Pruning Our Vines

Those of you who have ever owned a Crepe Myrtle know this: You can prune them by sawing them down to nothing and they almost always grow back twice in size.

There is a lot of controversy among the "experts" as to the proper method of pruning these tree's.  In my experience, I could pour gasoline and light a match and they will grow back.  With each passing season, with each pruning, they always seem to get bigger.

Crepe Myrtles really have me thinking about the Gospels...especially the Gospel of John 15:1-8.  You hear Jesus tell His disciples that he is the "True Vine" and His Father is the "True Vine Grower".  Jesus warns that "every branch that does not bear fruit will be taken away".  He also says that "every branch that bears fruit will be pruned".

Either way you look at it, both are painful.  Obviously, being "cut off" would be the more severe of the two.  Really...who wants to be cut off?  On the flip side, being pruned sounds painful, too. In fact, if you are bearing more fruit, you are more likely in need of pruning. Can't the good "fruit bearer's" be left to bear fruit in peace?  What's up with all the pruning and pain?  Is there no incentive for being a "fruit bearer"?

The truth of the matter is this: Jesus never promised that those who followed Him would live a "life full of perks".  In fact, the Gospels teach the complete opposite.  As I flip through the channels and come across the "New Evangelists" of today, their messages contrasts with Gospels so significantly that its dumbfounding.  These preachers and their invocations...they would have no problem convincing the masses that green is actually purple!

Sadly, they are completely missing the point. How many times have we heard, "The more you give, the more you will receive"?  While this is true, it is true in a totally different context than what many portray. I can't tell you how many 2 a.m. channel surfing testimonies I've heard: People giving their last $10 to a church -low and behold- God blessed them with better jobs, more money and a penthouse suite. Yes, the more you give the more you will receive...but "receiving" has nothing to do with the $800,000 ocean front condo you can now afford!  Or how about the $80,000 Jaguar sitting in your driveway. This is NOT a result of being a "better fruit bearer".  The monetary luxuries you have in your life are incongruent with Jesus and the Gospels. For over 2,000 years, those "closest" to Him were NOT walking around claiming they "got rich" because they "believed".  Quite the contrary!! Let's talk about how many saints rejected their family inheritance to live a monastic life.  With all due respect, I can't imagine the Joyce Meyers' or the Joel Olstein's of the world being Beatified when they die. While many find them to be entertaining, spiritual and deeply religious, my opinion is exactly an that...an opinion.  They don't hold a candle to Mother Teresa or St. Francis of Assisi.

Pruning hurts. The more we grow in Christ and the more we grow in His love, the more we will feel those painful sheers.  Every time we feel those sharp pangs, we must remind ourselves that the best things in life are sometimes the things that bring us the most pain (as I'm sure you mom's out there can affirm).  With each pruning, God blesses us with the opportunity to grow back twice in size (just like those Crepe Myrtles).  And if we are "fruit bearers", I am certain we will feel those shears more often than we might hope.  While I pray God's pruning of me never involves gasoline and a match, I have to believe it's much better than the alternative.

Bad Times...Hard Times...

"Bad times, hard times - this is what people keep saying; but let us live well, and times shall be good. We are the times. Such as we are, such are the times."--St. Augustine

Reflections on Dr. Sri's "A Biblical Walk Through The Mass" (Part 1)

Recently, Dr. Edward Sri took me on an awe-inspiring biblical journey through the Mass and the upcoming changes that will soon be taking place.  His theological insight into what is actually happening when we celebrate this holy sacrifice left me with a deeper understanding and awareness.  It is a bitter-sweet realization to finally hear with my heart, the prayers of the Mass. Many of us are guilty of reciting the prayers and not taking into considering what we are actually saying. To understand what these prayers mean, where they come from and why they are being said...well, that's an entirely different experience altogether.  Through Sri's new book, "A Biblical Walk Through The Mass", we are given a four dimensional view of the Mass, it's sacred traditions and the changes to come.  Beginning with the Sign Of The Cross and working his way through the Readings, the Gospel, the Homily, the Eucharistic Prayers, the Dismissal and everything in between, Sri's enlightenment will help us better prepare our hearts for the holy sacrifice of the Mass.

As a cradle Catholic, I am guilty of putting little thought or effort into the prayers I take part in every week.  There are so many aspects of the Mass that I have never questioned or examined.  When my husband and I first began dating and I invited him to Mass, I remember laughing when he jokingly mocked the chants of the priest.  He is not Catholic and did not understand it's purpose...and of course I did not have answers.  Having been exposed to the Mass my entire life, I never considered how odd our prayers and gestures might be to our non-Catholic friends.  Again, my husband was caught off guard when it was time to shake hands and offer "peace" to those around us. Combine that with the constant Signing of The Cross, the kneeling and the sharing in the "cup of blood".  Ironically, he was ready for a cup of something by the time we were dismissed!  On the flip side of this, I remember how awkward it was for me when I attended a non-Catholic church service with one of my friends. There were people convulsing and speaking in tongues, leaving me in a state of bewilderment. I too, did not understand nor was I given an explanation.  Needless to say, I never returned.  When our friends and loved ones ask us why we pray or worship in a certain way, we should be prepared to give them an answer.  As Catholics, we should know, understand and believe in the holiness of the Mass.

As Sri so eloquently states, "...Jesus' passion, death and resurrection is made present to us in the Eucharistic liturgy so that we can be more deeply incorporated into Jesus' life and Mission".  Being well versed in the biblical roots of the Mass won't directly solve all the worlds problems, but it is definitely the foundation we should be striving to build our house on.

"And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church" Matthew 16:18

Tough Times

I have to say, the past few months could easily be categorized as "Tough Times".  For two months, I found myself asking, "Why me?  Why is life easy for so many people but here I am just spinning my wheels...and nothing".

Oh, I know I'm supposed to be fearless.  I'm supposed to have courage and say, "I believe in God...Bring it on". Believe me, I want to be fearless. But here is the reality: I also want an easy life.  I want my husband to be Catholic. I want a perfect, happy, Catholic family.  I want him to see the Church in the same light as me.  Furthermore, I do not want hardship or disagreements in my career. I want stability.  If I am working seven days a week, I want it to pay off.

For over a year, I've read stories of the Saints and the many trials and tribulations surrounding them.  They prayed for suffering.  This was baffling to me.  I understand trying to be brave when you are in the midst of suffering...but to actually PRAY for suffering...why would anyone pray for suffering? Aren't we supposed to pray for a life where we can stop to smell the roses?

The more I tried to tap into the mind frame of these spiritual people, the more I feared coming face-to-face with my own crosses.  These Saints were brave people but I was not ready to pray for suffering.

I keenly remember one morning last summer. I was just beginning to develop a habit of prayer and reflection.  I remember having this overwhelming fear that things would not always be calm.  I knew struggle was no longer an "if"... it was a "when". Going to Sam's Club to stock up on bottled water was not going to prepare me...I needed spiritual preparation. I needed to mature in my relationship with God.  I knew that if I didn't, everything would be at stake.  I did not want to lose this newly found faith.  I did not want to question Him in the midst of future struggles.  I had some work to do.

Eventually, just as I feared, I was dealt a hand that I left me feeling unsure.  It didn't make sense and I wasn't sure why or how it happened.  I went through all the motions of second guessing myself and wishing there was something I could do to reverse the outcome. However, it was not in God's plan to be reversed.

In the midst of the chaos, I did not lose my faith.  During my hardship, I managed to put all of my trust in Him.  In fact, I found myself saying more prayers and I even did a Novena.  All this extra prayer and devotion, but my sorrows did not dissolve immediately.

God knows what He is doing. If He had let me avoid this distress altogether, I may not have developed this profound belief in the power of prayer.  If He had answered my prayers immediately, He may have answered the wrong prayer.

Yes, God knows what He is doing.  The painful circumstance that I found myself in turned out to be a blessing.  If those circumstances had not happened (exactly how they happened) my situation might have been much worse. Two months ago, when I felt very alone, God was actually hard at work.  He was very much in my corner (and still is).  The job I thought I wanted, the people I thought I wanted to work for...well, it turns out that God had a much better plan in store for me.

The perfect, Catholic family I wished for is no longer at the top of my list.  It turns out that my "not-so-Catholic" husband just might be a Saint. Although he rarely comes to Mass and has little interest in God, he loves me.  For a month when I was feeling down, I came home to a clean home and a cooked meal.  When he had plenty of reasons to be angry with me, he never let it show.  He even reminded me that I should be putting all my energy into the Catholic faith I talked so highly of.  My non-Catholic, non-praying husband was encouraging me to pray and be positive...and he took care of everything while I prayed.  I still have hope that he'll convert.  In fact, with his intuitive understanding about the human spirit, he would be a welcomed blessing.  However, there is a time and place for everything and God knows what He's doing...

Maybe my recent "Tough Times" were just small contractions, as I am certain there are still "Tougher Times" ahead. Yes, God knows what He's doing...

I am no Saint nor do I have the faith of a Saint.  I am not a theologian and cannot make claims to always "get it".  The bible intimidates me and I sometimes forget to pray. I am a thirty-something woman who has gone through some minor sufferings in life.  Through my minor sufferings, I was given a glimmer of something bigger than me.  Through the very cross I tried my best to avoid, I experienced a deeper presence of God.  In my turmoil, I was brought to my knees and He was there to pick me up.  In my darkness, He was there holding me, comforting me.  God knows what He's doing...

And so when I read stories of the Saints and their prayers for suffering, I suspect they know what they're doing too...

16670

16670

On a summer afternoon in 1941 at Auschwitz concentration camp, many heard the piercing cry of Franciszek Gajowniczek, "Oh, my poor wife, my poor children. I shall never again see them."  On this particular day, Gajowniczek had been one of ten condemned to the airless, underground starvation bunker.  In the middle of hell on earth, hell was indeed getting worse. It would be his fate to die a slow and painful death below ground with no food or water.

In 1941, that very day, something unexpected happened.  Prisoner number 16670 stepped forward, "I would like to take his place, for he is a husband and a father".  Normally, this action would have warranted an execution on the spot.  However, the head guard responded, "Who is this Polish Pig?  Take him away". Within seconds, number 16670 and the other nine men were taken to the middle of Auschwitz where they were thrown underground to die.

After being shoved into their cells, 16670 began leading these men in hymns.  In the middle of their worst torment, this man consoled nine dying men with hymns, confessions and prayers.  One by one, as the men began to die, the singing continued until only four remained.  The Nazi's were so annoyed that they elected to kill the remaining by injecting acid into their veins. One of the guards who later gave testimony says that inmate 16670 did not even hear them coming.  He was found kneeling and so transfixed in prayer that he did not even bother to look up.  He simply stuck out his arm and accepted fates final blow.  Number 16670 was Father Maximilian Kolbe.

Upon hearing this story, I was literally brought to tears.  Tears for the pain & suffering that so many endured during World War II.  Tears for the men and women who were stripped of their dignity and could not be consoled. Tears for the courageous and heroic actions of Father Kolbe and the other martyrs our church history has known.  You see, Father Kolbe understood his fate when he offered to change places with that man.  By no means was he under the assumption that saying the rosary or hearing confessions would magically transport him from his place of torment.  This brave man knew, without a doubt, where his final breath would lead...and he found peace in it.

Yes, it is true that the story of the Catholic church has been marked by several era's of a dark and corrupt clergy.  With the recent sex abuse scandals, the church again has found herself in the midst of dark times.  But the darkness is not her only story...her story is about so much more.

Author/speaker Scott Hahn puts it perfectly:  "Do we see further in the day or at night?  Most people would say the day but I have to say at night.  At night we can see billions of miles away...all the stars come out at night". 

We are indeed in dark times; but the story of Father Kolbe, the stories of our Saints, and the preservation of Christianity through Church are our stars.  In my eyes, the Church and her stories are magnetic, mystifying, ritualistic, insightful, passionate, fulfilling...beautiful.  At times, it literally takes my breath away.  In my brokenness...in my suffering and sorrow, I am fully aware of my need for this church.   Through the story of Saint Kolbe, through your story and mine, let us be the bright stars in the night.

O Lord Jesus Christ, who said, "Greater love than this no man has that a man lay down his life for his friends."
Through the intercession of St. Maximilian Kolbe whose life illustrated such love, we beseech you to grant us our petitions:
For those in our families who are enslaved to drugs, St. Kolbe pray for us.
For those in prison, especially those who have been falsely accused, St. Kolbe pray for us.

For those who are with child and considering abortion, St. Kolbe pray for us.

Answered Prayers

This past Sunday, I was feeling particularly down.  It was cold and rainy...I just wanted to stay in bed all day.  Not only that, but for the first time in over a year, I didn't feel like going to Mass.  I just felt void.

By 5 p.m., I knew I had 30 minutes left to make it to Sunday night Mass.  I thought, "Erin, you know you need to go - You know you'll feel better afterwards".

By 5:25 and five minutes to spare, I found myself nestled into a pew. Sitting towards the back dim corner of the church, this spot perfectly matched my mood.

God knew what He was doing by allowing me to procrastinate all day long.  If I had gone to morning Mass, I wouldn't have been there for Benediction and Adoration.  Because I am unable to receive the Eucharist right now, Adoration is so very special to me. Its my face-to-face time with God.

During Mass and for an hour afterwards, I sat in my cozy spot and prayed.  I prayed for God to allow me to feel His presence in my heart.  I prayed for Him to increase my faith.  I prayed for Him to increase my love.  Although it was cold and raining, my heart couldn't have felt warmer leaving church that night.

By the time I reached the comforts of my bed, I had long forgotten my prayer from an hour earlier.  What I did notice was a book that sat untouched on my nightstand.  One of the women in my weekly prayer group let me borrow it just a month before but I had not gotten around to reading it.

At 8 p.m., I opened the book and could not put it down.  By 12 a.m., I was still reading.  I had to work in the morning and needed to sleep so I forced myself to turn out my light.  At 4 a.m., I woke up and could think of nothing else but the book.  So for the next 3 hours before work, I read...and read...and read.

On my way to work I realized, without a doubt, that God was answering my prayers from the night before.  I asked to feel His presence in my heart...I asked Him to increase my faith...I asked for Him to increase my love.  Through this story, He answered all of my prayers. 

As my relationship with God grows, I become more and more aware of the "small miracles" that are happening in my life.  Things I used to brush off or not put much thought into I am now seeing in a different light.  God does answer our prayers.  Sometimes they are answered in chance encounters, sometimes through a story or book and other times through a thoughtful gesture or simple act of kindness.

The book is called "Left To Tell" by Immaculee Ilibagiza.  Its a remarkable story of a beautiful woman who survives a genocide in 1993.  She was only a teenager when her family and friends were being slaughtered all around her.  In the midst of unimaginable horror, her story of survival and her faith in God are something I have no words to explain.  I just know that she is remarkable and her story touched my soul.

There is a time and place for all things.  Maybe if I had read this book a month earlier, it's impact would not have left the same impression on my heart.  Or maybe God knew that on Sunday, March 27th, I would need a lift...I am not sure.  I just know that after finishing this book, I once again felt the Holy Spirit come alive inside of me.  I felt His presence all around me...it was and still is a lovely embrace.

Artwork by Cathy Jamison - Warm Embrace

Reflection of Stations

I am embarrassed to admit but this past Friday evening was the first "Stations of The Cross" that I have participated in since I was in high school (1996). What a beautiful devotion to take part in...I was literally brought to tears during the meditations.  I do not remember being so emotional in my past experiences with the Stations, however, I was only 17.  I am sure that on the rare occasion I participated, my mind wandered to all other areas of my life having little or nothing to do with faith.

God, I truly feel that I am your "Prodigal Daughter".  Throughout all of life's hardships, I was always too stubborn to rely or put faith in you.  After everything I have done and failed to do, you picked me up in my brokenness.  Thank you for opening up your arms...thank you for welcoming me home. If there is a person on earth who is undeserving of your Grace, it is me.

My prayer today: Lord, increase the faith of my family and friends, especially the "Prodigal Children" who have not made it home.