A New Old Way to Pray

I am stunned. I have been a Catholic since baptism, just weeks after my birth day, 64 years ago. I have worked in the Church for the past 28 years, have taken graduate level courses on centering prayer, and yet have only recently come to adopt this method for myself. What took me so long, I think! And now I sit here, looking at my computer screen, bewildered as to how to share with you the wonder that I have discovered. Centering Prayer is, according to the contemplative outreach website, “a method of silent prayer that prepares us to receive the gift of contemplative prayer, prayer in which we experience God’s presence within us, close than breathing, closer than thinking, closer than consciousness itself. This method is both a relationship with God and a discipline to foster that relationship.” Does that tell you anything? It is a type of prayer in which we put our own agendas completely aside and wait on God. We dismiss any thoughts worries, problems, ideas – anything which is our agenda, and wait on God to come to us, usually at an unconscious level. It is as easy, and as difficult, as that. Why difficult? -because we have minds, and the job of the mind is to think. To suspend that function, i.e., to let go of our own agendas, takes practice and discipline. To find God in silence, which is really the only appropriate medium, is the goal, for anytime we use words, we immediately limit God, who is limitless, unfathomable to the human mind. I can only tell you that I have been practicing this 40 minutes per days for the past five weeks (2 20-minute periods daily) and I have been given the gift of consolation. I feel joy: true, deep-down joy. I can’t explain it; I don’t know if it will be a lasting thing, or if it is encouragement to continue in this type of prayer…I don’t make any claims, other than it is. If you have an opportunity to take a contemplative prayer workshop (they are everywhere, in every city), you might consider it. This may not be for you, but then again, it may just be the door to something you have never even known possible.
THE VIEWS EXPRESSED IN THIS BLOG ARE MINE ALONE AND
DO NOT NECESSARILY REFLECT THOSE OF MY EMPLOYER.

...but Catholics don't DO that!

At St. Helen Parish we have a very active evangelization team. We study books, read articles, and generally nose around for any new ideas which might help us be more effective in our ministry. Recently we were fascinated to read an article which detailed a door-to-door effort by a Washington parish and thought we had the moxie, after 4 years together, to try this ourselves. With a mission on the horizon, this seemed like an optimum time to let our neighbors know what we are about. Our first job was to decide what the visits would look like. We wanted to put something in the hands of those we visited and came up with a goody bag supplied with the following: parish bulletin, fliers for Lenten offerings (mission, Lunch with the Lord), a school brochure, a holy card of St. Helen with our Mass times on the back, a pen with our parish logo imprinted, a couple of pieces of candy, a half sheet listing four other neighborhood Christian churches and their phone numbers, a business card with parish contact information, a prayer request sheet (in case anyone wanted to send us a prayer request later). Six EV teams members assembled 500 bags in about an hour and a half. Next we tackled recruiting additional people to be walkers with us. It was a hard sell, and some who agreed did so very tentatively, but expressed a desire to go beyond their comfort zone, and this certainly fit the bill! Then we focused on the “script” for our visits and settled on: ‘Good morning; we’re from St. Helen Parish and are having a mission next week. We’ll be praying for a lot of things and wondered if there is anything you would like us to pray for.’ The group met at 9:30 on the Saturday morning before our mission. After some instruction, we went to the chapel and prayed for the success of the endeavor. Then, each team took a route map, prepared ahead of time by an EV member. As doors opened, we led into the script, asking first for prayer intentions. Pleasantly surprised, many of those visited did give us specific prayer requests which we recorded and later gathered together to fill four pages! We then thanked the folks and gave them the bag, saying ‘Here’s some information about us. Enjoy your weekend.’ It was clean, simple, and very well received by those visited. In about two hours, ten two-person teams visited approximately 375 homes. But wait- the best is yet to come…When we got back together to swap stories, it was clear that evangelization happened as much to the visitors as to those visited! Teams related incidents of praying with folks at the doors of three separate homes where dire need existed, of sharing tears over recently deceased family members, of consoling someone going through a divorce. One person expressed amazement that we were Catholics! Her impression of Catholics had been nothing but negative prior to the visit. One of our tentative visitors proclaimed the experience “awesome!” The prayer requests were placed on the altar during our mission and emailed to all parishioners on our prayer chain (about 350 people). Five of those who received the email responded by saying they want to be part of the next neighborhood walk.

There were a number of learning that came out of our experience. First, we will begin at 11 next time instead of 10 AM. It seems we may have caught some folks sleeping in on their day off. Second, we’ll go into a different neighborhood next time just to move around our parish boundaries. Third, it was suggested that we could have used a couple of more Jolly Ranchers in each of the bags! Fourth, one visitor suggested that we ask if they or any of their family members may have prayer requests; she felt that some may have been embarrassed to ask for themselves. And finally, we learned that door-to-door evangelization is not at all scary; in fact, it is downright awesome!

A Searching Soul

My friend Matt died last Friday. Throughout his career, he was a brilliant researcher at Wright Patt AFB, and a self-proclaimed atheist who nevertheless met with believers regularly to wrestle with the concept of a religious faith. I came to know Matt about ten months ago when he attended Awakening Faith, here in our parish. This was a program for those who felt estranged from Catholicism but were looking for a way back. Matt was not one of these people, but he had a daughter who was Catholic, and she wrenched a promise from him that he would participate, even after she returned home to New York. (Matt once told me, “I raised both of my daughters to be atheists, then this one became Catholic a few years ago. I don’t know where I went wrong.”) So Matt did indeed keep his promise and attended the six sessions, enchanting each of us with his stories and the depth of his search for meaning. He shamed us Catholics by quoting scripture and giving us extended scholarship on certain biblical passages. Even as we felt that he was so close to accepting Christ into his life, in the end, these sessions did not challenge his position. For the following months, until shortly before his death, we would email and continue to exchange ideas. His thoughts were very cerebral, while my ideas came from a passionate faith coupled with experience. He was diagnosed with cancer about six weeks ago and his decline was rapid. I saw him last Monday as he lay in the hospital, telling me, with short, gasping breaths, that he just wanted to dissolve. But here’s the thing- his daughter sat at his bedside two days before his death and quietly recited the Hail Mary for her own comfort, and as she looked down at her dad, his lips were moving in recitation with her. And a few hours before his death, his daughter opened her bible and read the Beatitudes to him (the Sermon on the Mount was a favorite of Matt) and looked at his face, discovering there a tear in his eye. When I received notice of his death, my heart ached even as a half smile crossed my lips and the words, “See Matt? We told you so,” were repeated in my mind. Rest now, my friend, in the joy and love and compassionate embrace of our magnanimous God. Matthew Kabrisky: 1930 – 2011.

Fascinate

John Shea writes the most amazing gospel commentaries. The one he has written for this Sunday’s gospel, where Simon and Andrew, James and John are summoned to be disciples of Jesus, is again completely filled with extraordinary insight. But the word that caught me most by surprise was “fascinated.” He talks about a disciple as someone who is fascinated by another – so much so that s/he wants to do everything like that other person. Think about it – think about someone with whom you have been fascinated. You watch the person, you think about the person, you want to be around the person, and pretty soon you may be trying to imitate the person. This person HAS your attention. Teens are fascinated by their rock stars, so much so that they dress like them, sing their songs, follow them in the news, and many dream of having that particular lifestyle as adults themselves. Who fascinates us? Google gives us the cultural top ten in “trending now” on their homepage. Is this where our attention is focused? Maybe that’s why the first disciples left their nets so willingly – they were fascinated by Jesus. They wanted to be with him; they wanted to do what he did, say what he said. Enter into the world of the first disciples; be fascinated again.

Notes For the Holidays

The times I get the largest number of comments on my blog are the times I write about incidents with my dad. (Nearly all of the comments, by the way, are sent to me directly so they don’t get posted- but please, post them!) People have been able to identify with many of those incidents. With that in mind, I offer this modern-day list of beatitudes, for dealing with the elderly. I heard this on youtube; perhaps you have heard it also. If you have the opportunity, take these into consideration as you gather with family over the holidays:
Blessed are they who understand
my faltering steps and shaking hand.
Blessed are they who know my ears today
must strain to catch the things they say.
Blessed are they who seem to know
that my eyes are dim and my wits are slow.
Blessed are they who looked away
when I spilled the coffee at table today.
Blessed are they with a cheery smile
who take the time to chat for a while.
Blessed are they who know the ways
to bring back memories of yesterdays.
Blessed are they who make it known
that I’m love, respected, and not alone.

May you have a blessed Christmas, remembering that Christ can be born again into this world only if you incarnate him in your own life.

THE VIEWS EXPRESSED ON THIS BLOG ARE MINE ALONE
AND DO NOT NECESSARILY REFLECT THOSE OF MY EMPLOYER.

What Did You Do?

I was watching a short video the other day by Michael Himes, a priest on the faculty of Boston College, and he was talking about Matthew 25, the last judgment. He began by pointing out that the great medieval cathedrals of Europe almost all have the same depiction above their doors. It is not the nativity, nor the crucifixion, nor the resurrection, nor Jesus teaching, nor any of those pericopes we remember so vividly from scripture, but Matthew 25, the description of the last judgment. Everyone had to pass under that depiction before entering the churches. At the time of the last judgment, according to Matthew 25, Jesus will not ask us how much theology we studied, or how many religious books we read, or how many church services we attended; we will simply be asked one question: how did you treat the least of your brethren? This is the criterion for salvation – what did we do with what we knew. Did our study of scripture or the hours on our knees lead to anything beyond ourselves? -because if not, we have mistaken the message. What did you do for the least of your brethren? How did you reach beyond yourself today to hurting humanity? Do you live a practical piety? It is a deceptively simple criterion, one which makes no distinctions between the most learned and most humble, and yet it is everything. What did you do…what did you do…what did you do for those most in need?
THE VIEWS EXPRESSED ON THIS BLOG ARE MINE ALONE AND DO NOT NECESSARILY REFLECT THOSE OF MY EMPLOYER.

Uncoupled

We had a crowd around the table for Thanksgiving – some family, and two couples who were friends. Among the family was my 95-year-old dad, hard of hearing and legally blind. One of the first things he said as he sat at his place was that someone must have laid his watch down and forgotten it. (Dad mistook the napkin ring for a watch.) People laughed and told him what it was. Dad didn’t laugh; he didn’t know one of the couples at the table and was probably embarrassed. I can’t recall that he said another thing throughout the meal. I thought about it later and thought that had it been me, I would have talked with my husband about it later that evening in bed – pillow talk – and shared my embarrassment with him, and he would have told me to forget about it – it didn’t mean anything. The point I’m getting at is that people who are alone, who have lost a spouse and who now walk, perhaps for the first time, uncoupled in the world, have no one with whom to share their secrets. I have thought that often since mom died six years ago, when I thought dad would be about to say something but then didn’t. And now as we come into the most difficult time of year for those who are alone, I think about it again. When you’re alone (and without a BFF!), you have no one with whom to share your secrets – big ones and silly ones, ones bursting for a tell and ones that are plain gossip. There’s just something so wondrous about the companionship of a partner – the intimacy of that relationship – which encourages every manner of sharing. Losing that, if you have ever had it, must be devastating. If you know people who have been recently widowed or divorced, this would probably be a good time of the year to be especially aware of including them. It certainly won’t take away their pain or loneliness, but it may lessen the feeling of emptiness just enough to ease them through the holidays.