I just got home from seeing the movie Evening with Meryl Streep and Vanessa Redgrave, as well as a host of other fine actors. The screenplay is based on the book, of the same name, by Susan Minot. Michael Cunningham, author of The Hours was also involved in the screenplay. This movie probably falls into the category of "chick flick" but not in the same way as most that earn this designation. It is not a boy meets girl, they fall in love, and live happily ever after movie. Rather, it is a film that, if you really watch it, asks some difficult questions.
Without giving away the entire plot, because I recommend that you see it, I will say that the overarching message is that there are no mistakes in life. For the hour or so since I left the theater, I have been pondering this.
Really? There are NO mistakes in life? What about people who are divorced? Or in prison? Did they not make mistakes of one kind or another?
At this moment, I have come to the notion that maybe there is a distinction that must be made between a mistake and a bad choice. The two really are not synonymous.
Several years ago when we took the labyrinth into a minimum security women's prison, I listened to several of the inmates as they told their stories. I realize that much of what they said may have been fiction, but nonetheless, I remember thinking that all of us are just one bad decision away from being in their shoes. That is a scary realization for someone who is such a goody-two-shoes that I feel like helping myself to free refills in a restaurant is somehow stealing. Just one bad decision away from being in prison. I suppose that some of these woman may feel that they made a mistake. For whatever reason, their life took a path that led them to prison. In an ideal world, they will learn something from the experience and return to the world outside as a person who is changed for the better. I am not a Pollyanna; I know that this is not always the case. I did say in an ideal world.
Have people who have divorced because they married the wrong person made a mistake? A bad decision? Perhaps it takes having spent time in the wrong relationship to appreciate the right one when it comes along. Again, all the experiences that we encounter on our personal journey are important to forming the person that we ultimately become. There is no guarantee that the decisions we make, even the right ones, will not be painful or difficult. They very well may be, but that does not mean that they are a mistake. In fact, it may mean quite the opposite.
As I go to bed tonight, I am reliving my 45 years asking myself, "Do you think that anything that you have done in your life was a mistake?
All of these thoughts are definitely unfiltered. (This may be translated as rambling or not well formed. ) Perhaps I should have spent more time thinking before I chose to pontificate on this whole matter. All I can hope for is that if I said something really stupid, it will be regarded as a bad choice and not a mistake.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Responsible Adult
Yesterday was the first celebration of the many birthdays I mentioned the other day. It is amusing to me to see how adults choose to mark off the years. We celebrated Gerald's 35th birthday. Though finding the perfect gift could have been problematic, (What would you get a middle-aged former drag queen?) Gerald is just a big kid at heart. So, we got him play-dough. It was a cool set! It was like Mr. Potato Head except that rather than coming with a big plastic potato to stick all the crazy body parts in, you get to shape the body yourself with the play dough. A fantasy come true! He probably would have been happy with a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese, but the blonde pony tail moms get a little nervous when a bunch of adults come in to play games, so we went to the adult version of this kiddie restaurant, Winstar Casino just across the Oklahoma border. As we were making our way there, I realized that this really was kind of a grown-up thing and I don't do many things that can be considered grown-up activities.
The first thing that made me feel like an adult was that we did not even leave town and head for the casino until about 10, the time I am usually putting on my pajamas (though I am rarely in bed before 12 or 1.) As I mentioned in a recent post, I am not much of a gambler - not with important decisions and not with money. But what the heck, I don't do this kind of thing often.
The last time I was in a casino, you put your quarters in the machine, pulled the arm, and watched your money disappear. At Winstar, you get a card and add money to your card. The thrill of pulling the arm, and that little bit of exercise, are gone. I had decided that I would put $20 on my card and that was it. When we got there, I discovered that they had penny machines. Oh Good! $20 goes a long way when you are only betting a penny at a time. Granted the winnings aren't nearly as big,when you play pennies, but neither are the loses.
Liz and I headed for some game that involved frogs and fireflies. I never quite figured out what combinations won, but in about an hour I had racked up $44.06 on my card. I know that most of that came from a $20 firefly. I kept playing until my card was down to $40. I stopped then figuring that doubling my money, even if it wasn't much, was a pretty good deal. With that win, I made back the money I spent on dinner for me and Erin and got home with five dollars more than I left with. It is hard work being a responsible adult!
After my big night out, I slept away the bigger part of this morning. Okay, I admit that was kind of a teen-aged thing to do. Oh well, regression happens to the best of us. I did act responsibly this afternoon and worked on the models for the next issue of Spirit of Knitting. After knitting for a couple of hours, I went outside with the dogs. I sat out on the deck and enjoyed the late afternoon sun and a little breeze that brought the 99 degree temperature with heat index down to a tolerable 80 something. While I was sitting, thanking God that it was not raining, I realized how little I take advantage of this outdoor space. At this point, the only thing that was missing was a beverage.
I headed inside to fill my tea glass. On my way to the kitchen I walked by the wine rack. This rack holds bottles of wine that have been around for 10, maybe 20, years. We have received many bottles as gifts but the thought of drinking them never really crosses our minds - until today. I decided that since I was having a weekend of adult behavior (thankfully the casino was dry so no liquor was allowed on the premises)I would have a glass of wine before dinner. I picked out a bottle based on the eye-catching label not on the wine itself because I know so little about wine that the information on the label was almost meaningless to me. I poured a glass for me, BK, and John. Just like grown-ups, we sat outside and participated in cocktail hour. We followed it with brats on the grill and chips so the adult behavior did not last too long.
I enjoyed a weekend with some variation from the norm but I don't think that I can continue to masquerade as an adult for too long. The fact that I am about to finish writing this and press "Post" so that I can play a few rounds of Zuma before going to bed suggests that the kid in me is a whole lot stronger than the grown up.
To adulthood I say, "Are we there yet?"
The first thing that made me feel like an adult was that we did not even leave town and head for the casino until about 10, the time I am usually putting on my pajamas (though I am rarely in bed before 12 or 1.) As I mentioned in a recent post, I am not much of a gambler - not with important decisions and not with money. But what the heck, I don't do this kind of thing often.
The last time I was in a casino, you put your quarters in the machine, pulled the arm, and watched your money disappear. At Winstar, you get a card and add money to your card. The thrill of pulling the arm, and that little bit of exercise, are gone. I had decided that I would put $20 on my card and that was it. When we got there, I discovered that they had penny machines. Oh Good! $20 goes a long way when you are only betting a penny at a time. Granted the winnings aren't nearly as big,when you play pennies, but neither are the loses.
Liz and I headed for some game that involved frogs and fireflies. I never quite figured out what combinations won, but in about an hour I had racked up $44.06 on my card. I know that most of that came from a $20 firefly. I kept playing until my card was down to $40. I stopped then figuring that doubling my money, even if it wasn't much, was a pretty good deal. With that win, I made back the money I spent on dinner for me and Erin and got home with five dollars more than I left with. It is hard work being a responsible adult!
After my big night out, I slept away the bigger part of this morning. Okay, I admit that was kind of a teen-aged thing to do. Oh well, regression happens to the best of us. I did act responsibly this afternoon and worked on the models for the next issue of Spirit of Knitting. After knitting for a couple of hours, I went outside with the dogs. I sat out on the deck and enjoyed the late afternoon sun and a little breeze that brought the 99 degree temperature with heat index down to a tolerable 80 something. While I was sitting, thanking God that it was not raining, I realized how little I take advantage of this outdoor space. At this point, the only thing that was missing was a beverage.
I headed inside to fill my tea glass. On my way to the kitchen I walked by the wine rack. This rack holds bottles of wine that have been around for 10, maybe 20, years. We have received many bottles as gifts but the thought of drinking them never really crosses our minds - until today. I decided that since I was having a weekend of adult behavior (thankfully the casino was dry so no liquor was allowed on the premises)I would have a glass of wine before dinner. I picked out a bottle based on the eye-catching label not on the wine itself because I know so little about wine that the information on the label was almost meaningless to me. I poured a glass for me, BK, and John. Just like grown-ups, we sat outside and participated in cocktail hour. We followed it with brats on the grill and chips so the adult behavior did not last too long.
I enjoyed a weekend with some variation from the norm but I don't think that I can continue to masquerade as an adult for too long. The fact that I am about to finish writing this and press "Post" so that I can play a few rounds of Zuma before going to bed suggests that the kid in me is a whole lot stronger than the grown up.
To adulthood I say, "Are we there yet?"
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Thinking Of You. Really, I Am!
I am often made to feel guilty because of all the December birthdays that occur in my family. (The girls weren't due until January: it really isn't my fault) However, those of you born in July far outnumber us December babies, though December babies are still best. As I began looking at the calendar for this month, I realized that I have to buy birthday gifts for nine people. They range from my dad and my husband to my best friends, adopted family members and friends of the girls. It is almost like Christmas in July - without the crowds and the terrible arrangements of holiday music being piped through all of the stores. This should make shopping tolerable.
To me, birthday shopping is fun. I believe that it is an opportunity to really think about the person whose life you are celebrating. The gift you give them should reflect how you feel about them and the relationship that you share. I had already done some shopping as I have come across things that remind me of someone, but today was the day set aside to do the bulk of it. Several gifts have to be mailed so it is in my best interest not to wait until the last minute.
Over time I have developed a strong dislike for chain stores. So, this morning we set out for some of the locally owned businesses in town. Shopping at these places means that the only thing that can be on your shopping list is serendipity. These stores never have the same thing from one visit to the next. I go hoping that I can find "just the right thing.", but not having the slightest idea what that might be In most cases today, I was not disappointed. I found several great gifts that reflect my relationship with each person. The places where I came up empty handed are the instances where I was looking for something very specific. I am sure that I became so intent on finding what I was looking for that I overlooked something that would have been equally as appropriate or possibly even better. I guess I will have to undertake the chance approach next time.
The one thing I do not want to do is resort to gift cards. I know that they are always appreciated, but gift cards seem so impersonal unless you know what someone wants and buying the actual item is not possible for some reason. On general principle, however, gift cards seem like a cop out. They say, "I did not want to expend the energy to think about and shop for an appropriate gift for you so you do it yourself." On the contrary, for teenagers who are attempting to build their independence, shopping with a gift card is a means to facilitating an understanding of the concept of just how far a dollar does not go. For them too, the shopping is part of the fun. But, is this also true for adults?
Let's face it, most of us don't really need anything in terms of material things. What we do need is to know that someone cares about us. This gets back to my belief that a birthday gift should be something that lets the birthday person know that I care about them. Often, this can be accomplished with something very simple - a book, a silly toy, a meal or a cup of coffee together, something handmade. The possibilities really are endless.
I hope that all those to whom I give birthday gifts this month will sense that I do care about you and cherish the relationship that we have. I promise not to give any of you a toupee or Relationships for Dummies. Aside for these things, anything is fair game. Beware!
To me, birthday shopping is fun. I believe that it is an opportunity to really think about the person whose life you are celebrating. The gift you give them should reflect how you feel about them and the relationship that you share. I had already done some shopping as I have come across things that remind me of someone, but today was the day set aside to do the bulk of it. Several gifts have to be mailed so it is in my best interest not to wait until the last minute.
Over time I have developed a strong dislike for chain stores. So, this morning we set out for some of the locally owned businesses in town. Shopping at these places means that the only thing that can be on your shopping list is serendipity. These stores never have the same thing from one visit to the next. I go hoping that I can find "just the right thing.", but not having the slightest idea what that might be In most cases today, I was not disappointed. I found several great gifts that reflect my relationship with each person. The places where I came up empty handed are the instances where I was looking for something very specific. I am sure that I became so intent on finding what I was looking for that I overlooked something that would have been equally as appropriate or possibly even better. I guess I will have to undertake the chance approach next time.
The one thing I do not want to do is resort to gift cards. I know that they are always appreciated, but gift cards seem so impersonal unless you know what someone wants and buying the actual item is not possible for some reason. On general principle, however, gift cards seem like a cop out. They say, "I did not want to expend the energy to think about and shop for an appropriate gift for you so you do it yourself." On the contrary, for teenagers who are attempting to build their independence, shopping with a gift card is a means to facilitating an understanding of the concept of just how far a dollar does not go. For them too, the shopping is part of the fun. But, is this also true for adults?
Let's face it, most of us don't really need anything in terms of material things. What we do need is to know that someone cares about us. This gets back to my belief that a birthday gift should be something that lets the birthday person know that I care about them. Often, this can be accomplished with something very simple - a book, a silly toy, a meal or a cup of coffee together, something handmade. The possibilities really are endless.
I hope that all those to whom I give birthday gifts this month will sense that I do care about you and cherish the relationship that we have. I promise not to give any of you a toupee or Relationships for Dummies. Aside for these things, anything is fair game. Beware!
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Preparing For Independence Day
I am always fascinated by the segments on Jay Leno when he takes to the streets and asks average Americans questions that we assume are common knowledge. The ignorance of people in our country is astounding! I wonder what the responses would be if Jay were to ask, "Why do we celebrate the 4th of July?" I would hope that most people could at least get to the fact that it is Independence Day, but what does that really mean?
This celebration is a commemoration of the United States' freedom from the United Kingdom. 231 years later, are we still honoring the same thing? Maybe so. However, perhaps it would do us all good to think about what Independence Day in 2007 means. Have we achieved freedom, liberty, and justice for all? Be honest. We gained freedom from the English. Have we yet reached a point where all in this country are free? Does justice prevail. Consider the following:
This celebration is a commemoration of the United States' freedom from the United Kingdom. 231 years later, are we still honoring the same thing? Maybe so. However, perhaps it would do us all good to think about what Independence Day in 2007 means. Have we achieved freedom, liberty, and justice for all? Be honest. We gained freedom from the English. Have we yet reached a point where all in this country are free? Does justice prevail. Consider the following:
- Do we really have gender equality in this country?
- Do people of color have ALL the same rights as their white counterparts?
- Are gays and lesbians afforded the same rights as heterosexuals?
If we answer honestly, the response to each of the above questions is a resounding, "No." We do not live in a country where freedom is extended to every citizen. Though those who are considered "privileged" now constitute a larger percentage of the population than they have in the past, the lives of many of those who live in the United States are marked by a world of inequality and injustice. What can we do? Just as America fought for independence back in the 1770's, we must continue to fight for freedom and independence for those living in this country now. If you are a man, are you willing to fight and sacrifice to obtain equal rights for women? If you are white, are you willing to eat, sleep, work, live, pray by a neighbor who is black, brown, yellow, or red? Are you willing to fight for the rights of our homosexual brothers and sisters? If you answer no to any of these questions, then perhaps you do not yet understand what Independence Day really means.
As you gather with your family for picnics and fireworks tomorrow, remember those whose families are not recognized by this country and all those for whom justice and equality mean nothing. As you watch the fireworks illumine the dark night sky, may fireworks also explode in your heart and bring light to all those places where injustice and inequality are hidden by darkness.
. . . with liberty and justice for all.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
WWJY
What Would Jesus . . .Yell?
This is an interesting question, but not really where I am going. WWJY sums up my last day in Massachusetts. Witches, Water, Java, and Yarn.
After getting up at 5:45 every day and playing for 14 services, yesterday afternoon was a time for a little free wheeling - literally. Joy, who has played the flute and John Michael, who has played violin, with me all week took off for a scenic tour of the area. Joy loaded us all in her jeep, with the top down, and we headed out in the sunshine and fresh ocean air - for a little. Water, Witches, Java, and Yarn!
We ended up in Salem, hence the witches. It was a beautiful New England town. I had seen many tourist brochures advertising the witch museum, but we simply drove through the town. I am not sure that any of us had enough wits about us to take in the history at more than a superficial level.
We made a big circle and headed back to downtown Beverly. As we were approaching the edge of the commercial area, Joy swerved into a parking lot. We had no plans to stop so I wondered what she was doing. When I looked at where we were, it was a yarn shop. I crawled over the side of the jeep and made my way inside. I was the only knitter on this little field trip, but John Michael and Joy were willing to humor me. John Michael talked to the resident dog and Joy, though not a knitter, soaked up the beautiful colors and textures of the fibers. Before we were barely in the door, the woman behind the counter greeted us with a most cheerful voice. Being that we were obviously tourists, she asked where were from and what brought us to the area. I told her that I was from Texas and she responded, "me too!" She had been raised in south Texas. In fact she had just returned from a trip to Austin last week; we shared stories of our travels to Austin and Hill Country Weavers. All of the employees at this shop were cheerful and pleasant. I could have stayed all afternoon, but that would have been a little unfair to the others. We did ask them if there was a coffee shop that they would recommend. They suggested one diagonally across the street.
We all made our way to the coffee shop for a little caffeine to help us over the mid-afternoon slump. I had the best iced mocha that I think I have ever tasted. We all managed to make room for a sweet treat as well. Most drinkers are happy to close down a bar in the wee hours of the morning. This crowd closed down the coffee shop at 3 pm. It was a subtle reminder that we were in a small town and things don't have to do business 24/7.
With a few minutes to spare before we had to be back for evening prayer, we stopped for one last walk on the beach. The rocks and stones that had been washed up by the tides caught out attention. Scouring the shoreline, we found bright blue, green, terracotta, yellow - rocks of almost every color. We were like little children who had never been to the seashore before! An attempt was made by each of us to see how far we were willing to go into the water. None made it past about ankle deep. Needless to say, the water temperature is still on the cold side!
All in all it was a relaxing afternoon. The number of services we were asked to play with little or no practice and preparation was a bit on the stressful side. Add to that mix the fact that we had never played together, blood pressures were high. Having this time together to play and get to know one another beyond, "Are you playing the alto or soprano line" or "What are you playing for an intro?, allowed us to play better as an ensemble. Unfortunately, just as we were beginning to make real music together, the week was over. It will probably be five more years before we have another chance to make music together. Oh well . . .we worked hard; the reward is the gift of lifelong fellowship. Wat a blessing!
This is an interesting question, but not really where I am going. WWJY sums up my last day in Massachusetts. Witches, Water, Java, and Yarn.
After getting up at 5:45 every day and playing for 14 services, yesterday afternoon was a time for a little free wheeling - literally. Joy, who has played the flute and John Michael, who has played violin, with me all week took off for a scenic tour of the area. Joy loaded us all in her jeep, with the top down, and we headed out in the sunshine and fresh ocean air - for a little. Water, Witches, Java, and Yarn!
We ended up in Salem, hence the witches. It was a beautiful New England town. I had seen many tourist brochures advertising the witch museum, but we simply drove through the town. I am not sure that any of us had enough wits about us to take in the history at more than a superficial level.
We made a big circle and headed back to downtown Beverly. As we were approaching the edge of the commercial area, Joy swerved into a parking lot. We had no plans to stop so I wondered what she was doing. When I looked at where we were, it was a yarn shop. I crawled over the side of the jeep and made my way inside. I was the only knitter on this little field trip, but John Michael and Joy were willing to humor me. John Michael talked to the resident dog and Joy, though not a knitter, soaked up the beautiful colors and textures of the fibers. Before we were barely in the door, the woman behind the counter greeted us with a most cheerful voice. Being that we were obviously tourists, she asked where were from and what brought us to the area. I told her that I was from Texas and she responded, "me too!" She had been raised in south Texas. In fact she had just returned from a trip to Austin last week; we shared stories of our travels to Austin and Hill Country Weavers. All of the employees at this shop were cheerful and pleasant. I could have stayed all afternoon, but that would have been a little unfair to the others. We did ask them if there was a coffee shop that they would recommend. They suggested one diagonally across the street.
We all made our way to the coffee shop for a little caffeine to help us over the mid-afternoon slump. I had the best iced mocha that I think I have ever tasted. We all managed to make room for a sweet treat as well. Most drinkers are happy to close down a bar in the wee hours of the morning. This crowd closed down the coffee shop at 3 pm. It was a subtle reminder that we were in a small town and things don't have to do business 24/7.
With a few minutes to spare before we had to be back for evening prayer, we stopped for one last walk on the beach. The rocks and stones that had been washed up by the tides caught out attention. Scouring the shoreline, we found bright blue, green, terracotta, yellow - rocks of almost every color. We were like little children who had never been to the seashore before! An attempt was made by each of us to see how far we were willing to go into the water. None made it past about ankle deep. Needless to say, the water temperature is still on the cold side!
All in all it was a relaxing afternoon. The number of services we were asked to play with little or no practice and preparation was a bit on the stressful side. Add to that mix the fact that we had never played together, blood pressures were high. Having this time together to play and get to know one another beyond, "Are you playing the alto or soprano line" or "What are you playing for an intro?, allowed us to play better as an ensemble. Unfortunately, just as we were beginning to make real music together, the week was over. It will probably be five more years before we have another chance to make music together. Oh well . . .we worked hard; the reward is the gift of lifelong fellowship. Wat a blessing!
Here we all are with our head of liturgy after last night's Service of Profession.
After the final Eucharist this morning, I headed back to the airport. Though there was the possibility of long lines at security because of the recent problems in Europe, check-in at the airport was relatively painless. We did leave an hour late because of problems moving earlier plane off of our gate, but that was only a minor inconvenience. Once in the air, we were rerouted twice because of storms east of Texas. This scenic tour added another hour to our travel time. Once on the ground in Dallas, two hours late, we had to sit on the runway for 45 minutes until a gate was available. Our scheduled arrival time was 7:15. I finally walked off the plane at 10:08. It probably took another 30 minutes for the bags to come up. Except for the fact that I had not eaten all day because I missed breakfast to practice and lunch because of the airport shuttle schedule, and that I was exhausted, the trip was pleasant despite all of the unexpected delays.
I am glad to be home. All went well without me. That is nice to know. Perhaps I should find somewhere else to go!
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Images Of Endicott
Last night when I came to the library to write, I forgot the power cord to my computer (I had enough battery to do last night's short entry) and I forgot the card reader. SO here are yesterday's pictures and a few from this morning. I keep hoping for some sunrise pictures over the ocean but sunrise happens really early on the east coast! We have Morning Prayer at 6:30 am and the sun is already alive, awake, alert, and enthusiastic (as Erin says). Needless to say, I am doing well to alive and dressed decently when I meet my group for prayer. I ll have one last chance for sunrise pictures tomorrow.
Here is my spot in the cyber cafe that is in the basement of the library. I am becoming fond of this spot. There has never been anyone else here with me. Each table has good light and space as well as outlets for power and phone cord if you don't have a wireless connection. The only thing missing is the coffee. During the school year, a coffee bar is open in this space.
Alissa, Patrice, and BK, a piece of each of you made a trip to the beach last night. Though it had been 95 degrees on Thursday, yesterday dropped to the 70's; by last evening it was chilly down by the water, so much so that I had to wear long sleeves and socks for the first time since arriving in Beverly. The only pair of real socks I brought are my Seeing Stars (I hope that is the right name) designed by Alissa and knit by BK from yarn dyed by Patrice. Thanks guys!
Just in case you are wondering, I did do a little work on these here rocks last night. I knit the first side of the Peace Box for the next issue of Spirit of Knitting.
Here are some more Images of Endicott.
The beach as the sun is going down.
The Endicott fountain in daylight.
Here is my spot in the cyber cafe that is in the basement of the library. I am becoming fond of this spot. There has never been anyone else here with me. Each table has good light and space as well as outlets for power and phone cord if you don't have a wireless connection. The only thing missing is the coffee. During the school year, a coffee bar is open in this space.
Alissa, Patrice, and BK, a piece of each of you made a trip to the beach last night. Though it had been 95 degrees on Thursday, yesterday dropped to the 70's; by last evening it was chilly down by the water, so much so that I had to wear long sleeves and socks for the first time since arriving in Beverly. The only pair of real socks I brought are my Seeing Stars (I hope that is the right name) designed by Alissa and knit by BK from yarn dyed by Patrice. Thanks guys!
Just in case you are wondering, I did do a little work on these here rocks last night. I knit the first side of the Peace Box for the next issue of Spirit of Knitting.Here are some more Images of Endicott.
The beach as the sun is going down.
The same spot the next morning.
A rocky path to a sandy beach.
The smooth sands.
The Endicott fountain in daylight.
The Ghost of Final Exams Past.
A view from central campus.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Bring Me Your Tired, Your Poor, Your Breast
There are not many things in my life that I have undertaken with absolute certainty. I am not a risk taker, but not many choices we make in life are risk free or absolute certainties. We go to college intending to be one thing; we do our best to accomplish that goal, though often we find ourselves down the road doing something completely different. We make commitments to partners hoping it will be for a lifetime , but that is not for certain. And so on . . .
The only decision that I have made in my life that I can say, with absolute certainty, I was 100% sure of, was my decision to lead my life as a Franciscan. The example that Brother Francis gives me is everything that I need in this life. Francis was a real person who had real human emotions and made real human mistakes. But ultimately, his love for all of creation and his commitment to God set him apart. I see glimpses of myself in almost every story from Francis' life - from the rebellious teenager singing and partying in the streets of Assisi to the naked man who lay dying on the dirt floor of a cave. His was a life marked by love, humility, and joy It is a life, that through the grace of God, I am striving to follow.
The brothers who were speaking on the Franciscan source documents concluded their presentation this morning. They gave an insightful discussion about how to read the Franciscan Rule of 1223 in 2007. Their suggestions are really applicable to reading almost any historical document (like the Bible) whose words are to be followed in modern times. For example, the original Franciscan rule says that no friar shall ride a horse. Why are horses forbidden?, you ask. Does that mean that none of us can ride a horse? Absolutely not. One must ask oneself why horses were off limits in 1223. The answer is because they were a sign of violence and wealth. So horses themselves are not a problem, but to Francis, violence and wealth were. For us reading, interpreting, and attempting to follow the spirit of this rule, it is necessary to ask ourselves, "What in our society represents violence and wealth?" However you answer this question determines what you insert in place of "horse" in this section of the rule. We all decided that Hummers take this place of horses in 2007. But, you should answer the question for yourselves.
The other part of today's discussion centered on the miracles of St. Francis. Recording and verification of miracles are necessary for a saint to be canonized. I must admit, that I have not done much reading on the miracles that Francis performed. I discovered today that this is probably a good thing. Had I known about the miracle I am about to tell you about, I might have had to reconsider my belief that my decision to take vows in TSSF was without any feeling of uncertainty.
There was an 80 year old woman. She had the mind of an 80 year old, the body of an 80 year old, and the family of an 80 year old. As the story goes, this woman's doughier gave birth to a son. The infant refused to nurse. Over a period of several days, the baby grew weaker and weaker. Being pained by the demise of her grandson, the elderly woman took over the care of the baby. She prayed to Francis that health be restored to the ailing child. The grandmother then placed the baby at her own breast. Almost instantly, her breasts were filled with milk and the child began to nurse. According to the story, some men were mocking the old lady; she turned and aimed her milk-filled breast at them and soaked them all. The infant returned to health.
I am not sure I want Francis in my life if there is any way in the world that I could be lactating at age 80! I did not even breast feed my own children. What a story. I have never considered a milk-filled breast as a weapon, (maybe breasts should be used in place of horses above) but it seems to have worked for grandma.
I suppose that if God called me to feed the hungry and this were the way to do it, I would do so. Do you think God provides those pads that go in your bra? Do you think that those old lady boobs perked up? I should not worry about these things; I have 35 years before this scenario is a possibility. (The 80 years old is the important part, right?)
I come to you humbly Brother Francis asking that you please, please, please, find another way for me.
The only decision that I have made in my life that I can say, with absolute certainty, I was 100% sure of, was my decision to lead my life as a Franciscan. The example that Brother Francis gives me is everything that I need in this life. Francis was a real person who had real human emotions and made real human mistakes. But ultimately, his love for all of creation and his commitment to God set him apart. I see glimpses of myself in almost every story from Francis' life - from the rebellious teenager singing and partying in the streets of Assisi to the naked man who lay dying on the dirt floor of a cave. His was a life marked by love, humility, and joy It is a life, that through the grace of God, I am striving to follow.
The brothers who were speaking on the Franciscan source documents concluded their presentation this morning. They gave an insightful discussion about how to read the Franciscan Rule of 1223 in 2007. Their suggestions are really applicable to reading almost any historical document (like the Bible) whose words are to be followed in modern times. For example, the original Franciscan rule says that no friar shall ride a horse. Why are horses forbidden?, you ask. Does that mean that none of us can ride a horse? Absolutely not. One must ask oneself why horses were off limits in 1223. The answer is because they were a sign of violence and wealth. So horses themselves are not a problem, but to Francis, violence and wealth were. For us reading, interpreting, and attempting to follow the spirit of this rule, it is necessary to ask ourselves, "What in our society represents violence and wealth?" However you answer this question determines what you insert in place of "horse" in this section of the rule. We all decided that Hummers take this place of horses in 2007. But, you should answer the question for yourselves.
The other part of today's discussion centered on the miracles of St. Francis. Recording and verification of miracles are necessary for a saint to be canonized. I must admit, that I have not done much reading on the miracles that Francis performed. I discovered today that this is probably a good thing. Had I known about the miracle I am about to tell you about, I might have had to reconsider my belief that my decision to take vows in TSSF was without any feeling of uncertainty.
There was an 80 year old woman. She had the mind of an 80 year old, the body of an 80 year old, and the family of an 80 year old. As the story goes, this woman's doughier gave birth to a son. The infant refused to nurse. Over a period of several days, the baby grew weaker and weaker. Being pained by the demise of her grandson, the elderly woman took over the care of the baby. She prayed to Francis that health be restored to the ailing child. The grandmother then placed the baby at her own breast. Almost instantly, her breasts were filled with milk and the child began to nurse. According to the story, some men were mocking the old lady; she turned and aimed her milk-filled breast at them and soaked them all. The infant returned to health.
I am not sure I want Francis in my life if there is any way in the world that I could be lactating at age 80! I did not even breast feed my own children. What a story. I have never considered a milk-filled breast as a weapon, (maybe breasts should be used in place of horses above) but it seems to have worked for grandma.
I suppose that if God called me to feed the hungry and this were the way to do it, I would do so. Do you think God provides those pads that go in your bra? Do you think that those old lady boobs perked up? I should not worry about these things; I have 35 years before this scenario is a possibility. (The 80 years old is the important part, right?)
I come to you humbly Brother Francis asking that you please, please, please, find another way for me.
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