Strength. That thing of mighty men and women. Muscle and endurance; toughness and resiliency; brute force and persistence; never-ending and never-failing.
And yet, without warning, we can lose all of our strength. It can be swept away in a heartbeat with a few words. A diagnosis. A tragedy. A lost opportunity. A lost job. A lost loved one.
In a moment’s notice our strength can be sapped. Our hope can be diminished. Our greatest fears can be realized. Our fight can seem lost. We become demoralized and frightened. We are suddenly as helpless as infants and we struggle to find our way. The “why?” keeps ringing in our ears.
So we pray and we cry and we hold on to one another. And somehow we survive. Perhaps not in the way we had hoped. Maybe not as long as we would like. But we survive. Strength returns. Different strength. Renewed strength. And we are changed. Our misfortune gives us the wisdom to cherish what is good and right in our lives. Our suffering reminds us that our blessings always outweigh our pain. We are lifted by the love and prayers of others and as the Alleluias ring out at Christmas, we know that we are never alone. When we light the pink candle this Sunday on our Advent wreaths we are reminded that in our longing there is also hope. O Come Emmanuel!
I often wonder why Christ came to Earth as a poor child. Why not as an Emperor/King? Or like a superhero? Why not as an Omnipotent God blazing in glory and power and might? And as I often do, I suppose I miss the point. As humans, we have an amazing capability of adapting to our environment and more importantly our circumstances. Jesus came to Earth as much a human as me. A baby who was feeble, week, helpless and frightened. My Savior walked my walk and gave His life for mine. Jesus knew how to be strong. My job is to make my life worthy of His love and sacrifice.
Wishing you strength and peace and love this Advent season,
Denis
Strengthen the hands that are feeble,
make firm the knees that are weak,
Say to those whose hearts are frightened:
Be strong, fear not!
Isaiah 35:3-4
Of course the hardest person to listen to is myself. I’m a man of action. I like to get stuff done. Sitting and contemplating what needs to be done is a challenge for me. Give me a task and I’m on it. Put up the tree; decorate the house; wrap the gifts; hang the lights – easy stuff. I guess thinking about Jesus coming 2,000 years ago is easy enough. And I can slow down long enough to listen to some Christmas hymns and get my head and heart in the right place. But that’s not what Advent is about. It’s not just the anticipation of His coming as an infant in Bethlehem and His final coming at the end of time but it’s also about Jesus coming to me, right now, right here – and that gets a little messy and scary.
While contemplating the gravity of the situation, the 8 year-old daughter began to pray the “Hail Mary”. All Catholic school children learn this prayer and most can recite it from memory. It’s an ancient prayer imploring Jesus’ mother Mary to pray for us and all those in need of God’s mercy, especially those near death. This act of kindness was not prompted by Mom nor was it in any way expected. Mom’s concern at that moment was protecting her daughters from viewing possible carnage. What happened next was the five year-old daughter praying an “Our Father” or the “Lord’s Prayer” for those strangers on the roadside. Again unprompted and unexpected. Those beautiful girls witnessed to their mother in a simple yet profound way.
The Catholic Church in the U.S. celebrates All Souls’ Day on November 2nd but few folks outside of the church really pay much attention to this day. It’s a day to remember those who have died and who are not (yet?) saints . I guess is where your grandmother fits in. However in Mexico, Dia de los Muertos is a major feast day and a national holiday as well. The dead are honored with special meals, including their favorite foods and drink. Whole families gather in the celebration and the mood is light, with the emphasis on remembering and honoring the lives of the deceased.
But grace comes when we least expect it (and perhaps when we most need it). My daughter and her family had joined us for mass yesterday, and just as I was feeling the most anger and disillusionment, my granddaughter Anna wrapped her arm around mine and leaned her sweet head on my chest. A simple loving gesture. Maybe she just wanted to let me know that I was loved. Maybe she just needed to feel loved. Whatever the reason, that moment was sublime. I felt my anger and frustration dissipate as her love flowed over me. I came to mass yesterday to read scripture and to hear the Gospel. Turns out it was spoken to me without any words.
He recently left for a one-year, unaccompanied, remote assignment. Which means that he’s far away from home and his wife and daughters are left behind. Of course, there are worse jobs and there are tougher and more dangerous assignments but this is our son and it’s personal. And I’m feeling a little melancholy.
Last week our newest granddaughter Gwendolyn Elizabeth was baptized. Our good friend Deacon Gary baptized her; as he has baptized our four other grandchildren. It was beautiful celebration of God’s love for us. I was reminded (once again) that Baptism isn’t just for the baby being Christened but for the entire family gathered to experience the sacrament. We all renewed our faith and promised to help Gwen in her spiritual journey. As Gary so eloquently pointed out, Gwen really had no idea what was happening to her but our love and support would give her a foundation on which to build a life-long relationship with God. So with parents and siblings and Godparents and grandparents and great-grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins and friends, Gwen was welcomed into a new life in Christ. And we were all blessed.
Baptism doesn’t end with the sacrament. This will be the beginning of Gwen’s life as a disciple of Christ. She was presented for Baptism but her parents and Godparents will bear the responsibility for her formation. We will all support their efforts in raising her as a Christian but ultimately she will have to choose to accept her faith as an adult.
Right now we need more love in this world. Sadly the tragedy in Orlando has created a swirl of political debate about gun control, terrorism, radical Islamism, LGBT rights, and police response. Whereas I firmly believe in a ban on all assault weapons and I abhor terrorism and violence of all kinds, I believe we may be missing the point. The fact remains that 49 people were massacred and an additional 53 people were injured, some critically. How does so much hate; so much rage fill someone’s heart? And as a society are we partially to blame? Have we developed such a cavalier attitude in our nation toward gun violence that we can just accept the fact that these people were an unfortunate casualty? Surely not.
Journeying & Journaling 