for him! That will save me on my grocery bill, don'cha think!

4. I have one of those coin boxes from Church that are given out before Lent to place one's change in for the poor... Maybe some of that extra grocery money can find its way into that.

5. And now a biggie! What to do about my life on the internet. Between Plurk, Facebook, Chat and special websites that I visit, I spend a lot of time online. Some things I do require a web presence for me but there is a lot of time that I spend online that is not necessary. And there is lots that I put off that needs to be done at home... Well, I guess I answered my own question...

6. There is also lots in my spiritual life that needs work... I'll just have to take those things a day at a time and see if I can remove some of the things that keep me from God.

So, that's about it! I would guess many of you are in the same boat as I am... Wanting to make a difference in our lives... Not sure exactly how to go about it except with little steps and with big trust in the Holy Spirit...

AMEN!

ChitChat in the Chapel

This blog post came about from a reflection I read this morning over at Fr. Charles' fine blog, a minor friar. His reflection, Toying with the Talkers, is well worth a read. Fr. Charles loves his early morning, 6:45 a.m. daily Mass and arrives in plenty of time to pray and meditate before it is time to begin Mass. BUT his plans for a quiet time of meditation are continually foiled because his faithful parishioners also arrive early and spend the time before Mass chatting - and apparently not very quietly!

Anyway, I had to chuckle about his story of the chitchat going on before Mass because I have had to endure the same thing. Let me explain:

Last year for Lent, I decided to try to find a Mass nearby that I could attend as part of my Lenten resolutions. I discovered a twice-a-week Mass in the chapel of the local Catholic hospital not far from my home. The chapel is served by the pastor of the nearby church, actually my territorial parish, which I do not attend, since I prefer my birth parish in the nearby city.

So, I began to attend this Mass. The regulars at the Mass are a tight knit group, older people like me, who have gotten to know each other well over the years. Introvert that I am, I tried to keep to myself at first... I arrived earlier than the others and so thought, "Wow, I'll have some time to meditate and pray to Jesus in the tabernacle!" NOT!

For too soon, the regulars began to arrive and the chitchat started! At first I was annoyed... Where was my meditation time? God, I really need some quiet time with You...

But guess what? It wasn't too long before they asked who I was... where I went to church... whether I was interested in lectoring during the Mass along with the 2 or 3 other people who take turns each time... and introduced me around.

And something else had begun to happen. I began to realize that this little community of people care very very much for each other. They look out for each other. If someone is missing they want to know why. They are also willing to let a stranger into their midst. They are Catholics who have a great love of the Mass. They want to be here... They want to be among their friends and as a community, we worship and pray and offer the Sacrifice together with the priest. What more can I ask...

Although I truly miss time to have an extended period to meditate and pray in this chapel on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, I take what time I can... Then when my neighbor turns to me to ask a question or to tell me something that I might be interested in knowing, I try to be there for her without annoyance... God must simply have other plans for me those two mornings...