Am I really willing to serve?

For St. Joseph's Morning Prayer today I had the privilege of reflecting on John 13:1-9:

You’ve got to love Peter. In one breath he goes from, “You will never wash my feet” to “Not only my feet but my hands and head as well!” Peter’s love for his teacher was so great, that we could read his initial refusal in two ways – perhaps he did not want Jesus to perform this lowly task of washing his sandy, dusty feet and drying them with a clean towel. Or perhaps, he was so confident in his faith that he did not see himself as needing this symbolic, ritual cleaning.

But when Jesus says he must submit to the ritual or risk his own salvation, he responds almost comically with “Not only my feet but my hands and head as well!” Is this hyperbole? Or is this Peter asking for the fullness of his Lord’s blessing so that his discipleship will be all-in? His feet might represent any weakness he still has in his attachment to earthly things; his hands perform works of compassionate service; and his head seeks to understand his faith in Jesus and all that Jesus asks of him.

Later in the passage Jesus explains that he has washed his disciples’ feet as a model of the kind of servant leadership he wants them to perform. Today we have the greatest example of that leadership so literally, so beautifully in Peter’s successor, our Vicar of Christ, Pope Francis, who offers his heart, his hands, his head in the service of others. This very day, Pope Francis washed the feet of men and women who are incarcerated in Rome. Prisoners, criminals, the lost, the forgotten, the unclean. You’ve got to love Pope Francis.

On this day when we remember the servant leadership of our Lord and Savior, we are vividly reminded that we too are called to this extreme kind of service. Pope Francis says that he does this because it is what Jesus taught us to do: to help one another, even when we don’t really want to. We serve others because it is our duty but a duty that comes from a clean and willing heart.

Today, we can reflect on the question Pope Francis asks:

“Am I really willing, willing to serve, to help others? Let us think about this,” he suggests, “just this.”

“Am I really willing, willing to serve, to help others?”

Companions in Hope

When we were creating our videos for Rediscovering Catholic Faith at St. Joseph’s, I was fortunate to work on this week’s Sunday celebration of All Souls Day. It doesn’t fall on a Sunday too frequently, and so when it does, it’s a beautiful opportunity to reflect on the question so often asked at times of loss, “What would I do without my faith?”

The subject always reminds me of theologian Elizabeth Johnson, CSJ and what she writes about  the dead and particularly, the Communion of Saints. In Friends of God and Prophets she writes: “…the symbol of the communion of saints bears the pledge that in and through the wrenching of death, terrible at times, an ever so quiet ‘Alleluia’ can be heard. Having arrived at their destiny, the living dead become our companions in hope.” The communion of saints which includes the canonized saints, the souls in purgatory, and our own beloved dead who have died in friendship with God, can become a source of hope and companionship for us in our own journeys of faith.

The Catholic faith gives us a rich storehouse of truths about the Communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting. These truths give meaning to the process of grieving a loved one, providing great consolation and, ultimately, hope.

May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace, and may we have peace in our hearts knowing they are with God and we will see them again.

Blessings,

Cathy

Confessions of a Suburban Snob

In week three of the “Rediscover Catholic Faith” series at St. Joseph’s, Father Jim Schwartz talks about the “Great Commandment” in this Sunday’s Gospel as the “guts” of Catholic morality: “You shall love the Lord your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

I believe that, really believe that. And I thought that my recent years’ ministry experiences had gotten me beyond some of the stereotypes and knee-jerk reactions that can lurk in the dark recesses of our suburban hearts when we encounter those living in different circumstances from ourselves. Recent experiences tell me I have a long way to go in living the Great Commandment.

This summer, when we were “between homes” for a few weeks, we were blessed to have an apartment in Rochester available to us, thanks to our future son-in-law, Ryan, and daughter, Sarah. It seemed like an adventure at first—sleeping on a mattress, camp chairs as the only furniture, no cooking utensils—maybe a mini vacation of sorts. But the feeling soon changed when we realized that Ryan’s and Sarah’s upstairs tenants were less than model renters. In the first week we had to call the police twice to break up violent domestic disputes; we listened with sinking hearts to the place being trashed; and I got bit by one of their dogs. I found myself having less-than-Christian feelings toward more than the aggressive canine.

Now we are happily resettled in Webster, the town known as the place “where life is worth living.” We are fortunate to have a charming apartment with beautiful green space, and a spectacular park and walking trails right out our back door. A place that even welcomes our beloved, 87-pound, very lively labradoodle, Cooper.

But guess what? We don’t have model renters upstairs in Webster either. They yell at each other; they are not light on their feet; they have too many cars; they don’t pick up after their dog (when they let the little guy out). I find myself having less-than-Christian feelings toward more than the messy pup.

Perhaps St. Augustine has the best prayer. “I believe, Lord, help my unbelief.” I believe the Great Commandment is the way to live but it’s hard when it’s your actual neighbors testing your Christian values. Help my unbelief!

Blessings,

Cathy

Getting Creative about Rediscovering Catholic Faith

This past Sunday on the cover of our St. Joseph's bulletin, I posted a series of questions we Catholics might struggle with: What is salvation? What are the themes of Catholic social teaching? Which line of Scripture captures the "guts" of Catholic morality? What do we believe about the afterlife? What are the four marks of the Church? What makes a talent a “charism?” (Some people have said these questions are hard.)

We could dust off our Baltimore Catechisms and other documents for the answers, or we could open a Bible. The Sunday Gospels from October 12 through November 16 offer ways to reflect on and respond to each of those questions. The staff at St. Joseph’s has put together a six-week series to explore how the Gospels for these six Sundays address these questions of Catholic teaching and tradition. The Bible is the foundation of all that our Church teaches – spending time with the Gospels is a great way to “Rediscover Catholic Faith,” as we are calling this study series.

Specifically, this week, we read in the Gospel of Matthew about the Pharisees’ trick question to Jesus about paying taxes to the Roman empire. We can ponder how we as Catholics can have a positive influence on our society and culture, even our government, as election time approaches. And how we can repay to God what belongs to God (which is, of course, everything).

It’s been especially enjoyable for me to work with Father Jim Schwartz and our “video team” to create a series of six videos commentaries. Father Jim did three and I did three. It was a great way to rekindle the creative, “Spirit-filled” energy that once felt sparked by the preparation of Sunday reflections. I’m grateful for the creative talents and friendship of Deacon Duncan Harris (videography), Matt Curlee (editing, sound, music), Jim Gulley, and Jeanne Mooney.

This five-minute video commentary is a sample of what the Spirit has inspired us to create, a way for us to return to God all that we have been given.

Blessings,

Cathy

Labor Pains

This morning, before 9:00 Mass began at St. Joseph’s, a parishioner told me that he and his wife had been wondering why I hadn’t preached at Mass in a long time. When I explained that I would no longer be doing that he told me what a loss that was for him and his wife.

That really got me thinking. More accurately, it got my feeling. Recently, that “loss” has been real for me, too, and I have felt unable to put my thoughts together to reflect in any depth on Scripture or my own faith journey. My blog had gone dormant.

But in the space of an hour, this parishioner shared those kind thoughts; I got a sweet “happy half-birthday” text from my daughter Laura; I heard today’s readings again; I spent time with three adults seeking the Sacraments of Initiation; and I heard Fr. Jim’s Schwartz’ homily for a second time which brilliantly brings together the many facets of the parable of the sower and the seed.

In the light of those enriching events, one more line jumped out from the Scriptures that helped bring it all together for me. That is the line in the letter to the Romans, “We know that all creation is groaning in labor pains even until now…”

As a mother, I sometimes feel I don’t have the right to wear the badge of honor that comes with having been in labor. I had the easiest labor and deliveries ever. And we have been blessed with wonderful children who made parenting near effortless.

Yet, like all of creation, aren’t each of us individually still groaning in labor throughout our lives to give birth to our most authentic selves as children of God? Are we not always writhing with the pain of knowing we can do better? To mix metaphors, don’t we always know that our soil can do with a bit more cultivation?

And so on this my half-birthday (my sister Margaret began a tradition of celebrating half-birthdays with my daughters when they were born 17 months apart at opposite times of the year so they would have something to celebrate near the other one’s birthday) I reflect on recommitting myself to the labor and pain of finding new ways to share my reflections on the Gospel. I am deeply grateful for the kind nudge.

Blessings,

Cathy

Homeless

Last night a small group from St. Joseph’s had the opportunity to join St. Mary’s Church in Rochester on its monthly outreach to those currently living on our city streets. Anne, Mike, and Marie volunteered to join Katie and myself. Katie coordinates and directs this effort for St. Joe’s four times a year. Earlier in the day, other St. Joseph’s parishioners had shopped and prepared 35 lunches and organized toiletry bags with much sought-after socks.

In addition to a police escort, a physician, people from the Salvation Army, a representative of the Veterans Administration, a Medical Motor Service van and dedicated driver, there were several social workers from the county and various agencies as well as key players from St. Mary’s including Diane, Beverly and Deacon Dave.

The goals of the ministry are simple yet so complex: help people get off the street and get them connected with services that can provide meaningful support. More importantly, a goal is to bring the love and compassion of Jesus, even if just for a few moments.

All those encountered receive a meal and toiletries. People are offered a motel stay for the night and the opportunity to meet with a caseworker in the morning. Some people prefer to stay on the street because of their prior lack of success with the system or deep distrust or a myriad of other issues.

After gathering at St. Mary’s for last-minute instructions and prayer, we were off in caravan to several sites near I-490 overpasses. A few people got food for the night; one guy decided to take us up on the motel room.

Our final site was the Civic Center garage, ironically situated under the “hall of justice.” There is nothing just about a society that cannot find beds and homes for its most vulnerable citizens and veterans of war. The tendency of the homeless to bunk in the garage has been the subject of much debate in the City of Rochester. For now, it is a relatively safe haven, thanks to those who speak out on behalf of the voiceless. If not for the garage, where would they go?

On this balmy spring evening, the garage was surprisingly well occupied by homeless men and a few women. Our supply of lunches and toiletries was quickly depleted. The social workers went to work. By around 11PM, 13 men and one woman were in the van en route to a motel for the night; another one or two went off to the Salvation Army. All will receive bus passes in the morning and will be offered the opportunity for intensive case work.

The outing was amazingly uneventful. Good people doing good work. Good people living on the street as their last resort. Good people grateful for a helping hand. I especially enjoyed the gentleman who came outside from his motel room to inquire about getting to an appointment on time in the morning. As he went back inside he said, “God bless you all. Be safe.”

But for the grace of God … we can all find ourselves as the good people doing good work or good people grateful for a helping hand. Deacon Dave made the point that his downtown parish receives a shocking number of requests for financial assistance from people who live precariously in the suburbs, people who would not think to come to their local parish for assistance out of pride or the parish’s lack of resources dedicated to helping those in financial crisis.

In recent years, I have had the opportunity to be both the helper and the one receiving the support of good people in so many ways. It is so much easier to be the doer. But it is equally important to know how to ask for and receive help with grace. God created us as creatures dependent on both the love and mercy of God and the compassion of each other.

And so in the words of a wise man,

“God bless you all. Be safe.”

Cathy

Hope!

I had the unexpected pleasure today of introducing the speaker at the Pastoral Associate/Pastoral Ministers Association retreat for the Diocese of Rochester. The inspired speaker was my former professor of liturgical leadership and academic advisor, Dr. Ella Johnson, Assistant Professor of Systematic Theology at St. Bernard’s. “Hope! Sustaining and Renewing Life-Giving Ministry” was the topic and the presentation lived up to its title.

A point of reflection for me is Ella’s distinction between the virtue of hope and optimism. While optimism holds the expectation that something better will happen, the reality is that sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes optimism comes, then it goes. Hope, on the other hand, is the belief that whatever the situation, God is with us, leading us, sustaining us. Rather than looking forward with optimistic expectation of particular resolutions, hope allows us to live in the moment, confident that all of life is in God’s hands. “Hope believes God will make every circumstance better,” Ella shared.

Ministry, she said, is “hope in action.” To sustain ourselves for the challenging mission of God, a “Eucharistic spirituality is critical” for those working in the ministry of the Church. It “reveals who we are now and who we are called to be.” Quoting Pope Benedict XVI, “Eucharistic communion includes the reality both of being loved and of loving others in return.” The Eucharist brings us to a sacramental vision that grace is everywhere and all leads us to God. And above all, in ministry, we must recall the important words of Pope Francis, “no sourpusses!”

An expert in medieval women’s theology, an important theme of the day was that of St. Julian of Norwich that we must believe—in faith and in hope and in love—that with God, “All will be well.”

Blessings,

Cathy