Your faith journey,
Pastor Don Margarita told a full house at this week's Community Lenten lunchtime service, will probably feel nothing like the smooth traveling you can sometimes find along I-85 (when you're not in a rush-hour crunch).
No, a real faith journey is a Bette Davis special - "Hang on, it's going to be a bumpy ride," - potholes, narrow lanes, hairpin turns and roadblocks of every description.
To learn how to be a disciple, it's really necessary that you develop discipline and keep working to refine it each mile along the way. Often painful steps and slow.
Webster calls discipline "training that develops self-control."
A more precise meaning for someone on the faith journey might be "training that develops God-control."
Margarita said discipline helps you reassess the meaning of faith. Spiritual growth takes place painfully and slowly and requires self-denial.
What does that mean?
How about this - what is in your life now that you could/would/should set aside just to have the time and focus to get to know God better?
That goal is at the top of my list in making better use of my time and shedding my cloak of procrastination.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
Quality not quantity
I've often struggled with the question of my need vs. others' needs.
I know the intimate details of jump-starting a car downhill, heating water for a child's bath on a electric stove because the gas got cut off and stretching my cooking creativity to the limit when the cupboard looked bare.
Many moons ago, most of these difficulties, yet still vivid in my mind.
Over the years, I've fared better, but as we all do, still face hard times in one way or another. Some days, I start to feel really "needy."
But being in need of one sort or another does not mean that you have nothing to give others.
You accept the hand, the help, the love and prayers offered for you, and you give the hand, the help, the love and prayers to others at the same time.
Balance, that's what life needs, and you're capable of achieving it.
And when God looks at your gift, whatever it is, he's looking for quality and sacrifice. That's what alms-giving is about for me.
I know the intimate details of jump-starting a car downhill, heating water for a child's bath on a electric stove because the gas got cut off and stretching my cooking creativity to the limit when the cupboard looked bare.
Many moons ago, most of these difficulties, yet still vivid in my mind.
Over the years, I've fared better, but as we all do, still face hard times in one way or another. Some days, I start to feel really "needy."
But being in need of one sort or another does not mean that you have nothing to give others.
You accept the hand, the help, the love and prayers offered for you, and you give the hand, the help, the love and prayers to others at the same time.
Balance, that's what life needs, and you're capable of achieving it.
And when God looks at your gift, whatever it is, he's looking for quality and sacrifice. That's what alms-giving is about for me.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Alms - the gift of yourself
I share today the words of Henri Nouwen:
Consolation is a beautiful word. It means "to be" (con-) "with the lonely one" (solus). To offer consolation is one of the most important ways to care. Life is so full of pain, sadness, and loneliness that we often wonder what we can do to alleviate the immense suffering we see.
We can and must offer consolation. We can and must console the mother who lost her child, the young person with AIDS, the family whose house burned down, the soldier who was wounded, the teenager who contemplates suicide, the old man who wonders why he should stay alive.
To console does not mean to take away the pain but rather to be there and say, "You are not alone, I am with you. Together we can carry the burden. Don't be afraid. I am here."
That is consolation. We all need to give it as well as to receive it.
Nouwen's words give shape to my feelings.
And they again demonstrate that "almsgiving" is not about money - but does lend itself to discussion of a financial concept. That concept is investment.
Don't have $$$ to invest in helping someone else? Look to what you do have:
A little time
A shoulder
An ear
Arms to reach around someone
Pen and paper to send a note
or just a smile - a simple act for you could be an incredible gift to another.
Consolation is a beautiful word. It means "to be" (con-) "with the lonely one" (solus). To offer consolation is one of the most important ways to care. Life is so full of pain, sadness, and loneliness that we often wonder what we can do to alleviate the immense suffering we see.
We can and must offer consolation. We can and must console the mother who lost her child, the young person with AIDS, the family whose house burned down, the soldier who was wounded, the teenager who contemplates suicide, the old man who wonders why he should stay alive.
To console does not mean to take away the pain but rather to be there and say, "You are not alone, I am with you. Together we can carry the burden. Don't be afraid. I am here."
That is consolation. We all need to give it as well as to receive it.
Nouwen's words give shape to my feelings.
And they again demonstrate that "almsgiving" is not about money - but does lend itself to discussion of a financial concept. That concept is investment.
Don't have $$$ to invest in helping someone else? Look to what you do have:
A little time
A shoulder
An ear
Arms to reach around someone
Pen and paper to send a note
or just a smile - a simple act for you could be an incredible gift to another.
Friday, February 8, 2008
40 days of baring my soul
People who observe Lent are supposed to use the time between Ash Wednesday and Easter to look at themselves hard and to acknowledge their weaknesses, failures and sins.
Looking's not so bad. Most of know who we are and who we aren't. Most can recite easily our sins of commission and of omission.
Procrastination - putting things off - lurks constantly near the top of my list, even leers at me from the bathroom mirror.
But then comes the next step - acknowledging those sins and faults - first to yourself and then to God.
And the hardest step of all - change.
My Lenten goal is to grow my respect for other people's time, which means I should be on time - or heavenly surprise, early - when I've committed to doing something or being somewhere.
How do you start hitting God's mark for your life - his bull's eye, as Father Michael Kottar from St. Mary's Catholic Church phrased it at the Community Ash Wednesday service this week.
Sin equals missing the mark.
How do you change that?
Through prayer, which Kottar admitted is hard work. Your conversations with God require faith and honesty - not that God doesn't know all about you anyway, but he needs YOU to be able to see what he sees.
Through penance or mortification - a formal word with a simple meaning: Die to the things that tie you to this world.
Kottar says "detach ourselves from our own likes and dislikes, to please God. This is a powerful reminder that we are here to give the glory to God, not ourselves.
Through almsgiving: This is not just giving money to the church or dropping coins in the Poor Box. It's more about giving yourself, about helping others in need, with money, if that's the need and you have it, but also with time - an ear or a shoulder - and compassion.
Lent begins with a service when worshipers are marked with a cross of ashes, which may seem morbid or sad.
But it's true nature, Kottar says, brings joy and hope that the grace of God is with us. The ashes represent who we are without God - dust to dust. But ashes are not our future when we commit our lives to God.
By commiting to pray about my time, die to my selfishness with the hours I'm given, and share my alms with those in need who cross my path, I'll be reaching for that joy and hope.
What are you hoping for in your spiritual walk?
Looking's not so bad. Most of know who we are and who we aren't. Most can recite easily our sins of commission and of omission.
Procrastination - putting things off - lurks constantly near the top of my list, even leers at me from the bathroom mirror.
But then comes the next step - acknowledging those sins and faults - first to yourself and then to God.
And the hardest step of all - change.
My Lenten goal is to grow my respect for other people's time, which means I should be on time - or heavenly surprise, early - when I've committed to doing something or being somewhere.
How do you start hitting God's mark for your life - his bull's eye, as Father Michael Kottar from St. Mary's Catholic Church phrased it at the Community Ash Wednesday service this week.
Sin equals missing the mark.
How do you change that?
Through prayer, which Kottar admitted is hard work. Your conversations with God require faith and honesty - not that God doesn't know all about you anyway, but he needs YOU to be able to see what he sees.
Through penance or mortification - a formal word with a simple meaning: Die to the things that tie you to this world.
Kottar says "detach ourselves from our own likes and dislikes, to please God. This is a powerful reminder that we are here to give the glory to God, not ourselves.
Through almsgiving: This is not just giving money to the church or dropping coins in the Poor Box. It's more about giving yourself, about helping others in need, with money, if that's the need and you have it, but also with time - an ear or a shoulder - and compassion.
Lent begins with a service when worshipers are marked with a cross of ashes, which may seem morbid or sad.
But it's true nature, Kottar says, brings joy and hope that the grace of God is with us. The ashes represent who we are without God - dust to dust. But ashes are not our future when we commit our lives to God.
By commiting to pray about my time, die to my selfishness with the hours I'm given, and share my alms with those in need who cross my path, I'll be reaching for that joy and hope.
What are you hoping for in your spiritual walk?
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Lent and the Scarlett O'Hara syndrome
The first thing I committed to giving up for Lent is procrastination.
Well, it's the day AFTER Ash Wednesday and I'd planned to start this blog yesterday.
Let's hope my next 39 days are more fruitful.
Hope - now there's a word that can be interpreted a couple of ways.
I hope it snows.
I hope we get pizza for lunch.
I hope I can keep up with this schedule.
Those are wishes with little substance to propel them.
My hope is in God.
Now that is something I can count on, because God is someone I can count on. I believe that hope as it relates to God is a certainty, a promise.
Hope through God means that snow or not, I can have joy in each day God creates.
Whether lunch is pizza, pinto beans or nothing, I still have food for my soul.
And hope means that when I lean on God's power instead of my own, I'll be able to fulfill my commitments far beyond my meager expectations.
Procrastination used to be one of my father's favorite words. I guess he used it so much because I've always been a master - much like our beloved Scarlett - at putting things off.
"I'll think about that tomorrow," or next week, or next month, or never.
That is not really how I've wanted to be, but when you tend to make mountains out of ant hills...
I make strides from time to time, but my personal goal is to eliminate the habit.
If you will, watch this space from now to Easter, check back with me often and hold me accountable.
Well, it's the day AFTER Ash Wednesday and I'd planned to start this blog yesterday.
Let's hope my next 39 days are more fruitful.
Hope - now there's a word that can be interpreted a couple of ways.
I hope it snows.
I hope we get pizza for lunch.
I hope I can keep up with this schedule.
Those are wishes with little substance to propel them.
My hope is in God.
Now that is something I can count on, because God is someone I can count on. I believe that hope as it relates to God is a certainty, a promise.
Hope through God means that snow or not, I can have joy in each day God creates.
Whether lunch is pizza, pinto beans or nothing, I still have food for my soul.
And hope means that when I lean on God's power instead of my own, I'll be able to fulfill my commitments far beyond my meager expectations.
Procrastination used to be one of my father's favorite words. I guess he used it so much because I've always been a master - much like our beloved Scarlett - at putting things off.
"I'll think about that tomorrow," or next week, or next month, or never.
That is not really how I've wanted to be, but when you tend to make mountains out of ant hills...
I make strides from time to time, but my personal goal is to eliminate the habit.
If you will, watch this space from now to Easter, check back with me often and hold me accountable.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
