Adoration and Understanding

Since I'm so silent here lately, at least I can post the article I wrote for my parish bulletin. I put in a little squib once each month to announce our 24-hour Eucharistic Adoration on First Fridays. Thinking up one paragraph to place among the school announcements, lecter schedules and wedding announcements to catch the attention of the fence-sitter is a fun challenge each time.

C. S. Lewis wrote “The instruction, after all, is to ‘Take. Eat.’ It was not ‘Take. Understand.’” Part of the power of Adoration in the heart and mind is that you cannot reach the end of God! There is always something to learn, by reading the Bibles and books put out for your use, or in simply presenting your concerns to God, for a mutual review. Or, finally, just sitting quietly and being in the presence of Love Incarnate.

I so wish people would give a few minutes of their time to the simple prayer of Adoration, on the way to work, on the way home, at lunch, before a date, after a date (what a test!).... It's not scary, there's no rules (other than silence), nobody can tell if you're "doing it wrong," and you can't do it wrong!

Why Therese Z hasn't been around much, either

Actually, no excuse. Just no worthwhile bloggable thoughts, tapped out, only a bunch of harumphs, as in "Harumph. If all the rosaries strung over the rear view mirrors of cars were actually used in prayer and meditation on Christ's love for us, peace would already reign in the US!" And "Harumph. If people would just come to church for three months, say, without complaining, their lives would change, and they'd stop complaining to me!" See how fruitless?

Hope your Lent is a time of holiness, and your Spring is as exciting as Roz's.

Why Roz hasn't been around much

What he said.

My humblest apologies.

The Rhythm of Blogging and of Sundays

We've stretched out the intervals in our blogging. It's not for want of love for Christ and His Church, it's not even the volume of work this time of year for me, or for all the wonderful events in Roz' life.

I don't have much to say here right now. I spent an intense time of prayer a few days ago that almost scared me, because I'd been begging the Lord to make my love more real for Him, so that I didn't slough (sluff?) Him off amidst the business of my life, no more than I'd ignore a loved one in my house or at least in my life just because I was busy. And He gave me some time where I understood that our relationship can withstand fourteen pending deadlines at work....

So the rhythm of a relationship is there: I get distracted and I turn again to Him. Thank God for the blogworld, always there to inspire me, or to irritate me, or to make me look up an answer, to provoke me to think. And thank God for Sundays, when we are required to pay Him a little attention. Without that anchor coming around once a week, I don't know how many Christians keep their feet on the path, on the Way. I'm lucky; I can go to near-daily Mass, which is a little cycle of love and life. The bigger weekly cycle of Love and life is absolutely essential to a Christian life.

I heard a preacher this morning on the radio, a very well-spoken man of some unspecific Protestant affiliation, urge his congregation to weekly church attendance or "some other form of worship." Those weasel words right in the middle of his otherwise well-done sermon jarred me: why open the door to sinful people (me included) to define what "some other form of worship" is? Before you know it, the three-wood's in your hand, and you're "worshiping God" on the golf course.

This morning, I will go to a much later Mass at a different church, because I am sponsoring an adult friend of mine for Confirmation, so we're going to his church at times for the special times of his reception of the Sacrament. That brings up the downside of rhythm: the Scrutinies occur over three Sundays. That's three Sundays I'm away from my own church, not at my normal crack'o'dawn Mass with my normal friends and our normal coffee afterwards. I am not comfortable at this other church, I'm uncomfortable with waiting until nearly noon for Mass, I'm out of my holy rut and I don't like it one bit.

How dare I? It's Jesus Christ in all His Glory, witnessed among our frail and unskilled and sinful efforts at answering His invitation to join Him at the Last Supper, at Calvary, at the empty tomb, at the mount of Ascent. Remembering that is a humbling and enriching experience: it's not my showing up at my appointed time in my appointed way that makes Him present. I should probably take this lesson and occasionally deliberately go to another Mass (aargh! the dreaded children's choir Mass! the too-white folk-rock (but still sincere) Mass! the Spanish Mass! I can even go to a Vietnamese Mass without travelling too far, but I would probably be a little conspicuous, not being Asian...)

I hope your Lent is a blessed stretch of your spirit and heart.

What is the meaning of life?

Someone is actually asking that question. Scotty, a friend of my daugher, has set up a web site at www.meaningoflifebook.com to collect and eventually publish people's thoughts on the matter. I encourage you to go over and weigh in. But don't forget to leave your thoughts in the comments box before you go.

This was my contribution:

Since I believe I was created by God, looking for life's meaning from the starting question, "What does life mean TO ME?" can't get me to a fully authentic answer. It would be like asking my cat the meaning of my computer.

So, finding the meaning of life has to come from the perspective of how and why my life came to be. To the best of my understanding so far, life itself and my life in particular have not only a meaning but a deep purpose. God created me because he is so full of love that he wanted lots of company. He takes joy in my existence and that of each of us. The purpose of my life, then, is to grow into a reciprocal delightful relationship with God, let him choreograph the circumstances of my life as we go along, and finally join him fully at a big unending welcome-home party after I die.

My occasional determination to forge my own path and pursue what can only hurt me in the end is an obstacle, but a solvable one. Remembering who I really am means keeping in mind the who and why of how I came to be. Taking care of that real me can help me live fully and well. It’s similar to the way that following the owner's manual for my car and getting regular oil changes instead of drag racing dry will keep me from throwing a rod in the engine and junking what had been a beautifully-engineered vehicle.

The owner's manual for me gives me guidelines for regular preventative maintenance and instructions about personal repairs when needed. The fact that I'm oriented within my purpose enables me to cooperate with the meaning of my work, my relationships, my talents, my frustrations and my pain. There's a center of gravity, bedrock under my feet, and I know where I'm going.