Becoming a Reservoir

“The man who is wise, therefore, will see his life as more like a reservoir than a canal. The canal simultaneously pours out what it receives; the reservoir retains the water till it is filled, then discharges the overflow without loss to itself ... Today there are many in the Church who act like canals, the reservoirs are far too rare ... You too must learn to await this fullness before pouring out your gifts, do not try to be more generous than God.”
― Bernard of Clairvaux, On the Song of Songs

The Best Easter

   This has been the best Easter I have had in many years.
   Ironically, I was upset a week ago, thinking that it would be the worst, since I am pregnant and my head is discombobulated, and since we did not feel like we had church community (parish life in Irving is in shambles).
    But, a true testament to the grace of God, it was not only fine and good, it was positively the best one I've had in decades.
    What made it so good was that--somehow--I was able to have enough time to sit in quiet and reflect on where I am, what my struggles and failures are, as well as my hopes and dreams, and then--somehow--the liturgies over the three days leading up to Easter had many points of connection.
    I found myself in the Christ who falls under the weight of the cross.
    I found myself in the Christ who suffers because of obedience.
    I found myself in the Christ who suffers death, but that death to himself generates new life for others.
    And I found hope in the Christ who dies for others, but then who receives new, resurrected life.

    As we participated in Holy Thursday, Stations of the Cross, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil, I experienced a Christ who was reaching out to me, saying, "I know what you are going through.  Me too."  Being in such good company was really validating for me, and made me feel all the closer to Him.  Oh, how I love the three days of the Triduum, culminating in Easter.
    And joy!  We have 50 days of the Easter season!  I have a whole stretch of time to make good on the grace I received!

Weeping

   I found myself weeping at Mass.  The priest, who knows the science of the cross so intimately (not all Catholics or Christians, priests or pastors, do!), was explaining:
     Heaven is not for heroes.  It is not for the successful.  It is not for those who have figured out human strength or flourishing or accomplishment.
     Heaven is for saints.  Saints are people who might be neither heroic, nor successful, nor strong, nor accomplished.  But saints are people who have figured out--by the grace of God--how to be like Jesus as He approached the cross.  They have figured out that what is right and good is to accept one's "being a victim."  Now, this kind of "victim" is not like a secular, merely human victim.  A secular victim is self-pitying, angry, resentful, weak.  But the Christian victim is powerful.  She or he is so powerful that, like the God-Man himself, she/he can take a false accusation, a malicious condemnation, a slap, a beating, a mocking and even death, and maintain love for the offender.  The saint can be misunderstood to a violent degree, and offer the violence as a gift for sinners, for the world.  Being a victim in this Christian sense is to be like God.  And, the priest said, if we do not accept our victimhood, and if we do not see Jesus as a victim, then we do not know who Jesus really is.
     What are our pains?  What are the ways we have been mistreated?  What are the sacrifices that we make for other people?  What are the ways that we are not successful, accomplished, or flourishing?  All of these areas of our life are where the Holy Spirit loves to show up.  These are the areas that should captivate our attention, like the little section of our land that might just have minerals, gold, or diamonds underground.  These are the  areas that we should think: "Now, how can I rethink how I feel about this?"  No matter how long ago these pains or failures happened, it is never too late to say, "Today is the day that I am going to say, 'YES!' to this mistreatment, this splotch in my past, this horrible memory.  Today is the day that I embrace it, as Christ embraced his cross.  And today is the day that I offer it up for the person who hurt me, or the person who succeeded instead of me."
     In that moment, we begin a new way of thinking, a new way of praying, and a new way of being at peace with what ails us.  And in that moment we begin a new level of intimacy with Christ, who is the Author of this Divine Approach, this Genius Way of Life.

It was time. . .

    I was tired from all the dog poo clean up the day before; I was tired from cleaning up Annie's potty accident.  I was tired of cooking, tired of serving, and weary from the manual labor of sweeping, mopping, and straightening up.
      Nevertheless, today called for more mundane work.  It was time to go through lots of messy, cluttered closets and store away winter clothes and pull out spring ones, one size bigger.  The kids have bins of clothes in the attic, and each year it is like shopping for them, to get the next size up that they are used to seeing on their older sibling, or to happily identify what new clothes need to be purchased.
    I sat them all down before we began to have a prayer.  "Lord, we praise you for this small work.  We are about to spend many hours, sorting, folding, laundering, stacking, giving away and throwing away. We are a tiny band of people, and no one will see this humble work.  While the world turns today, and business goes on about us, we will privately be doing this tiny labor that is by most accounts insignificant.  But you, Jesus, are the one who teaches us to embrace our cross, to embrace what looks like senseless failure, like meaningless, forgettable work.  So as we spend this whole day doing our meaningless work, I offer it for all those who will die today around the globe.  There will be people, many people, who breathe their last breath.  Lord, let the work of our hands be preaching to them.  Let them hear the Good News.  Let them be moved by the grace of the Holy Spirit to apologize to those whom they have wronged, to repent of their sins, to trade out pride for humility, to trade out resentment for love.  Lord, preach to their hearts, speak to their inner beings.  Let them, even in a quick moment of silence, have a turning around, a 'con-versio'--a turning toward the other, heaven-ward direction.  Let them find the grace that makes heaven possible.  Take them all to heaven with you, Lord.  Bring them all to heaven today.  May our hands preach with powerful conviction to even the hardest-hearted of them all."
     The kids were so happy about the prayer.  I said, "This is homeschooling.  This is schooling, or education, in the Cross.  This is learning how to have the humility of Jesus."
     Sadly, we were a pitiful, sinful bunch ourselves--not the angelic, sweet-tongued creatures whose feet glided just above the floor from sanctity.  No, there was bickering over whom the slippers belonged to; there were moans and protests that after so many hours, they could not go and play; I felt sorry for myself that my back hurt from carrying so many bins around all day.
      But that is the point: God works through sinners, through broken people, through imperfect people. Who knows what He did with our humble and yet audacious prayer.  Maybe nothing.  Only God has the power to determine.  And maybe our offering was a far cry from what was needed for such a feat.
     But as I struggle through these long days of manual labor, hurting from pregnancy, a pregnancy that is the consequence only of obedience to the church's teachings and Ron's and my poor management of them, feeling like I am dying to myself, losing a part of life that might otherwise be fun, easy, or enjoyable, such a prayer is what keeps me breathing, sustains my hope, and keeps my joy alive.

Franny's Lipstick

   Franny got a hold of a red marker!  Now she's got lipstick and nail polish on!

Pregnant with God

    One of the Early Church Fathers speaks of the Word of God, Scripture, coming into you, and of our responsibility to let that Word become alive in us.  This celibate man says that all true Christians are pregnant with the Word of God.
     As Mary and I prayed in Mass this morning with the Carmelite monks, I was so overtaken by my recollection of this image.  These Fathers have a beautiful lifestyle of quiet and contemplation, making it possible in the silence of their hearts for the Word to take root in them.  And then it occurred to me, in our own way, mothers have a lifestyle that lends itself to such reception as well.
     Mary the Mother of God is such a living representation of this Early Church Father's idea: she was truly pregnant with the Word.
     May we all seek after such pregnancy!

Medieval Camp, 2nd Sunday

Canoe relay races in the pool!  After all, the vikings were sea-faring people. . .

Brewing true, fermented root beer!  After all, the medieval monks were brewing beer in order to make water potable for the poor. . .

Wow!  These kids have a lot of energy!!!