Thickets

Thickets are the middle stage of nature’s marvelous development of a forest. From a clear and open space, seeds of grasses, weeds and wildflowers take root and create a meadow that soon fosters shrubs and small trees. Eventually, through a process of change that means the dying of some to make room for new growth, a forest is born. Miriam Webster defines thicket as “a dense growth of shrubbery or small trees” and “something resembling a thicket in density or impenetrability.” Sometimes, the heavy overgrowth of daily life can close us in, encroach on our spirit. Along that path there have been thickets, veils, barriers of all kinds. We see thickets with our eyes. But we feel the shrouded thickness of unseen veils with our hearts. Relationships can sometimes challenge us with an invisible thicket that blocks a clear path if we let it. I wrote the poem, “Thickets” when I was much younger and didn’t have the benefit of countless spiritual retreats and parish Bible studies.

Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  (Philippians 4:6-7, NRSVCE)

I’ve come from the carefree meadow of my youth and am winding my way through life’s thickets which led me to the words of Isaiah –

Thou dost keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusts in thee.  (Isaiah 26:3, NRSVCE)

The tangled journey is all part of a grand design, and with God, nothing is impenetrable or impossible when He resides in the “thick of it” – not even the unseen veils covering wounded people. In the loving care of our Creator, we can walk through anything. I choose to walk through the thickets with Him by my side.

…And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age. (Matthew 28:20, NRSVCE)

 

Thickets

(Thoughts on Renoir’s “On the Terrace”)

There is a curtain green-thick and tangled
that hides us from the blue of other sides.
.
There is a veil –fine, frail, colorless –
that keeps me from her pale-white touch.
.
I clasp a brown-warm basket and cast my gaze
into the empty space,
while she, unseeing
looks away to weary reds and yellows.
.
The green-thick and tangled curtain
that hides us from the blue of other sides
is easier to pass through
than the veil between us.

Except for the Lord.

Copyright 2022 by Paula Veloso Babadi

A Committed Heart

Kimberly Novak reflects on the commitment of Jesus made perfect without sin.

A committed heart finds a way, whereas an un-committed heart makes excuses.  This month we celebrate the Precious Blood of Jesus, an unblemished promise poured out to forgive sins. My relationship with God tells me that this is a commitment unlike anyone could ever imagine or pledge.  A gift that is guaranteed to those who commit their heart to God through the treasured love of Jesus.

As we arise each day, God sends blessings and graces through thoughts, circumstances, and longings, often leading to a choice or commitment.   It is easy to begin daily with the mindset to accomplish great things. Undoubtedly, this is short-lived when the day’s events cut down a motivated heart.

In my mind, a hopeful heart is a committed heart.  One that looks at the bright side of every circumstance, no matter what.  I like to consider that was the mindset of my Lord as He made the ultimate sacrifice. Jesus, perfect without sin, made a sacrificial commitment, all for the Glory of God. 

Committing involves dedicating or obligating yourself to something or someone.  It is a promise made to yourself, another, or our Heavenly Father. Recently, I’ve found myself in a group fitness challenge. I committed to 13 other individuals to do my best and accomplish the exercise goal each day.  This encouragement is often successful, as the benefit outweighs letting someone down.

There are many instances in life where we can apply this type of motivation, from diet, exercise, job focus, family, and our time spent with God. These examples are necessary for maintaining a positive balance in our lives.  Also, all of which require a committed heart. Jesus’ commitment to us was a great love, given freely and without hesitation.  How then might we strive to commit ourselves to the things God is calling us toward in this life?

We must consider commitment in the following ways.  Firstly, where does daily duty lie, and is God a part of that? The point is moot without God as the central purpose of what we allow ourselves to do daily.  When our responsibilities become overwhelming, following this rule of finding God in them will help simplify and remove an obligation not meant for us.

Secondly, where does daily un-commitment showup, and how can God help control those excuses? There are countless circumstances when it becomes easy to slack off, skip a day, or make a promise to do something later.  When it is hard to follow through, perhaps, reflecting on what excuses might look like to God will prove helpful.  

Soon, thoughts and reasons transform into nurturing a committed heart through consistent prayer and an ongoing relationship with God. Through the Holy Spirit, beauty takes hold as God reveals where to focus responsibility. Before we know it, decisions are in partnership with God, commitments are God-Centered, and every day is lived all in God’s Glory.  How wonderful that must look to our God in heaven!

Even Scraps, Received in Faith, Bring Healing

The woman was a Greek, a Syrophoenician by birth, and she begged him to drive the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, “Let the children be fed first. For it is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs.” She replied and said to him, “Lord, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s scraps.” Then he said to her, “For saying this, you may go. The demon has gone out of your daughter.” When the woman went home, she found the child lying in bed and the demon gone. ~ Mark 7:26-30

 

 

How many demons do we need Jesus to drive out? Do you struggle with insecurity, anxiety, uncertainty, maybe addiction, a difficult relationship, or financial crisis? How remarkable that even the smallest grace from Jesus, the scraps, has the power to transform our life.  Imagine the possible freedom awaiting us if we embraced even a tiny bit of the blessings Jesus has to offer us.  The gifts available from heaven are abundant, meaning we do not need to settle for the crumbs, yet if that were all we allowed ourselves to dine upon we’d still be filled.

Our lives would not be perfect or free from those things that worry, concern, or pain us, but there would be a sense of inner peace and hope that can only come from heaven.  The woman came to Jesus prepared to be persistent, humble, and assured.  Persistent in her begging; humble enough to address Him as Lord and take whatever scraps He offered; and surely she believed what He said was done because she left for home at His command. When was the last time I approached Jesus in that way—begging for some assistance, humbled by His majesty and glory, and yet completely sure that I would, in some way, receive a blessing? Confident in Jesus’ answer to my prayer, regardless of what I sought, accepting the scraps falling from the heavenly banquet?

So, what holds us back from being fed by Jesus? Feeling, perhaps, unworthy of even the crumbs from His table? How can the Syrophoenician woman’s example encourage us to approach Jesus for assistance in whatever demons we are trying to eradicate from our lives?

Jesus, I believe that you have so much more to offer me than I am ever able to accept. Lord, I thank you for calling me to your banquet, and whether I put myself at the table for the feast or at your feet for the crumbs, help me to be always assured I will never be without your blessing and grace.

Love Speaks

Kimberly Novak recreates a decisive moment when a single light conveys God’s voice. 

When I feel the cool morning breeze and gaze upon the dew-kissed grass glistening in the sun, Love speaks. As my body rests peacefully on an empty chair nestled in the meadow, Love speaks. The chair’s shape cradles me as I prayerfully accept God’s embrace. Turning toward the sun with eyes closed, I listen, and Love speaks. Colors change behind my rested eyes from red to yellow, signifying God’s enduring love and my euphoric happiness. Listening to the songs of birds nearby fills my soul, and Love speaks. As a brilliant pause takes over, I settle in and open my heart to the one who gave me breath, and God speaks.

 

 

Nothing declares love more than the Sacred Heart of Jesus—signifying the divine and human love that Jesus has for his Father and us. It also symbolizes Jesus’ ministry and the sacrifice he made. Many artists’ renderings and sculptures show us the genuine love and care Jesus has for all the world. The Sacred Heart speaks with a love that billows from both the divine and the humanity of Jesus. 

For the last few days, I have been on a small retreat at a place considered sacred ground. I’ve visited here on many occasions, all of which hold glorious moments of healing and transformation. It was on the first retreat that I arrived with my grandmother’s pocket-sized Sacred Heart of Jesus medallion. The theme for that retreat was love. During my stay, I scripted an enduring letter to God and placed it in the snow at the feet of the Sacred Heart Statue.  The gesture of that moment was both pivotal and healing. My life has changed in many ways since then, and I’ve often wondered if God had read my letter.

June is the month of the Sacred Heart, which brings to light the significance of what God allowed me to experience today. A large part of my retreats is allowing time for a prayerful walk. God has taken the time to create such beauty, and I must bask in it. Nestled among over 50 acres are wonders of nature, and the blessedness calls my name. Surrounding a brilliant open meadow, where the deer frolic and play, are trees as tall as the sky, with outstretched branches allowing light to shine through in just the right way. The landscape filled with God’s creations is dotted with benches in grottos and tear-stained places where those on retreat have prayed and wept. 

As the sun slowly descended from the sky and the hymn of the songbird was soft, I approached the statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I suddenly felt the urge to rest. A sense came over me that I was standing upon the threshold of a divine God-filled moment. Inhaling deeply, I fixed my gaze upwards when I saw a single light shining upon the heart of Jesus. The light encompassed only the left half of the heart and illuminated the flames surrounding that side. I reached my hand to my own heart, exhaling fully in God’s grace. In my heart of hearts, I knew this was God’s response to my letter written so long ago. 

As quickly as it appeared, it was gone, like the flicker of a candle as it’s extinguished.  My heart, however, was full of light and grateful for the outpouring of love God so graciously bestowed on me. The events of this moment and the immense beauty will forever live in my heart. As the retreat ends, I leave with serenity in my soul. I am certain letters from my heart and prayers kissed to the heavens will always be a form of worship. Life will challenge, tears may fall, and God’s Love will carry it all.  When God speaks, Love speaks.

Images Copyright Kimbery Novak 2022

Confessions of a Journal Writer

Journal writing entered my life when I received a pastel tie-dye-covered diary for my ninth birthday. The diary came with two dainty little keys, which I guarded with my life, though a sharp pair of shears could have gained anyone entry. That summer, I discovered my aptitude and affection for reflective writing. My first musings revolved around friendships, the unfair punishment imposed by my parents (however, to be fair, each was totally deserved), and I even took a whirl at penning poetry.

I still journal over 40 years later, albeit there is much less personal angst and much more spiritual contemplation. The joy of pen to paper, sorting through the full range of human emotion, connecting random thoughts, and wrestling with questions of theology—continue to bring great satisfaction and moments of remarkable clarity. While some people think out loud, I have learned that I think with a pen. My ideas come to a fuller understanding and bloom to maturity as I scrawl them out.

Muddled ideologies and bumpy spiritual awakenings are smoothed out as they are scratched out in red, purple, or green bold point across the smooth glistening writing surface. As my thoughts come fast and furious, my pen frantically toils to keep up, and there is no longer a need for a key to keep prying eyes from discovering my deepest thoughts. For it would require an expert in hieroglyphics as the words fly across the page, seemingly taking on a language of their own—my grandmother would call what remains chicken scratch.

Yet, I know I can return to these glorious pages and recall every word, every emotion. I decided long ago that the words I can no longer decipher or remember are simply not important or meant for anyone other than me. It is akin to those fleeting thoughts which float in and out of our consciousness, dismissed as inconsequential. The messages God wishes me to relay, I can attest, He repeats and reiterates through various situations and from myriad voices. In the end, I’m confident that what I publish for others to read not only comes from Him but always glorifies Him.

As time progresses, the purpose of my journals has evolved, less of capturing the memories of childhood and more of retaining the highlights of my journey of faith reversion. How the Catholic faith can be lived fully in everyday, ordinary moments of life, which I shared through my non-fiction writing. Between the pages of my collection of journals, one finds contemplation on the Scripture, catechesis on the tenets of the faith, mixed with my own struggle to believe, not lose faith, and cast-off doubts.

Spurred on to share because I’ve recognized, after years of conversations with others, that I am not the only person walking in the same wobbly steps, stumbling on these same rocks.

The journey is humbling, overwhelming, exciting at times, and heartbreaking at others. Yet, I know this is my call: to scribe the spiritual, spending endless hours in prayer, reading the scriptures, and participating in the sacraments. All to stay as close to Him as I can, and I’ll joyfully persist because it is on these pages I feel the closest to my God.

Copyright 2022 Allison Gingras

 

Cath-Lit Live: Meditations after Holy Communion by Fr. Edward Looney

“Cath-Lit Live!” features brief interviews with Catholic authors who are releasing new books. Hosted by Catholic author and speaker Amy J. Cattapan, “Cath-Lit Live!” gives viewers a glimpse into the latest Catholic books while getting to know a bit about the author as well.

Meditations after Holy Communion: Guided Meditations for Every Sunday and Other Holy Days by Fr. Edward Looney

In what promises to become a spiritual classic, Fr. Edward Looney’s Meditations after Holy Communion guides your prayers during those intimate moments with the Lord following Holy Communion, elevating your soul and mind and leading you into a deeper relationship with Christ.

Inspired by the work of Fr. Daniel Lord, S.J., Fr. Looney offers here a method of prayer that is sure to renew within you the practice of fruitful Eucharistic prayer. He will guide you through each Sunday of the year with meditations tied to the liturgical seasons, ensuring that you are aligned not only with Advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter, and Ordinary Time, but also with the universal Church, now and throughout the ages.

About the author:

Fr. Edward Looney is a priest of Green Bay, a radio personality, host of the podcast How They Love Mary, the Vice President of the Mariological Society of America, and author of several best-selling Catholic devotionals.

You can catch “Cath-Lit Live” three times a month live on A.J. Cattapan’s author Facebook page. Recorded versions of the show will also be available to watch later on her YouTube channel and Instagram.


Copyright 2021 Amy J. Cattapan

The Roman Canon (Eucharistic Prayer I) Take a peek inside the Love that is the Holy Trinity

I attended Christmas Day Mass at 8 a.m. in my church: Sacred Heart in Pinellas Park, Florida. We have a Mercedarian priest, Father Mike Donovan, who has been with us for several months and he was the celebrant. Father used the Roman Canon in this Mass. (Canon is the word used that refers to the fundamental part of the Mass that occurs after the Sanctus and before Communion.)

Before 1970, the only canon used during the Mass was the Roman Canon. Today’s standard missalettes carry six canons; Eucharistic Prayers I thru IV and two Eucharistic Prayers for Reconciliation. The altar missal used by the priest has nine: the ones mentioned and there are three for children’s Masses. It seems the one most commonly used today is Eucharistic Prayer II.

The Roman Canon (Eucharistic Prayer I) was put in place by St. Gregory I in the seventh century. It remains virtually unchanged to this day. However, since the new versions of the Eucharistic Prayers were included in the Novus Ordo Mass, it seems that Eucharistic Prayer I is rarely used. I do not know why this is, but the Roman Canon certainly has withstood the test of time.

In the Roman Canon, there is a rare beauty captured by the words written, and these words create visuals that can carry us to a different place. If you focus, listen, and read quietly along with the priest, you may actually get a tiny glimpse into heaven itself. Just let yourself feel the words grab you and transport you to a different realm.

When you “arrive” you may be able to peel back the veil and take a peek behind it. You might watch as the greatest love story ever told or imagined is taking place. It is the story of the perfect LOVE that exists within God and among the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit Who is God. This is about the most profound mystery of our faith and how this perfect LOVE is about to be shared with us. It is the greatest of gifts imaginable, and all of us who choose to accept it are about to receive it. But how does the Canon of the Mass take us there?

I have before me a copy of the Breaking Bread Missalette for 2018. I also have a copy of the St. Joseph Daily Missal from 1956. One is post-Vatican II; the other is pre-Vatican II.  The Roman Canon is the same in both. So let me share just one of the visuals I have mentioned. First, we should all be aware that all of the canons are directed to God the Father.

We believe that through the consecrated hands of the ordained priest, Jesus is going to sacrifice Himself to His Father for us. The Father will accept this Gift of His Son’s human life and return His Risen Son back to us in Holy Communion. This is the Great Mystery of our Faith.

I will only mention a few words from this magnificent seventh-century document that I believe capture it all. After the words of consecration are said, and the Body and Blood of Jesus are on the altar, we all recite the mystery of faith. Then the priest continues:

Therefore, O Lord [referring to the Father] as we celebrate the memorial of the blessed Passion, and the glorious Ascension into heaven of Christ, your Son, our Lord, WE, your servants and your holy people, offer to your glorious majesty from the gifts that you have given us, this pure victim, this holy victim, this spotless victim, the holy Bread of eternal life and the Chalice of everlasting salvation [emphasis mine].

We move down and read of Abel the just, the sacrifice of Abraham, and the offering of the priest, Melchizedek. So try to picture what happens next when God the Father hears our prayer:

In humble prayer we ask you, Almighty God; Command that these gifts be borne by the hands of your holy Angel to your altar on high in the sight of your divine majesty, so that all of us, who through this participation at the altar, receive the most holy Body and Blood of your Son, and may be filled with every grace and blessing …

(Through Christ our Lord. Amen).

As we watch the angel take our gifts up to heaven and then return them to us from our Father, we finish with the following words (how many of us really think about them) before the Communion Rite begins:

Through Him, and with Him, and in Him, O God, almighty Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all glory and honor is yours, for ever and ever. AMEN.

All the Eucharistic Prayers are beautiful, but I must admit I do love #1 the most.

©Larry Peterson 2019

Were we supposed to learn a specific lesson from Irma and Harvey?*

“Speak to Him often of your business, your plans, your troubles, your fears — of everything that concerns you.” — St. Alphonsus Liguori

Officially, the annual hurricane season begins June 1 and ends on November 30, and every year we Floridians receive our annual Hurricane Preparedness Newsletter

The fact is, most of us who live here are usually prepared and ready for these storms. We know the drill.

By the morning of September 10, Hurricane Irma’s journey was predicted to go from the Florida Keys up to the Florida Panhandle and points north. People the world over had been informed that Irma was the biggest, fiercest, mightiest hurricane in the history of the Atlantic Ocean.

I’d like to say millions of Floridians simply boarded up their houses and waited with élan, but truthfully, most everyone was afraid this time. I know I was. There is not one thing you can do about these storms except get into a secure facility or evacuate; otherwise you do NOT stand a chance. All the models suggested our area would take a direct hit from a Category 4 storm with sustained winds from 130 -156 mph, and that the flooding would be catastrophic.

Amid all the dire predictions, however, there is one thing print and broadcast media fail to mention, that Catholic media does: the powerful and important weapon of prayer that so many of us bring to these storms. For the millions of Americans who have faith, no matter their religious preference, prayer was a key weapon against Irma.

Here’s what happened in my parish, located in Pinellas Park, adjacent to the City of St. Petersburg. Bishop Gregory L. Parkes canceled all Masses for September 10, which was a Sunday. The only Mass available before the storm was projected to move in was the 4 p.m. Vigil Mass on Saturday. With the winds already starting up, the church was packed.

The Mass was quite beautiful. There was a sense of anxiety that filled the church prior to Mass, but once the liturgy began, you could feel it begin to evaporate. Father Anthony’s homily confronted the impending danger we all were facing and calmed us by inviting us to embrace the fact that Christ was, and always is, with us.

At the Mass’s end, he blessed boxes filled with tea candles, and each household took one. There was a sense of comfort and solidarity in the know that while sitting before the lit candle in your own home and praying, you were connected to all those other folks who also had the blessed tea candles in their homes. During the early morning hours of Monday, 9/11, Hurricane Irma became a Category 1 Hurricane and began moving away from Pinellas County. Aside from power outages, the damage was minimal.

I cannot explain nor do I understand why our area was spared. Much damage and destruction and death have occurred in other places — some communities have been upended — yet I know people were praying everywhere, not just in our parish. The Florida Keys, Miami, Jacksonville, Houston and many other places will be weeks and months putting themselves to rights, and in the Caribbean, entire islands must rebuild. It is a mystery and a humbling one. To paraphrase St. Paul, “Who can know the mind of God; who can tell him what to do?” (Romans 11:34).

All we can do is pray for strength, and then reach out to give aid where needed.

Maybe God lets us see and feel his presence in ways we sometimes do not understand. Maybe these storms are permitted to teach us something about how his handiwork requires our hands. Perhaps the brutality of some storms are meant as a relief from the vitriol, contempt, nastiness, and hatred that has consumed our society recently, and are meant to remind us who we are.

Read more: “Now you are his arms”: Our forgotten role in a ‘godforsaken’ world

We’re only halfway through the hurricane season. Is it possible that these storms, Irma and Harvey (and perhaps others down the line), are being permitted to make refugees of some of us, in order to instruct us about the reality of suffering and loss that refugees encounter, everywhere?

Could it be possible? “Who has known the mind of God …”

Perhaps we are meant to remember the lessons of Job, who said, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.”

Is it possible we actually needed these storms? Is it possible that one day people will believe that these storms were actually God’s gift to us? Has the Holy Spirit been helping us to see beyond all the divisive daily ranting — to see each other again as simply people, loved sinners all, who need to help one another?

I guess that is for each of us to decide for ourselves. I have decided.

Copyright 2017 Larry Peterson

*An edited version of this  article also appeared in Aleteia on Septemeber 19, 2017

“Ad Orientem”—the Symbolism is Truly Beautiful

“Ad Orientem”—the Symbolism is Truly Beautiful (by Larry Peterson; Catholic Writers Guild)

By Mariapanhagia (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Long ago, in a Church somewhat different, I was an altar boy (it was pre-Vatican II and we never used the term altar server.) It was a time when the Mass was said in Latin and the priest always faced ad orientem. (This actually means “toward the East” but, since so many churches do not have their altars facing east, it also refers to the priest offering the Holy Sacrifice with his back to the people.)

When offering Mass ad orientem the priest has no distractions that are facing him. The congregation behind him is, in effect, present at the Last Supper. The altar boy rings the bells to bring attention to this miraculous moment taking place before our very eyes. The people have just witnessed the most profound mystery of our faith and it all took place in only a few minutes. The reason for this symbolism is profound and beautiful. The sun rises in the East and we are coming out of the darkness to see the sun. The priest, who will stand in the shoes of Christ during the Consecration, is facing the newly-risen sun, ergo, God. At that moment, the priest, upon elevating the consecrated host toward the EAST, is actually Jesus saying to God, “This is MY body which will be given for you.” Then the consecrated wine is also elevated to the Father.

And there we kneel, the faithful, some watching and adoring the Body and Blood of Christ while many others are looking around, fidgeting, checking their watches, yawning, skimming through the church bulletin they should wait to read when they get home, not having a clue as to what is going on at the Mass they are attending. But that’s okay because at least they made it to Mass and are not home “sleeping in.” What has just happened is beyond description and the very answer to life itself. Yet it all presents to many as a grand paradox.

A friend of mine was injured in an accident years ago. He has a pronounced limp and uses a cane. Every week he comes to Sunday Mass and sits in the exact same seat. Every Sunday, without fail, he gets up at the beginning of the Consecration and slowly limps off to the bathroom. He always comes back after the wine is consecrated. He receives Holy Communion and, at a slightly accelerated pace, leaves Church before Communion is even finished being distributed. There are several others who, without fail, come every Sunday and miss the Consecration. They must not have a clue as to what is going on yet there they are, week after week.

Of course we all just had are influx of the C & E Catholics for Christmas. Although not “packed,” my church was definitely crowded. Interestingly, most every person at Mass received Holy Communion. Am I getting paradoxical yet? Is this why we have the phrase “cafeteria Catholics” in our 21st-century Catholic jargon?

Back in 1966, when Pope Benedict XVI was still Joseph Ratzinger, he said,

“Is it actually that important to see the priest in the face or is it not truly healing to think that he is also another Christian like all the others and that he is turning with them towards God and to say with everyone ‘Our Father’?”

Pope Benedict XVI showed his love of ad orientem 50 years ago. On October 12, 2016, (while meeting with Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople, Bartholomew I, he reiterated his preferences in a reflection letter published in L’osservatore Romano:

“In the liturgy’s orientation to the East, we see that Christians, together with the Lord, want to progress toward the salvation of creation in its entirety. Christ, the crucified and risen Lord, is at the same time also the “sun” that illumines the world. Faith is also always directed toward the totality of creation. Therefore, Patriarch Bartholomew fulfills an essential aspect of his priestly mission precisely with his commitment to creation.”

© 2017 Larry Peterson