*** This blog was written in the hospital waiting room while my grandfather underwent hip surgery. Please hold him, my grandmother and his recovery in your prayers.
Mom: Congratulations!
CD (me): thank you
Mom: So how does it feel to have your whole life open up in front of you?
CD: umm... yikes! and quite exciting at the same time. i loved college and just am ready and anticipating the next step.
Mom: Oh, really! and how do you feel about that?
CD: thanks for the Freaky Friday reference, shrink-y mom, like I said: I'm excited and nervous.
Mom: Tell us about your new room mates
CD: Wel.. to catch up any one who doesn't know, this past semester I lived in a university townhouse in a community called Magis Row -- this was like a living and learning community only on a block as opposed to in a dorm. My house was Catholic Social Teaching, so we hosted several events about various aspects of CST. Sadly, since it was univeristy housing, now that i am an alumn (gulp) I can't live there any more. So I found a house about 5 blocks behind campus that i'm really looking forward to. Two of my house mates are Georgetown alums from the past several years. They seem very nice and welcoming.
Mom: and your cat... ?
CD: oh, yes, right, my cat, Pixie, gets to live with me again!
Mom: I will miss Pixie, she's the grumpiest sweetest cat I've ever known.
CD: well that sounds about right. You can come and visit.
Mom: Yes I'll come and visit your cat.
CD: hehehe
Mom: I'll bring my dog to beat her up so she feels at home again.
CD: uh-oh. Ok, now my turn to ask you a question: how does it feel to have a graduated daughter?
Mom: Exciting and scary.
CD: wow, those words sounds familiar. Our family seems to have a very limited vocabulary. Anything you'd like to add to that??
Mom: Yeah, let's go skiing. We gotta hit the slopes after we hit New York.
CD: and ladies and gentlemen, the nonsequetor of the evening!
Mom: hehe, yeah. haha. Ok, so the graduation trip is the fist celebration for the new graduate... so after your trips, what's next? what's your plan?
CD: well in the spring I'm hoping to be working with the nonprofit (Little Friends for Peace) that I've been volunteering with for the past year. I'd be working in the development office, doing fund raising and grant writing as well as working with the kids in the after school program. I'll also be taking a class online: Teaching English as a Foreign Language. I'm really looking forward to it -- learning some teaching tips (I figure as right now I really want to go into education, I should really take an education class). Then a job at a coffee shop, and finally working on my own grant writing and fund raising in order to return and teach in El Salvador next fall.
Mom: Yes. Good bye
CD; ahhh! what?
Mom: El Salvador is so far away... and it is right where you belong. If we work this right you can be in El Salvador in the fall and your sister can be in Africa. And I will have a house full of animals!
CD: You might just have to travel and come visit us. No dogs though.
Mom: I'll come.
We will now pause for a brief word from our sponsors:
Our sponsor of the morning is the local shelter. We encourage you to give your time, talent or donations to help the creatures who cannot help themselves. Your local shelter is full of cats, kittens, dogs, puppies, ferrets, rabbits, rodents, and many other creatures who need your help. Someone said you can judge a society by how it treats its animals.
*** My grandfather has just come out of surgery, everything went well. Thank you for your prayers!***
26 December 2009
13 December 2009
Harvesting Crumbs
So this is a post I've been meaning to write for a while.... and what better time to write it than when I ought to be writing my thesis?
(important note by the way: I just hit 40 pages yesterday -- which is the minimum! I still have 4 sections I'd like to write plus a conclusion, which will probably end up to be 18-ish pages I think, which is totally do-able! but please continue sending good thesis thoughts and prayers my way!)
Anyway...one of the things I've been thinking about lately is: why am I keeping this blog? When I was in El Salvador last spring it was obvious: it was a way for me to document, process, reflect upon and share with all of you my experiences, challenges, and celebrations.
I am not in El Salvador any more. Obvious, right?
Something happened last week that reminded me though.
So, last Thursday, I went in to the Peace Room (part of a community center after-school program). I was the only volunteer there that day. Jerry and MJ the co-directors were receiving an award for their peace work and all of the other volunteers either had finals or had gone home for the holidays already. So, it was me and three rambunctious crazy 5 year olds. Our mission: to decorate the peace room for Christmas.
So they came in, we sat in a circle on the floor (which really meant one of them plopped herself on my lap, and the other ran around the room) while we did our check-ins (what has made your peace? what has broken your peace?) then we said our peace pledge and sang a couple of their songs. At which point I gave them their mission. NO was the resounding answer. We spent the next 15 minutes or so with one (or both of them) falling down, and saying "OH NO I broke my neck!) To which of course, I would call 911 (on my hand...you, know....pretend :) and be instructed that the ONLY cure for a broken neck is to be tickled! Then my two 5 yr olds (the third hadn't arrived yet) started taking turns calling 911 and be the 911 operator.
Then, that game worn out... I gave them a choice: we cold read a book or work on decorations. We chose decorations (side note: i think I learned this in psychology, about giving a children 2 options and then they get to decide what to do, but usually youngs kids do tend to choose and option).
Coloring, cutting, and couple of other pretend games later... and it was time to clean up.
Of course here, in print, on a computer screen, I can't capture their smiles, or their screams (at one point we made a bath room field trip and one of them ran ahead of me into the bathroom and when I got in, she was standing in the middle with a HUGE grin on her face, screaming as loud as she could). But maybe a glimmer has been captured.
Curing broken necks, pretending us safe from pretend robbers, coloring with these five year olds made me think: Life. Be. Those crumbs are every where. Writing here, some how sharing the crumbs that bring me life and joy and awareness and reflection, that sharing helps me to be more aware of them. To keep my eyes and my heart open. So thank you. Thank you for joining me in my little feast of crumbs.
(important note by the way: I just hit 40 pages yesterday -- which is the minimum! I still have 4 sections I'd like to write plus a conclusion, which will probably end up to be 18-ish pages I think, which is totally do-able! but please continue sending good thesis thoughts and prayers my way!)
Anyway...one of the things I've been thinking about lately is: why am I keeping this blog? When I was in El Salvador last spring it was obvious: it was a way for me to document, process, reflect upon and share with all of you my experiences, challenges, and celebrations.
I am not in El Salvador any more. Obvious, right?
Something happened last week that reminded me though.
So, last Thursday, I went in to the Peace Room (part of a community center after-school program). I was the only volunteer there that day. Jerry and MJ the co-directors were receiving an award for their peace work and all of the other volunteers either had finals or had gone home for the holidays already. So, it was me and three rambunctious crazy 5 year olds. Our mission: to decorate the peace room for Christmas.
So they came in, we sat in a circle on the floor (which really meant one of them plopped herself on my lap, and the other ran around the room) while we did our check-ins (what has made your peace? what has broken your peace?) then we said our peace pledge and sang a couple of their songs. At which point I gave them their mission. NO was the resounding answer. We spent the next 15 minutes or so with one (or both of them) falling down, and saying "OH NO I broke my neck!) To which of course, I would call 911 (on my hand...you, know....pretend :) and be instructed that the ONLY cure for a broken neck is to be tickled! Then my two 5 yr olds (the third hadn't arrived yet) started taking turns calling 911 and be the 911 operator.
Then, that game worn out... I gave them a choice: we cold read a book or work on decorations. We chose decorations (side note: i think I learned this in psychology, about giving a children 2 options and then they get to decide what to do, but usually youngs kids do tend to choose and option).
Coloring, cutting, and couple of other pretend games later... and it was time to clean up.
Of course here, in print, on a computer screen, I can't capture their smiles, or their screams (at one point we made a bath room field trip and one of them ran ahead of me into the bathroom and when I got in, she was standing in the middle with a HUGE grin on her face, screaming as loud as she could). But maybe a glimmer has been captured.
Curing broken necks, pretending us safe from pretend robbers, coloring with these five year olds made me think: Life. Be. Those crumbs are every where. Writing here, some how sharing the crumbs that bring me life and joy and awareness and reflection, that sharing helps me to be more aware of them. To keep my eyes and my heart open. So thank you. Thank you for joining me in my little feast of crumbs.
09 December 2009
Shalom: Peace, Hello, Good bye
The things I learn in my physiological psychology class.... probably the things that I pick up on and then reflect on are definitely not the main core principals I'm supposed to learning, memorizing, and appreciating...but at least I'm learning something!
As an example of symbolic thought, ie words. Words are symbols of objects (ideas too but that's something even more complciated...), and the word itself is not confused with the object.
But a word that is unknown is not a symbol, but rather just a series of squiggly lines.
So our professor taught us the word shalom (written in hebrew) as an example to be able to appreciate the symbolism.
'Aight intro finished, now for the real thing.
The cool thing is that shalom means Peace, Hello, and Good bye.
Why is this interesting? Well, I think that language is in many ways the window through which we see and interact with the world. So, it seems profound to me to have one word for all three.
It could be that shalom doesn't mean all three, but shalom means Peace and so Peace can then be used as a greeting or a farewell.
"Hello, I wish you peace"
"Good bye, go in peace"
Language is some important, and by constantly wishing peace keeps in consistently in consciousness, consistently a part of moment to moment life.
I'm learning in peace education the importance of examples and models of peace -- so much in the world is violent and so it is that which is most easily conformed to. So this consistent greeting and farewell of peace is a way to bring a model of peace into life.
"Peace I leave with you my friends, my friends, and I am with you till the end."
...i feel like there is more i want to say about this but it's sitting just out of reach, i can almost see it but can't quite grasp it, so perhaps more later.
As an example of symbolic thought, ie words. Words are symbols of objects (ideas too but that's something even more complciated...), and the word itself is not confused with the object.
But a word that is unknown is not a symbol, but rather just a series of squiggly lines.
So our professor taught us the word shalom (written in hebrew) as an example to be able to appreciate the symbolism.
'Aight intro finished, now for the real thing.
The cool thing is that shalom means Peace, Hello, and Good bye.
Why is this interesting? Well, I think that language is in many ways the window through which we see and interact with the world. So, it seems profound to me to have one word for all three.
It could be that shalom doesn't mean all three, but shalom means Peace and so Peace can then be used as a greeting or a farewell.
"Hello, I wish you peace"
"Good bye, go in peace"
Language is some important, and by constantly wishing peace keeps in consistently in consciousness, consistently a part of moment to moment life.
I'm learning in peace education the importance of examples and models of peace -- so much in the world is violent and so it is that which is most easily conformed to. So this consistent greeting and farewell of peace is a way to bring a model of peace into life.
"Peace I leave with you my friends, my friends, and I am with you till the end."
...i feel like there is more i want to say about this but it's sitting just out of reach, i can almost see it but can't quite grasp it, so perhaps more later.
06 December 2009
advent: because 1 post just wasn't enough....
Advent, like lent, is a season of preparation for the coming of Christ. This video is very thought provoking and challenging. (I found it through my friend olivia's gmail status and thought it was so good i wanted to share it with you.)
Para La Paz
1> SOLIDARITY
remember my working definition? well, i'm about to add to it :)
I went to the Ignatian Family Teach-In for Justice in Fort Benning Georgia the weekend before Thanksgiving, and one of the speakers talked about solidarity. it is compleltey escaping who said this at the moment, but anyway they identified "solidarity" as a buzz word, thrown around all the time but not necessarily defined. So in the talk, they defined it, saying:
solidarity is about conversion. It is about letting your life be touched by someone else, and allowing that contact, that human connection, to change you past just that moment. It is a daily (or even moment by moment) decision, commitment, investment.
2> PEACE
I was sharing at guided examen last week my experience with the word PEACE. It is a powerful word, one that has been very present with my lately. Johan Galtung has this amazing approach to understanding peace through identifying two type of peace. The first, I think is how the term is typically used: referring to an absence of direct or physical violence. he calls this "negative peace" because it is defined by what it is not rather than through an affirmative statement.
This negative peace is important, yet if this is the extent of our understanding of peace, if this is the goal, then we're taking the easy way out, we're missing something hugely important.
In addition to this "negative peace," Galtung also talks about this idea of "positive peace." Positive peace is the affirmative peace, peace that speaks to what it is, rather than just (the essential) statement of what it is not. As they say in Rent, "the opposite of war isn't peace, its CREATION." Positive peace are these acts of creation which works to address oppressive social structures (aka "structural violence" and recognize the common humanity and human dignity of all while working for a world where that basic human dignity is upheld.
Both are important. Negative peace, the stopping of bombs being dropped on a national level, the ability to be in another's presence without lashing out at them on an individual level, these are important things. However, particularly on an individual level, there comes a time when commitment to negative peace is unhealthy. If I am hurt or upset by something or someone and keep my mouth closed, in order to preserve the appearance of peace, I am actually committing an act of violence towards myself and whoever else is involved. My keeping my mouth shut when I need to speak up, when the boat needs to be rocked, I am denying my humanity and my own self worth, as well as disrepecting any other parties involved. By keeping my mouth shut, I am in a sense taking total responsibility for whatever it was that went wrong, I am not acknowledging the agency of the other, nor am I allowing them to care for (or about) me and the fact that I am hurt. It is violent and ultimately destructive to sacrifice for something defined by what it is not.
As was said, negative peace is the first step. Peace is a risky business and so a trust in at the very least one's physical safety is an important starting point. saying words that need to be said, risking those tough words or actions, calling things as they are, living and thinking and speaking in a way which recognizes and promotes the human dignity of all (including myself!) is scary and hard. Ella curia said the most amazing thing that I think is so true, speaking of the University of Central America (UCA) during the civil war: "If our university had not suffered we would not have performed our duty. In a world where injustice reigns, a university that fights for justice must necessarily be persecuted.” This, I think, is just as applicable to the individual as to the university.
So, solidarity, then, this act of conversion, this knowledge that we are all in this together, is essential for peace. Solidarity is based upon the understanding of the universality of humanity and our interconnectedness, which I think is fundamental for peace. Just as important, is that to live this active positive peace, to bring about these acts of creation, well, it is impossible (and discouraging and disheartening) to do it alone, alone it cannot be done.
So this risk of peace happens through and with and in solidarity, in hope of humanity, in faith in God. Yet this risk can't be taken just for the sake of taking risks. I think I mentioned before getting a tattoo and that can be a powerful symbol, but the only if in context. We are, each and every one of us, created by God (on purpose) in God's image--I think it is this that binds each person, throughout time and space, together. As we take the risk for peace in solidarity, it is important to ask: what am I risking? to be able to name it, to place it in context. And to follow that question with: and what am I risking it for? Peace cannot happen by accident.
remember my working definition? well, i'm about to add to it :)
I went to the Ignatian Family Teach-In for Justice in Fort Benning Georgia the weekend before Thanksgiving, and one of the speakers talked about solidarity. it is compleltey escaping who said this at the moment, but anyway they identified "solidarity" as a buzz word, thrown around all the time but not necessarily defined. So in the talk, they defined it, saying:
solidarity is about conversion. It is about letting your life be touched by someone else, and allowing that contact, that human connection, to change you past just that moment. It is a daily (or even moment by moment) decision, commitment, investment.
2> PEACE
I was sharing at guided examen last week my experience with the word PEACE. It is a powerful word, one that has been very present with my lately. Johan Galtung has this amazing approach to understanding peace through identifying two type of peace. The first, I think is how the term is typically used: referring to an absence of direct or physical violence. he calls this "negative peace" because it is defined by what it is not rather than through an affirmative statement.
This negative peace is important, yet if this is the extent of our understanding of peace, if this is the goal, then we're taking the easy way out, we're missing something hugely important.
In addition to this "negative peace," Galtung also talks about this idea of "positive peace." Positive peace is the affirmative peace, peace that speaks to what it is, rather than just (the essential) statement of what it is not. As they say in Rent, "the opposite of war isn't peace, its CREATION." Positive peace are these acts of creation which works to address oppressive social structures (aka "structural violence" and recognize the common humanity and human dignity of all while working for a world where that basic human dignity is upheld.
Both are important. Negative peace, the stopping of bombs being dropped on a national level, the ability to be in another's presence without lashing out at them on an individual level, these are important things. However, particularly on an individual level, there comes a time when commitment to negative peace is unhealthy. If I am hurt or upset by something or someone and keep my mouth closed, in order to preserve the appearance of peace, I am actually committing an act of violence towards myself and whoever else is involved. My keeping my mouth shut when I need to speak up, when the boat needs to be rocked, I am denying my humanity and my own self worth, as well as disrepecting any other parties involved. By keeping my mouth shut, I am in a sense taking total responsibility for whatever it was that went wrong, I am not acknowledging the agency of the other, nor am I allowing them to care for (or about) me and the fact that I am hurt. It is violent and ultimately destructive to sacrifice for something defined by what it is not.
As was said, negative peace is the first step. Peace is a risky business and so a trust in at the very least one's physical safety is an important starting point. saying words that need to be said, risking those tough words or actions, calling things as they are, living and thinking and speaking in a way which recognizes and promotes the human dignity of all (including myself!) is scary and hard. Ella curia said the most amazing thing that I think is so true, speaking of the University of Central America (UCA) during the civil war: "If our university had not suffered we would not have performed our duty. In a world where injustice reigns, a university that fights for justice must necessarily be persecuted.” This, I think, is just as applicable to the individual as to the university.
So, solidarity, then, this act of conversion, this knowledge that we are all in this together, is essential for peace. Solidarity is based upon the understanding of the universality of humanity and our interconnectedness, which I think is fundamental for peace. Just as important, is that to live this active positive peace, to bring about these acts of creation, well, it is impossible (and discouraging and disheartening) to do it alone, alone it cannot be done.
So this risk of peace happens through and with and in solidarity, in hope of humanity, in faith in God. Yet this risk can't be taken just for the sake of taking risks. I think I mentioned before getting a tattoo and that can be a powerful symbol, but the only if in context. We are, each and every one of us, created by God (on purpose) in God's image--I think it is this that binds each person, throughout time and space, together. As we take the risk for peace in solidarity, it is important to ask: what am I risking? to be able to name it, to place it in context. And to follow that question with: and what am I risking it for? Peace cannot happen by accident.
04 November 2009
"what's in a name? a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."
in my phsyiological psychology class today we were talking about selective attention -- which implies intentionality and volition in the selecting of what i (or anyone else) is paying attention to. this is really besides the point and more along the mind/brain question we come up against every class.
at any rate, in the studying of selective attention, some fascinating experiments have been done. One by Colin Cherry. In this study, subjects were given headphones, with a different voice saying different things into each ear. the subject was asked to shadow one of the voices (shadowing is repeating what someone is saying while the continue talking). Then the did different things, like adding a beep into one ear phone or the other, or changed what was going on in the ear phone that wasn't being shadowed, such as changing the language multiple times, or changing the gender of the person speaking... things like that. Afterwards, subjects were asked about what they heard from the ear phone they hadn't been shadowing. Only two things came up: if the gender changed or if they heard their name. If it was in the ear they weren't listening to, they didn't hear the added in beeps, they didn't notice the language change, had no idea of content -- but they did hear their names (brain activity was monitored as well, and there were not event potentials related to what went on in the nonselected ear).
and in class we mentioned the cocktail experiment which i think the gist is if you're at a cocktail party, all the noise and chattering and craziness, but if your name is said, you hear it.
As my friend Earl would tell you, I am obsessed with naming things. In my last blog, I named the things that I am mourning. I name the things that make me happy, that make me afraid or upset or stressed. some how by being able to name them, they stop being overwhelming. it's not to say that by naming the fact that graduating in a mere few months both terrifies and excites me that I no longer feel terrified or excited but rather that the terror loses its all consuming hold. i can name it and so live with it. and with the excitement ... well there is a proper time and place for that as well.
naming. i was gchatting with one of the women i studied with in El Salvador and she used my name in the conversation. and i felt so known. i don't use people's names when i am talking with them, most of the time its obvious to whom i am speaking so i don't say it. but to be called by name, to be named and so known and so loved. almost a calling, to be named, to be called to myself, into myself. Yes. this is me, this is who i am -- and you, you who are calling me are therefor part of that, part of the essence of me. and not in a way that is consuming and identity losing to the other person, but rather in the way that together we are more who were, together we be.
as Sister P said "I am called to be more me, more P" and that call never happens in a vacuum, never happens in isolation.
As I think of being called into myself, my name, this common journey we are all on together, I think of this image from El Salvador, this image of these knots inside of me, all the crazy funny happy tearful mess, this mess of knots, but among the knots, the hands of those who love me, helping me carry it, helping me untangle it, there with me amidst all of my messiness. and there is a naming in that as well.
they called me "Cris" in El Salvador. "Cris, Cris!" -- and it felt like a naming me as their own.
and i have a nick name that is used for the first time in my life -- i'm not good at nicknames, coming up with them for myself or others, but there's something special about it, a naming of a person, a naming of a relationship. something powerful, something real. something to hold on to.
something sacred.
at any rate, in the studying of selective attention, some fascinating experiments have been done. One by Colin Cherry. In this study, subjects were given headphones, with a different voice saying different things into each ear. the subject was asked to shadow one of the voices (shadowing is repeating what someone is saying while the continue talking). Then the did different things, like adding a beep into one ear phone or the other, or changed what was going on in the ear phone that wasn't being shadowed, such as changing the language multiple times, or changing the gender of the person speaking... things like that. Afterwards, subjects were asked about what they heard from the ear phone they hadn't been shadowing. Only two things came up: if the gender changed or if they heard their name. If it was in the ear they weren't listening to, they didn't hear the added in beeps, they didn't notice the language change, had no idea of content -- but they did hear their names (brain activity was monitored as well, and there were not event potentials related to what went on in the nonselected ear).
and in class we mentioned the cocktail experiment which i think the gist is if you're at a cocktail party, all the noise and chattering and craziness, but if your name is said, you hear it.
As my friend Earl would tell you, I am obsessed with naming things. In my last blog, I named the things that I am mourning. I name the things that make me happy, that make me afraid or upset or stressed. some how by being able to name them, they stop being overwhelming. it's not to say that by naming the fact that graduating in a mere few months both terrifies and excites me that I no longer feel terrified or excited but rather that the terror loses its all consuming hold. i can name it and so live with it. and with the excitement ... well there is a proper time and place for that as well.
naming. i was gchatting with one of the women i studied with in El Salvador and she used my name in the conversation. and i felt so known. i don't use people's names when i am talking with them, most of the time its obvious to whom i am speaking so i don't say it. but to be called by name, to be named and so known and so loved. almost a calling, to be named, to be called to myself, into myself. Yes. this is me, this is who i am -- and you, you who are calling me are therefor part of that, part of the essence of me. and not in a way that is consuming and identity losing to the other person, but rather in the way that together we are more who were, together we be.
as Sister P said "I am called to be more me, more P" and that call never happens in a vacuum, never happens in isolation.
As I think of being called into myself, my name, this common journey we are all on together, I think of this image from El Salvador, this image of these knots inside of me, all the crazy funny happy tearful mess, this mess of knots, but among the knots, the hands of those who love me, helping me carry it, helping me untangle it, there with me amidst all of my messiness. and there is a naming in that as well.
they called me "Cris" in El Salvador. "Cris, Cris!" -- and it felt like a naming me as their own.
and i have a nick name that is used for the first time in my life -- i'm not good at nicknames, coming up with them for myself or others, but there's something special about it, a naming of a person, a naming of a relationship. something powerful, something real. something to hold on to.
something sacred.
01 November 2009
why do they weep?
Today's gospel was the sermon on the mount, the one where Jesus, seeing the crowd, sits them down and teaches them -- the beatitudes.
the homily tonight, in the mezcla of the reading and the fact that it is All Saints, said that what we have in the Beatitudes is what it means to be a saint.
To be poor in spirit: to know that God is God and we are not
To mourn ...
and this is where I went on my own train of track, so here's the homily that developed in my head and heart.
To be a saint is to mourn. to feel deep enough that I hurt, that I feel pain and sadness, to risk getting involved, loving, that much. To mourn after something means that that thing (or person) mattered to me. It means to not live detatched, but rather wholly (holy) engaged.
This week has been a week of mourning for me. Many many things are changing (have been in the constant state of changing). Many many things make me sad. This week (maybe the past two weeks) there has been a shift: I have let myself (not totally, not completly, but begin to...) mourn them, to let these things touch my heart rather than holding them arm's length out barely out of sight. I have engaged them.
These sad things range from missing El Salvador to starting to say good bye to university (I've been looking for off campus housing), from naming the way friendships have and are changing to ways I am and have been changing, from endings to beginnings to endings in relationships. Taking risks and making mistakes that are hurtful.
Mourning all kinds of things. And in mourning them, letting them be real and in a way letting myself be real too, letting myself be here.
and reality isn't all pain, it isn't all sadness, all mourning, but without suffering and mourning after suffering, then it isn't reality but just kitsch. And so as I've mourned this week, joy and hope have been much closer as well.
Sigo adelante!
Gospel
Mt 5:1-12a
When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain,
and after he had sat down, his disciples came to him.
He began to teach them, saying:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the land.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the clean of heart,
for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,
for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you
and utter every kind of evil against you falsely because of me.
Rejoice and be glad,
for your reward will be great in heaven.”
the homily tonight, in the mezcla of the reading and the fact that it is All Saints, said that what we have in the Beatitudes is what it means to be a saint.
To be poor in spirit: to know that God is God and we are not
To mourn ...
and this is where I went on my own train of track, so here's the homily that developed in my head and heart.
To be a saint is to mourn. to feel deep enough that I hurt, that I feel pain and sadness, to risk getting involved, loving, that much. To mourn after something means that that thing (or person) mattered to me. It means to not live detatched, but rather wholly (holy) engaged.
This week has been a week of mourning for me. Many many things are changing (have been in the constant state of changing). Many many things make me sad. This week (maybe the past two weeks) there has been a shift: I have let myself (not totally, not completly, but begin to...) mourn them, to let these things touch my heart rather than holding them arm's length out barely out of sight. I have engaged them.
These sad things range from missing El Salvador to starting to say good bye to university (I've been looking for off campus housing), from naming the way friendships have and are changing to ways I am and have been changing, from endings to beginnings to endings in relationships. Taking risks and making mistakes that are hurtful.
Mourning all kinds of things. And in mourning them, letting them be real and in a way letting myself be real too, letting myself be here.
and reality isn't all pain, it isn't all sadness, all mourning, but without suffering and mourning after suffering, then it isn't reality but just kitsch. And so as I've mourned this week, joy and hope have been much closer as well.
Sigo adelante!
Gospel
Mt 5:1-12a
When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain,
and after he had sat down, his disciples came to him.
He began to teach them, saying:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the land.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the clean of heart,
for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,
for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you
and utter every kind of evil against you falsely because of me.
Rejoice and be glad,
for your reward will be great in heaven.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)