Pondering Possibilities ... a prayer poem

Sometimes when we have it all
figured out,
with plans for this and that and the other,
God surprises us.
Stops us in our tracks,
with love,
hope,
promise, and
possibility.
God's love is wider than the widest sea.
Can we see that?
Can I see that?
The call comes, ready or not,
stopping us
in
our
tracks,
onto another
track, full of hope and the promise of
possibility found
in the wideness of God's love.

Enveloped in Bird Song

Normally I live on the south side of Chicago where I hear city noises outside my window: cars driving by, stereos, airplanes overhead, the train clanking on the nearby tracks, and the incessant noise of the car alarm in the middle of the night.

I spent a week on a silent retreat, meaning I was silent and didn't have anyone to talk to. But it was by no means silent. You see, I was enveloped in bird song. So many birds: cardinals, bluejays, orioles (yes, I know those birds because of the sports teams), some wood peckers and so many other beautiful winged creatures with names that remain a mystery to me.

I am not normally a bird aficionado, but this crowd caught my heart.  They also were the soundtrack for my prayers. And an inspiration. I'd like to share with you a poem that I wrote, called "Enveloped in Bird Song," and then share a video of morning prayer with the birds so you can enjoy the experience as well.  First the poem.

"Enveloped in Bird Song"
Morning coffee and prayer
enveloped in bird song, I read:

'Did your heart never fill with wordless
wonder when you heard a bird sing?' [Anthony DeMello, SJ]

Enveloped in bird song, I read:

'Let all the earth cry out to God
with joy! [Psalm 100]

Enveloped in bird song,

I sit,
eyes closed,
ears wide open,
heart softened.

So much joy.
So much wonder.
So much love.

Enveloped in bird song.
Enveloped in bird song.
Enveloped in bird song.
Amen.

And, here's a video for your own morning prayer with the birds!

The Power of a Name

While I am indeed a Catholic Sister, anyone who knows me well knows that I have an interesting relationship with the hierarchy of the Church.  I may quote Pope's from time to time from their social encyclicals to try to move people to action on behalf of people who are poor or marginalized or to mobilize for peace, but that's generally about it.

When folks have asked me my opinion about our new Pope Francis, I have joked that my Dad's name is Francis (Papa Francisco).  I have posted the photo of the then Cardinal Archbishop on the bus in Argentina on the blog and on Facebook as a hopeful sign that he is down to earth.  I've listened to some concerns and stories of his conservative stand on social issues and some impressive stories of solidarity with people on the margins.  For the most part, my reaction has been one of "wait and see" in a spirit of hopefulness rather than suspicion.

Then, this morning, I watched this video of the Pope explaining in his own casual and storytelling way what happened when he realized he was going to be elected by his brother Cardinals.  You can sense his trepidation and his humanness.  You can also, I believe, experience the presence of God in that moment through his story, in the support of a friend, a gentle reminder, a seed of inspiration.

True confession time .... I actually cried after watching this video.  Me, moved to tears by a Pope telling a story.  If you don't know me, you might not find that unbelievable given that I am a Catholic Sister after all.  If you do know me, you realize how weird that is.  Yet it is true.  Moved to tears by a simple man telling a a story to a few thousand reporters about how he got his name.

 

"Immediately with the thought of the poor, I thought of Francis of Assisi. I thought of wars, while the vote counting continued. Until the end of all the votes.  And Francis, the man of peace. That was how the name came into my heart, Francis of Assisi. And for me, the man of poverty, the man of peace, the man who loves and guards creation. At this time we have a relationship with creation that is not very good, right?  And the man who gives us this spirit of peace, the poor man. How would I like a church that is poor and for the poor." Pope Francis, March 16, 2013

Counting hairs and dark matter

In today's Gospel reading, Jesus tells us: "What I say to you in the darkness, speak in the light; what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops. And do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna. Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father's knowledge. Even all the hairs of your head are counted. So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." (Matthew 10)

I remember being more freaked out than comforted as a little girl when my religion teacher paraphrased the whole God knowing how many hairs are on my head thing. First thought as a cynical second grader: Really? Doesn't God have more important things to be worrying about? Second thought: what if I pull a hair out right now? I guess my spirituality has always been on the questioning/mischevious type.

The other day on Fresh Air on NPR I heard an interview with a film maker who happens to be an atheist, raised atheist in fact. He said something to the effect that he explores themes of faith and religion in films  because he is a little bit jealous of people who believe that the creator of the universe cares about them. He told a story about going to a Catholic wedding and understanding for the first time that these two people truly believed that God cared about them and was present in the church. He found that odd, but it helped him understand religious people better.

From my perspective now, with a faith that is still questioning but also grounded in my own deep experiences of God's presence and love in my life, there is more to it. Yes, God is present in the church. But God is present always. In some ways, when we seek God in sacred spaces we recognize that. We know God is always present, but we need to invite ourselves into that presence. Open ourselves to the presence and love of God. Share that experience with others. Ritualize and name the experience as Church, Temple, Mosque so that we can try to grasp the ungraspable. Faith is not so much about blind belief as about showing up. Maybe it was because God knew that about us that Jesus came ... "showing up" as it were to those with eyes to see and ears to hear. What did he do but share, name, ritualize and embody God's love?

When we  show up at church, it is as something small and finite in the midst of something so enormous it too cannot be known or understood. I read in the paper today that scientists estimate that regular matter, such as people and planets, make up 4% of the universe.  They think dark matter makes up another 25% and are burying a dark matter detector in South Dakota to try to learn more. The article did not mention what they think makes up the remaining 71%. Most likely because we have no idea.

Yet we try to grasp, measure, understand. Scientists do that with experiments. Similarly,  people of faith do that through prayer.

Back to the film maker.  I also remember him being amused that people think this God cares more about people than rocks or birds or trees. Again, I think it is more than that.  We have a tendency to personalize everything, even our experience of the universe or God. I suspect God cares about all of it, all of creation, something created from nothing ... it is all good. As far as we know, people are the only ones able to respond to the love that created everything. Of course we can also mess it up and have the power to destroy the world many times over.

Perhaps it is a good thing we don't understsnd it all. But again, I suspect God does. Even perhaps the dark matter, anti matter and whatever else is out there!

Those are my deep thoughts for this Saturday morning!