Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
Carmelite Sunday
On the surface, my Carmelite meetings seem perfectly normal and perfectly familiar. There are uncomfortable folding chairs on plain plastic tables in a dingy church basement. There is a treasurer report, and a talk by the snack coordinator. Our Carmelite books have the homely covers from a cheap printing press.
Everything is familiar from a life time of attending United Methodist Church events.
I'm calm and easy, relaxed and comfortable.
Then someone will start talking and the roof of the building flies off and my soul is in flight.
Seriously. I spent the better part of my first, and prior to this Sunday, only Carmelite meeting gripping the back of the plain plastic table to keep myself grounded in time and space.
Fellow Carmelites will use the most mundane language to easily express these thoughts that are so deep and so true.
For example, my group leader Lou said "The world is always going to underestimate the power of contemplative prayer. Someone will thank you for your time spent in the prison ministry, but no one is going to thank you for that hour you spent in active prayer. Yet we can't make that mistake. We can't underestimate the time spent alone with God, allowing Him to form us. In fact, it's only after we have that regular quiet prayer time that we'll ever be any use in the prison ministry or any active service for the church."
Lou said this with the calmness and certainty that I'd say "The Washington Post says its going to snow tomorrow."
As he talked I had this clear picture of the section of the church bulletin where the thank yous for help with the Food Pantry are listed. I realized in this deep interior place that no one is ever going to print up a bulletin heading that reads "A special thank you to Mrs. Abigail Benjamin for spending a half an hour with the Lord in her closet during the kids naps." If I waited around for public approval, or for an "easy" time to start my prayer life, it was never going to happen.
That doesn't matter.
I know what quiet prayers does for my soul. God loves to give me gifts during quiet meditation.
So that is the Carmelites, glowing, happy interactions with some of the neatest people you'll ever meet.
Everything is familiar from a life time of attending United Methodist Church events.
I'm calm and easy, relaxed and comfortable.
Then someone will start talking and the roof of the building flies off and my soul is in flight.
Seriously. I spent the better part of my first, and prior to this Sunday, only Carmelite meeting gripping the back of the plain plastic table to keep myself grounded in time and space.
Fellow Carmelites will use the most mundane language to easily express these thoughts that are so deep and so true.
For example, my group leader Lou said "The world is always going to underestimate the power of contemplative prayer. Someone will thank you for your time spent in the prison ministry, but no one is going to thank you for that hour you spent in active prayer. Yet we can't make that mistake. We can't underestimate the time spent alone with God, allowing Him to form us. In fact, it's only after we have that regular quiet prayer time that we'll ever be any use in the prison ministry or any active service for the church."
Lou said this with the calmness and certainty that I'd say "The Washington Post says its going to snow tomorrow."
As he talked I had this clear picture of the section of the church bulletin where the thank yous for help with the Food Pantry are listed. I realized in this deep interior place that no one is ever going to print up a bulletin heading that reads "A special thank you to Mrs. Abigail Benjamin for spending a half an hour with the Lord in her closet during the kids naps." If I waited around for public approval, or for an "easy" time to start my prayer life, it was never going to happen.
That doesn't matter.
I know what quiet prayers does for my soul. God loves to give me gifts during quiet meditation.
So that is the Carmelites, glowing, happy interactions with some of the neatest people you'll ever meet.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Life as the Most Important Principle
On Dateline NBC on Friday, Ann Curry held Protestant Pastor Rick Warren's feet to the fire for his close friendship with President Elect Obama & his decision to say the Prayer during Obama's Inauguration. I'd enjoyed Warren's spirited defense of the theology of marriage a few minutes earlier in the broadcast. It came as a shock to hear this exchange.
Ms. Curry: "How can you be friends with Obama if he's pro-choice and your pro-life? Isn't that murder in your view?"
Pastor Warren: "You'll never get a representative to represent you 100% on all of your issues. Heck, I can't get my wife to agree with me all the time!"
You know, I get the whole 'spiritual blindness' thing for the pro-choice side, because I lived it for so long. It's "the I'm pro-life, but its not really the most important issue for me" that has me head scratching right now.
I thought about Ann Curry, who I used to really adore in my prior TV without restrictions days of youth, and Pastor Rick Warren as my 18 month old snuggled into bed with me.
Mimi is a post-colic baby, which means she still doesn't sleep reliably through the night, especially if there's another warm body in her bedroom who could be persuaded to play with her. As a result, our sleeping arrangements in our 2 bedroom apartment are a bit unique. My 5 & 4 year old share a room. Mimi sleeps in a crib in our room. Meanwhile every night, my husband pulls out our IKEA mattress from the beautiful IKEA woven sleigh bed and places it on the living room floor.
When Mimi gets up in the morning, she's not just next to me and my sleeping spouse. Instead, she easily steps on the bed and perches on my head.
So this morning as I mentally wrestled with religious witness questions while physically wrestling with my wide-awake toddler, I realized they are both interrelated.
Here's my current favorite pro-life picture. This a photo of my husband holding my youngest daughter by the grave site of her brother.
Francisco died in my second trimester of pregnancy six weeks before Mimi was conceived. After his death, there was an anguished week of waiting for a miscarriage so that we could have a Catholic burial. There was about a half-hour during that week that I really raved about not being Protestant anymore. I wanted to use birth control again. I hurt so much, I couldn't imagine ever having another child. I wanted to be certain that I'd never have to go through another miscarriage again.
I knew in my heart going back on the pill wasn't an option. The was only NFP or total absence. (Fortunately, the Catholic church has some absolute rules in this situation. Birth control is a mortal sin, and is completely off the table.) Knowing our track record, I figured it was pretty unlikely we could get through 15 years of NEVER conceiving another child.
The question in my mind changed from "IF I ever have another child? To WHEN will I be ready to open my heart to the possibility of another child."
God can work with a frightened, unwilling heart. That what this picture means to me.
Immediately after the funeral, Jon and I truly thought we couldn't be ready to have another child for at least 10 years, if even then.
Instead, six weeks later we brought another soul into the world.
Now out of heartache, there is blessing. I have a son in heaven who is as real to me as my son on earth. (I talk to him all the time in my heart). And Francisco's early death left room for an "extra" red headed daughter. The silly one who tells jokes in baby talk, and who puts on her Dad's dress shoes for a laugh and who sits on my head at 6:30 AM when I'd rather hit another round on the snooze alarm.
Christmas is about welcoming the most important baby in the world.
This Sunday we also remember the Blessed Mother who said YES in the most emphatic way possible. We need to say YES to God in all different ways in all parts of our life. Yet we married couples also need to say YES to Life in a special way.
Our Blessed Mother pray for us. Help us all be "handmaidens of the Lord" in our hearts.
Ms. Curry: "How can you be friends with Obama if he's pro-choice and your pro-life? Isn't that murder in your view?"
Pastor Warren: "You'll never get a representative to represent you 100% on all of your issues. Heck, I can't get my wife to agree with me all the time!"
You know, I get the whole 'spiritual blindness' thing for the pro-choice side, because I lived it for so long. It's "the I'm pro-life, but its not really the most important issue for me" that has me head scratching right now.
I thought about Ann Curry, who I used to really adore in my prior TV without restrictions days of youth, and Pastor Rick Warren as my 18 month old snuggled into bed with me.
Mimi is a post-colic baby, which means she still doesn't sleep reliably through the night, especially if there's another warm body in her bedroom who could be persuaded to play with her. As a result, our sleeping arrangements in our 2 bedroom apartment are a bit unique. My 5 & 4 year old share a room. Mimi sleeps in a crib in our room. Meanwhile every night, my husband pulls out our IKEA mattress from the beautiful IKEA woven sleigh bed and places it on the living room floor.
When Mimi gets up in the morning, she's not just next to me and my sleeping spouse. Instead, she easily steps on the bed and perches on my head.
So this morning as I mentally wrestled with religious witness questions while physically wrestling with my wide-awake toddler, I realized they are both interrelated.
Here's my current favorite pro-life picture. This a photo of my husband holding my youngest daughter by the grave site of her brother.
Francisco died in my second trimester of pregnancy six weeks before Mimi was conceived. After his death, there was an anguished week of waiting for a miscarriage so that we could have a Catholic burial. There was about a half-hour during that week that I really raved about not being Protestant anymore. I wanted to use birth control again. I hurt so much, I couldn't imagine ever having another child. I wanted to be certain that I'd never have to go through another miscarriage again.
I knew in my heart going back on the pill wasn't an option. The was only NFP or total absence. (Fortunately, the Catholic church has some absolute rules in this situation. Birth control is a mortal sin, and is completely off the table.) Knowing our track record, I figured it was pretty unlikely we could get through 15 years of NEVER conceiving another child.
The question in my mind changed from "IF I ever have another child? To WHEN will I be ready to open my heart to the possibility of another child."
God can work with a frightened, unwilling heart. That what this picture means to me.
Immediately after the funeral, Jon and I truly thought we couldn't be ready to have another child for at least 10 years, if even then.
Instead, six weeks later we brought another soul into the world.
Now out of heartache, there is blessing. I have a son in heaven who is as real to me as my son on earth. (I talk to him all the time in my heart). And Francisco's early death left room for an "extra" red headed daughter. The silly one who tells jokes in baby talk, and who puts on her Dad's dress shoes for a laugh and who sits on my head at 6:30 AM when I'd rather hit another round on the snooze alarm.
Christmas is about welcoming the most important baby in the world.
This Sunday we also remember the Blessed Mother who said YES in the most emphatic way possible. We need to say YES to God in all different ways in all parts of our life. Yet we married couples also need to say YES to Life in a special way.
Our Blessed Mother pray for us. Help us all be "handmaidens of the Lord" in our hearts.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
In a Grandma Jean State of Mind
I preformed an indulgence on "Christ the King" Sunday for my grandmother Jean's mother, (my great-grandma Ruth). It was an amazing experience to take communion for someone who suffered so much during her life, yet who never got to "taste Jesus."
Grandma Jean must have done cartwheels over that act because I've felt her loving presence in everything this Advent season. I've started calling it "my Grandma Jean Christmas."
First, I not only volunteered to host a cocktail party for Jon's office, I also spent 3 hours polishing my Grandma Jean's antique punchbowl. This is so NOT me! I completely rolled my eyes when my mother brought over a cracked bowl from my grandmas attic. "Hmm, thanks" I mumbled as my interior voice said "Why are you bringing this useless thing to me? Don't you realize that I have no closet space!"
Rather than being useless, my 5 year old daughter and I had a blast polishing the silver punch set together. The bowl was the hit of the party. I realize that when you live in a humble space with children's finger prints all over the mirror you just cleaned, it's nice to have at least one gleaming piece of company silver. Those 1950s housewives knew what they were doing!
Grandma Jean also nudged me to volunteer to knit a leper bandage. (I hope to post a picture soon). She's the one who taught me how to knit in elementary school. My first creation was supposed to be a scarf, but I ended up splitting my stitches badly. 20 stitches became 96 by the end of my creation. (For non-knitters that meant my scarf started at 2 inches across and ended up being over 1 1/2 feet across.) The leper bandage is a bit of a challenge, but its also fun. I pray to Blessed Father Damien during each row. Somehow I've tied Father Damien and our President Elect together in my mind (they are both from Hawaii). So during my knitting work I talk to Father Damien about changing the heart of President Obama. Every line of stitching is time in prayer I've spent rallying against the FOCA.
Finally, there's the music. Grandma Jean had these super silly songs she sang every time we came for a visit. The one that sticks in my head is "If I knew You were Coming I'd Baked You Cake." I seriously hadn't thought of that song since the late 1980s, yet this Advent I sing it all of the time. The best part is that my daughter Hannah LOVES it. I'll post a You Tube video so you can enjoy it too. It makes a nice accompaniment to your Christmas baking.
Grandma Jean must have done cartwheels over that act because I've felt her loving presence in everything this Advent season. I've started calling it "my Grandma Jean Christmas."
First, I not only volunteered to host a cocktail party for Jon's office, I also spent 3 hours polishing my Grandma Jean's antique punchbowl. This is so NOT me! I completely rolled my eyes when my mother brought over a cracked bowl from my grandmas attic. "Hmm, thanks" I mumbled as my interior voice said "Why are you bringing this useless thing to me? Don't you realize that I have no closet space!"
Rather than being useless, my 5 year old daughter and I had a blast polishing the silver punch set together. The bowl was the hit of the party. I realize that when you live in a humble space with children's finger prints all over the mirror you just cleaned, it's nice to have at least one gleaming piece of company silver. Those 1950s housewives knew what they were doing!
Grandma Jean also nudged me to volunteer to knit a leper bandage. (I hope to post a picture soon). She's the one who taught me how to knit in elementary school. My first creation was supposed to be a scarf, but I ended up splitting my stitches badly. 20 stitches became 96 by the end of my creation. (For non-knitters that meant my scarf started at 2 inches across and ended up being over 1 1/2 feet across.) The leper bandage is a bit of a challenge, but its also fun. I pray to Blessed Father Damien during each row. Somehow I've tied Father Damien and our President Elect together in my mind (they are both from Hawaii). So during my knitting work I talk to Father Damien about changing the heart of President Obama. Every line of stitching is time in prayer I've spent rallying against the FOCA.
Finally, there's the music. Grandma Jean had these super silly songs she sang every time we came for a visit. The one that sticks in my head is "If I knew You were Coming I'd Baked You Cake." I seriously hadn't thought of that song since the late 1980s, yet this Advent I sing it all of the time. The best part is that my daughter Hannah LOVES it. I'll post a You Tube video so you can enjoy it too. It makes a nice accompaniment to your Christmas baking.
If I Knew You Were Comin' I'd've Baked a Cake Eileen Barton
My Grandma Jeans favorite "the grandkids are here" song!
Knit Leper Bandages
If you can knit or crochet here is a good project for post-Christmas empty hands.
Lepers in the Vietnam and the Philippines need our prayers. The government of these two countries refuse to let in the medicine to treat leprosy in there countries. As a result, their citizens suffer from a completely treatable disease in modern times.
http://www.leprosybandages.blogspot.com/
Lepers in the Vietnam and the Philippines need our prayers. The government of these two countries refuse to let in the medicine to treat leprosy in there countries. As a result, their citizens suffer from a completely treatable disease in modern times.
http://www.leprosybandages.blogspot.com/
Send a Christmas Card to the Holy Father
For only 42 cents!
Heres the address for the Vatican City Embassy in D.C.
Apostolic Nunciature the Holy See
3339 Massachusetts Ave, NW
Washington, DC 20008
I'm having my kids draw pictures for Our Holy Father today. Don't forget to write a kind thank you note for all of your priests, deacons, religious, parish staff, and your Bishop as well. They work so hard for us during Advent!
Heres the address for the Vatican City Embassy in D.C.
Apostolic Nunciature the Holy See
3339 Massachusetts Ave, NW
Washington, DC 20008
I'm having my kids draw pictures for Our Holy Father today. Don't forget to write a kind thank you note for all of your priests, deacons, religious, parish staff, and your Bishop as well. They work so hard for us during Advent!
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