The Real Deal

The Gospel readings this Lent are shocking, or must be shocking to the most self-righteous Christians among us.  This weekend Jesus challenges onlookers who are trying to see if he's the real deal  by asking him to judge a sinful woman, "caught in the very act (yikes)" of committing adultery. He says "let the one among you without sin cast the first stone" and spoiler alert: He's the one among them without sin! But when He gets His chance, He doesn't condemn her, even though He's the only one qualified to do so.

Last week the father welcomes his sinful son much to the derision of his "good" son, the realer deal, who doesn't think his father is doing it right. The week before, Jesus showed us that God's love and judgment aren't  fair, which is a pretty good thing, because if God worked in our level of justice, we'd be done for.

In all three stories, the character that God steps in to save is a sinner (obviously, right?) but note this too: none of them said they were sorry. None of them apologized, none of them (the fig tree, the prodigal son, the woman) promised to change their ways. None of them earned or deserved or even outright asked for the grace and forgiveness given them.

Every week I see posts on Facebook from some of my "real deal" Christian friends that say things like "I am for supporting the poor, but not for supporting the lazy!" or "if I have to take a drug test for a job, you have to take one for welfare!" and I'm no theologian, but I can't help but see a clear parallel to these Gospel stories.

Maybe being a Christian means giving and giving and giving, even when it's not fair. Maybe it means forgiving, even when someone doesn't have the good manners enough to beg for it. Maybe it means helping and caring without judging someone's worthiness.

The theme that keeps coming through to me this Lent is mercy- unearned, undeserved, sometimes unbidden mercy that is, thank God, offered to us despite our un-real-deal stabs at Christian living. And if we're going to accept that grace, maybe we'd better be willing to give it, too.  

I Hear You and I See You.

The other night I was telling Scott about a frustrating situation I was in, and he looked me right in the eye and said "bummer."
I know, it sounds like nothing, but it's an old understanding we have. When we were engaged I was telling him something about a frustrating situation, and he tried to give me solutions, tried to solve it for me, and I said "Scott when I'm telling you my feelings, there are only three things you can say that will be helpful: 'hmm,' 'wow,' and 'bummer.'" I wanted to know he was hearing me, and that was all I needed. Not rescue, just... acknowledgement.
Last week when I was at the height of my laryngitis (does it get called that anymore? I had a cold and my voice was nearly gone, lots of croaking and squeaking instead), I visited a friend who said "it's really exhausting to talk like that, isn't it?" I felt weirdly affirmed- Yes! It is so exhausting! I was touched that she acknowledged that for me.
It reminds me of a homily I heard several years ago, in western MA when we were on a camping trip. The priest said "sometimes we spend all our energy justifying our existence." YES, so true. There is such power in acknowledging someone's feelings, their state, their existence. People want so badly to share their stories, to be heard. It's a large percentage of my job at the parish, just hearing people. At coffee and donuts, old men want to tell their war stories, their church stories. Married couples want to tell about their romances, kids want to talk about their days and ideas. Parents want to tell their fears and tough days and moments of hope. Everyone wants to be acknowledged.
On a tv show a while back we watched an older married couple use the tool they were given in marriage counseling. When one would say something to the other, their spouse would say "I hear you, and I see you." It was awkward and contrived, but it made the point, and now every once in a while we'll say it to each other, and weirdly, it works. 

Why buy the cow?

I met a dear friend and former colleague for lunch today and we were catching each other up on our parishes and lives. She was talking about her young adult children and how none of them are being married in the Church, but are having their babies baptized. It made me think about the conversations (or lack thereof) that we've been having with our parishioners lately. What brings these people back for their children's baptisms? Why do they still bother, even while the bother of the onerous process of being married in the Church isn't worth the trouble? The parents of teenagers who gathered with me last week said "this is what we need: for our kids to have a good church." But the parents of very young children didn't even show up. Twice.
My friend and I talked about what people need from the Church, and what might be our future- I told her I've been thinking about how the people I've heard from who have left the Church, for the majority, didn't leave over dogmatic issues, or even in anger against the Church (although of course many have left for these reasons)- they've left in good part because they just don't see the need to pray, pay and obey, when they can just talk to God on their own.
They seem to have a faith and value their relationships with God, and not feel like they need a middleman to connect them. I said to my friend "maybe when the Church started teaching in earnest about love, we put ourselves out of business." I was certainly raised to know that God is everywhere, God loves us, forgives us when we are sorry, wants us in heaven, never leaves us. What if the problem is that everyone believes that now?
Okay, what if that's true? Maybe the Church needs to re-envision our role in the salvation process from that of dealer to... what? I heard a speaker once say "it's okay to think of the Church as a filling station- " a place that fuels your journey, clears your vision, keeps you healthy and running. Is it okay for the Church to be resource, rather than sole source? After all, we all still need to have our tanks filled. It might be a revolutionizing thing for our Church to have to work hard to appeal to people, to draw people in and offer them programs that fill them, feed them, fuel them. What would the Church look like if no one felt they were duty-bound to attend? It might look a lot like it does now... with parishes who are doing a good job of ministering finding success, and parishes who are relying on compulsory attendance losing members at a steady drip. Only, in twenty years our 4:00 people will be gone- who will replace them if we don't start reaching out?

We're Listening... parents of teens

Last night we had our third Listening Session, this one with parents of Middle and High School students. It was a lovely, chatty group and they had some great things to say. Looking back on the night, I see that we (me, and the parents) went in to this conversation with agendas- neither of them bad, by any means- but telling.
The group was mostly women, and mostly people who have been involved in the parish for a while now. We had one new parent who has just joined the parish after difficulties in a neighboring parish with their confirmation program, and brought her daughter and five other families with her. I started by asking them how they ended up at our parish and why they stay. Some were lifers, some had ended up here after struggling at other parishes, and some came when their former parish had been closed.
I asked them then (and this is where those agendas revealed themselves), I asked about their faith, and what they need for their own faith from the church. To the last one, they answered by talking about what their kids needed. I tried re-directing them, pointing out that my question had been about their own faith and their answers were about their kids. They said "that IS what we need- we need our kids to have faith, to have a community, to have a safe place to come with questions. We need to be part of a place where we don't have to fight our kids to come to Mass."
I was surprised that their faith needs were so wrapped up in those of their kids, and they set me right. At the end, they identified a need for a support group for themselves (with wine), where they could come once a month to just talk and laugh and ask each other "WHAT AM I DOING WRONGGGG?" I've always wanted to have a group for parents of teens called "whine and wine" and they loved that idea... so we'll start that up in the next few months.

By the end of the evening my throat was on fire. It hurt to talk and I could hardly wait for everyone to leave! I headed straight home to bed and am home sick today (the day before Ash Wednesday, for crying out loud!) sweating and watching terrible daytime tv. I'm hoping that resting today will mean I'll be ready to roll tomorrow. Because away we gooooo!!!

Simple Woman's Day Book: Blizzard of 2013 Edition

Simple Woman's Day Book
FOR TODAY 2/9/13...

Outside My Window... it's still snowing and blowing, as it has been for over 24 hours now. We have over two feet of snow, lots more in some places and lots less in others, due to the blustering wind. Our plow guy has come (thanks, landlord!) but we went out to shovel out the cars and porch. It's fluffy snow, but I wouldn't call it "light"- in fact, the farther you dig, the denser it gets. I know my back will be sorry later.
I am thinking... about the way Facebook has changed everything, including the way we experience snowstorms now. We stayed fully connected throughout, posting pictures and seeing our friends' babies standing as height indicators in front of snow drifts. Everyone had pictures posted by the time I woke up this morning. I got a message from my childhood next-door-neighbor, checking in on us. I really like being a part of Facebook, even if I know I'm being manipulated by the media marketing machine.
I am thankful for... the fact that we have not lost power, and that we got all our groceries in before the storm started in earnest. I'm thankful to have Scott to wait out the storm with. I'm thankful to have a warm home and an electric blanket and snuggly kittens. Thankful that my family is okay and that no one has to go shovel out my parents' driveway.
From the kitchen... yesterday I gambled that the power would stay on and cooked an oven-stuffer-roaster chicken in the crock pot for 8 hours (just put half a stick of butter and an onion in there with it). In the end it was so luscious, moist and falling off the bone. I pulled out two cups of juice out and froze them for future use, and today I'll make chicken salad or something with it. OH yum. I also made coconut flour blueberry muffins, which were pretty good but definitely had a coconut meal kind of consistency, which if you like coconut, probably wouldn't be bad.
I am wearing... pajamas, natch. But for a while I was all geared up in lots of layers, mittens, hat, boots... you know, all you need. By the time we were done, I was sweating! Now I'm cozy and ready for a nap.
I am creating... hm, not much at the moment, outside of clear paths through the snow. Oh and a bad back.
I am going... to take a nap and keep pumping Aleve. We're not allowed, actually, to go anywhere, as there is a travel ban until 4:00 this afternoon.
I am reading... Still reading Forming Intentional Disciples, just finished SUM (you've gotta read it), sometimes I dip into I Wasn't Dead When I Wrote This, and the book my brother gave me I Am (oh shoot, I can't remember the girl's name... I'm having trouble getting into it but still plugging along)...
I am hoping... for another snow day tomorrow! I should be having cabin fever and getting anxious to get back to work but I do love a snow day. Well, let's just call it win-win either way. We were supposed to have GOF on Friday, and Scott and I were to run a retreat today. Tomorrow, GOF again. I guess we'll see!
I am hearing... snowblowers! I thought the other day that the sound of plows is one of my favorite sounds. They sound just like they did when I was a kid. It's the sound of FREEDOM my friends!!!
Around the house... the usual, snoozing cats. Good food, ready to eat.
One of my favorite things... Oh, I answered this already, didn't I?
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: Lent starts this week!! How is that possible? I've got some cool plans for Lent this year, and it's my favorite season. So many opportunities for ministry, for connections, for renewal. I think it's going to be a good one.
Here is picture thought I am sharing. Token snow shot!

Do You See What I See?

As an educator, one of my most embarrassing moments of failure is that, after trying twice, I could not teach my brother-in-law how to play the game Minesweeper. It's tricky, teaching Minesweeper, because playing it really involves a way of seeing in a particular way. I was trying to get him to see the numbers as the center of the squares, but he was focusing on the flags.

Teaching a new way of seeing is difficult, but I remember the teachers who were able to do that for me. English teachers like Mr. Anderson who would start on one topic and then magically guide us along until- WOAH! We are talking about semantics!! How did he DO that?? And my Psych professor in college, who taught us to read headlines and "stats" in advertising in such a new way that I've never been able to go back.

This reminds me of that old optical illusion... my Great Aunt Lucy had a cross-stitched version of this in her living room, and I remember one boring Saturday afternoon during one of our visits with her when I suddenly saw the word "JESUS" appear where I had once only been able to see blocks of black and white. I spent the rest of the visit watching the squares shift back and forth between the word and nonsense, fascinated.

I think religious education and Youth Ministry are all about teaching a way of seeing. Finding Christ, being aware of God's presence and love in our lives, cultivating thankfulness, living faith- none of these can be formed out of a textbook. 

Lent's A-Coming

I've got Lent fever this year! Lent can definitely be hit-or-miss with me, similar to New Year's Resolutions... especially since I started to study the Gospel of Mark... but you know, some years I really can knuckle down and do some good spiritual work. At the parish, I think Lent is like a lab, full of opportunities to develop programs, try out new things, see what works and what doesn't. Over the last few years we've seen a significant increase in people attending Ash Wednesday and other Lenten holy days and programs, and it seems to be a time when people are willing to do something for their own faith development and give church a shot. This year, in response to some of the things we've been hearing in our Listening Sessions, I'll be offering a Sunday Gospel Lectio group at two different times, targeted at two different groups, and we'll continue with our Friday night Soup and Stations (which is a surprisingly big hit!) and offering extra Reconciliation times (we take part in an Archdiocesan program that has all churches open one night a week offering confession, and we post greeters at the chapel to show people where to go and answer any questions they might have). Plus, I've stolen someone else's awesome idea and will be hosting/posting a Lenten Retweet! Ha! I love that!! My version is a >140 character comment on a reading of the day for each of the 40 days of Lent.
SO much to do, so much getting ready to get ready for.

We're Listening...

   We've started to hold a series of listening sessions for different populations/groups within our parish. We've offered, technically, three- to two different groups so far; young adults and parents of young children (age 0-5). We offered wine and cheese for the YA gathering, and had a good turnout: 10 church-going young people, who had great things to say. We offered the P-O-Y-C session twice, at 10AM and 7PM. No parents showed up to either session, except for one staff member, a ringer.
   So I have little to report about the POYC group, except guesses: I guess midday isn't going to attract parents (are there not a lot of stay-at-home parents in my parish?) and... maybe they don't have a lot to say to the Church, maybe they don't see the point, maybe they aren't looking for anything from the Church? I think we'll offer it again, just in case it was a PR thing, just in case there's someone who really wanted to come, but couldn't. But... we have recently been trying to drum up POYC to start a music class, and our leaders have really been struggling to get people to sign up with their young kids. Maybe we're seeing a lack of interest across the board for that group. I don't know... we'll keep plugging along.
   (As a side note, while I waited for no one to come to the evening session, I read some of the book that I've been carrying around with me lately, Forming Intentional Disciples by Sherry Weddell. It's fascinating, gasp-inducing reading. I'll have to write about it in another post, so much to say so much to say... anyone interested in joining me in reading it? We can do a book group right here, check in after every chapter...)
   The Young Adults were great- they had lots to say and some really brilliant insights. They talked about how challenging it is to stay Catholic in their lives, how critical their coworkers are about their involvement in church, their reticence to speak up about faith in public- and the questions that come their way every Ash Wednesday when they show up to work with ash on their foreheads. But they also talked about feeling a real willingness and need to go to Mass, that Mass anchors their weeks. They did not mention a sense of duty or obedience in attending Mass.
   They said that their peers who have left have gone nowhere else. They described their peers not as being angry or even disillusioned with the Church, but just not feeling a need for it. I got the feeling that young adults see their faith in a very similar way to how I see physical fitness. As if, like the gym, they know the Church there and it's an optional and probably good way of life that they're not theoretically opposed to, might get into someday (but then again, they could always walk around my neighborhood, no commitment and no expectations...) they might admire people who do it... religiously... but are probably never going to be one of those people.
Anyway...
   They pointed out that their peers might be attracted to being able to participate in short-term service opportunities. They mentioned that for a young adult who wants to try out living their faith, there's no entry-level volunteer activities available to them in the parish- most young adults who express an interest in volunteering are recruited to be Youth Ministry volunteers, and teaching faith may not be the first interest for someone in their 20's-30's.
   Homily-wise, about 20% of our small sample expressed a want for hot-button issues to be addressed, with clear Catholic teaching. The rest of the group, though, stressed that they did NOT want to hear these things in homilies- they wanted to hear about how to live a life of love and faith.
   We asked this group, who would have been pre-teens during the height of the sexual abuse scandal here, if their friends left because of that. They said their friends joked about it but were not distressed, back in the day... but that they remembered their parents being very upset.
   We asked the group what they thought the Church should know about them, and they didn't have a clear answer- but when I asked them what they think the Church thinks of them now, they said "they think we're just like our parents, that they don't have to reach out to us because eventually, we'll just come back." Wow.

YOUTH MINISTRY!

The other day, Scott said "I feel kind of... like I'm coming down with something... like, I have the chills?" Later that night he was fine, and that was the end of the story.
What I realize now is that I was witnessing the phenomenon of a cold germ bouncing off him, and onto me.
Which leads us to today- Scott is heading off to his retreat weekend (leading, not participating) and I am in my pajamas, draining the DVR and making droll Facebook updates about sitcoms, and blowing my nose.
I have been feeling doomed all winter, or at least since this flu bug hit. You know how they say "it's a recession when your neighbor loses his job, a depression when you lose yours"? Well it's a flu epidemic when someone you know lands in the hospital for 5 days because she can't breathe, and it's the FLU! That's what happened to a co-worker of ours, and she's still on oxygen. The FLU people!! So, although I usually do crazy things while Scott's away (oh you know, shopping sprees, carb-filled dinners, department store makeovers, sleepovers and pillowfights with girlfriends...), this time I'm staying put, snuggling kittens and applying lotion to the crust that has formed around my nostrils.
Oh... you're here to read about Youth Ministry? I did mention that Scott's on retreat, right? YOUTH MINISTRY!

Notes From Somewhere Else

Today, somehow, we got the day off. SO weird to be home on a Sunday, watching the Patriots like all the other people in the world. Sure, we probably would be watching, with the 6:30 start time, but we had all day to prepare! Weird.
We talked about what we wanted to do for Mass. Scott was in let's-just-do-this mode, happy to go to our neighborhood parish (we don't live near work), which would have been fine, but I wanted to do something wild and exotic. I suggested an early-ish morning Mass in a nearby city, followed by brunch. Brunch! People do that on Sunday, and they say it's awesome! But the early-ish morning was a non-starter (ha! literally! good one!) for Scott. He countered with an 11:30 at a country parish up the road. (I should give credit where credit's due, Scott got up wicked early and we had time to have breakfast before the fast, made it in plenty of time!)
I love to visit other churches for Mass, it's always a gamble. This one was a winna! Small parish, effervescent (but sincere) priest, who greeted us at the door when we came in. He had a voice and delivery that made me think, throughout the Mass, that he was about to say "let's get ready to RUMMMBLLLLLLLLLE!!!" (but he never did).
The music was nice (outside of some cheesy synth organ music), singable, and the cantor was great. There were lots of young people there, and we checked- they didn't have CCD right before or after. They all seemed to be there with their families. Such a good sign.
On a side note, the couple in front of us had 4 girls with them, and the youngest one came in MAD. She fake-cried into her sleeve for a full 30 minutes, and sat half off the end of the pew, to keep as much distance as possible between her and her family. I had to admire her dedication and stick-toitive-ness. By the end she was feeling better, but still holding an obvious grudge.
The homily was really nice- the pastor talked about the Wedding of Cana being the story where Mary is introduced as an intercessor, and talked about God's willingness to hear seemingly trivial requests. He invited us to pray for whatever we needed Mary's intercession for- actually gave us a minute to pray during the homily. How nice is that? Homilies are usually one-way communication, but he acknowledged our presence and invited us to take his word that Mary would intercede for us. He allowed for the possibility that the people there might have worries and things on our minds. It was really nice.
We left thinking how nice it would be to be part of this parish. It was definitely worth the trip!

RTG

   I seriously considered not telling anyone my new year's resolution this year, because... well...
Every year I do try to make a resolution, and as I may have blogged about in the past, I've gotten a good run out of some of them. One year I resolved to Be Brave, and that year contained one of my best summers ever, working on the maintenance crew at college- something I never would have done without that resolution.
   In more recent years, I've been more prayerful about my resolution and have been pretty hit-or-miss about following through. I vaguely remember something about a forty-two-nup (get it, tune up?), that I flagged completely. I don't even remember what last year's was, and I'm afraid to read back, to see how badly I did. I think I remember it was a word, rather than a resolution. Huh, now I'm curious... well, fortunately this year's res. isn't to avoid procrastination, so I can do it later.
   ANYHOOO again this year, I prayed for some direction, and got back bad news. It was that I should be RTG- ready to go.  Blah, just typing that makes me sad, but I know that the year ahead will probably give me lots of movement to get ready for. Maybe I'll need to get ready to go to a new parish, or (yikes) a new kind of job. Maybe we'll have to move for work. Maybe my parents will have to move again, which will take some getting ready, even though we're not the go-ers in that scenario.
   Soon after I'd resolved to resolve to be RTG, Scott mentioned that he thought we should find a new apartment. I panicked, and gave him all sorts of good reasons to stay put (not the least of which is how much I love this apartment and the very real possibility that we may be needing to move within the next year or two, for work.  I hate moving, and would really hate to move somewhere only to have to move again a year later). I felt like my bluff had been called. 
   So, I'm getting ready to get ready. I'm trying to be more willing to get up and go when opportunities arise, saying yes more, and trying not to be so wedded to my current location and life, as much as I adore it. I'd like to pare down some of the stuff I have, clean out and simplify. I think for Lent we'll go back to the "five things a day" rule of getting rid of things, for all 40 days (you know, except Sundays... ha!) and that'll help me feel readier to go.
   But all the time I'll be getting ready, I'll hope not to have to go.

Twenty-Or-Thirty-Something

   Tonight at our parish we begin a series of listening sessions- we're inviting specific groups from our parish population to come, have some wine and cheese, and tell us their opinions on the church, the Church, their lives, their faith, and what they want/need from us. We have been advertising on Facebook and by word of mouth, and are hoping someone will show up.

   This first gathering is for young adults... we asked for those between the ages of 21-35. The age range is tricky to identify, because age seems so relative nowadays. I thought about inviting up to 40-year-olds, but thought that the needs of a 21YO and a 40YO must be significantly different... right? We'll do another session for adults in their 40s and 50s. We've already scheduled sessions for parents of young children, parents of elementary-aged children, parents of middle and high school students. We want to hold sessions for divorced people, for those married in the last 10 years (I'm especially curious to hear from this group), senior citizens, and whoever else we can figure out to include.

    We want to hear from people about what they need. The sessions come in part out of a desire to  prepare for collaboration, due to begin in our parish a year from July, by knowing who we are as we start the process. What is our charism as a parish? What do we do well, and what should we be doing better? But also, we genuinely, always, want to do better- who should we be serving, that we're missing now? What do these groups wish that we knew about them?

    Meanwhile, I'm doing some research on these young adults, helped along nicely by  NPR's current series about young adult "nones"- who don't identify themselves with a religious denomination at all, but qualify and quantify their faith. These are the "spiritual, but not religious" folks we always seem to be hearing  about. The fact that this generation feels free to access God without the supplier of a church says something about who they are and what they believe to begin with. I still know so many older adults (my age and up) who consider the two to be a package deal- they don't believe in God because they don't believe in the Church. It's a big difference in viewpoints.

    Here's another interesting article about this "quarter-life-crisis" generation, and a review of books about twenty-somethings,  that I'll have in hand tonight as we gather with whoever is willing to show up. It's interesting stuff. 

Non-Whiny Varia: Cool Stuff

I suppose you've just about had enough of my moaning about the sorry state of the Church or what-will-become-of-me, so here are some cool things, to win you back over.

This guy is photographing suitcases left in the attic at an asylum in New York State. I can't remember where I learned about this project, but it led me to read (practically) this guy's entire blog. I like how interested he is in things, and love how he appreciates light.

The suitcases are fas-as-ascinating and I hope he does a ton more.

http://joncrispin.wordpress.com/2011/03/18/willard-asylum-suitcase/

This article's title grabbed me, because I am always shooting for success, you know me. But seriously, there's a part in here where one of the guys talks about not worrying about the future and I found it oddly inspiring. I guess I fail the psycopathy test. that's good, right?

http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=what-psychopaths-teach-us-about-how-to-succeed

With the new year comes new opportunities to exercise what little bit of self-discipline I can muster up, and cut out carbs (except for special occasions, when I'm eating out, when someone else is serving/buying, when I'm happy or sad, or when I don't have time to plan... ha!) Any, here's the gist of why eating this way is actually pretty easy and ever so enjoyable.

http://www.dietdoctor.com/lchf

Hey will someone please remind me the next time I need to name a pet to name it Brownie? I remembered the other day some story about Dad's family pets always being named Brownie, no matter what their color, and thought it would be a good tradition to carry on. I don't even know if I've got the story right... siblings? Our kittens have definitely grown into their names, and their names have evolved- we now call Katy "Katy Lou" and added a middle name for Charley- he's officially Charles Washington, named after my Dad. Neither of them answer to their names, or to anything at all, but we like the choices we've made.

 We live in an old house. It's full of old charming qualities and quirks, and one of them is drain issues. Last year the apartment upstairs had a leak between tenants, and our kitchen ceiling rained. It rained!! In our kitchen!! The plumber had to come and pulled two unidentifiable corpses (squirrels? skunks? ferrets? they kind of looked like ferrets, but they really were unidentifiable) from the pipes, and all was restored. BUT HOW DID THEY GET IN THERE? No one has been able to figure that out. THAT is what living in an old house is all about, my friends.

I bring this all up by way of telling you about our slow kitchen drains, which are somehow connected to our bathroom sink and bathtub drains. I know it's not supposed to be that way, but again... old house... every several months the drains start to slow, then stop, and THAT's when we pull out the CLR POWERRRR PLUMBERRRRR!!! It's seriously so cool that I have probably blogged about it before. It basically shoots compressed air through the pipes, blowing the clog out somewhere into the neighbor's yard.

Today, we were secretly excited that it was drain-blasting time again, and took our stations. Scott was the power plumber and I was to cover the other drain with a towel to keep the power from shooting out the wrong way. But it did just that- found a gap in my coverage and blasted a sink full of grubby water all over me, and down Scott's pants, and across the kitchen. It was awesome. The drain is clear, too, so win-win.

Look at this quote from a product review on Amazon:

"I got it and follow the instruction, few seconds later, it clear up. I could not believed my nightmare finally over just like that!"

That's pretty much how I feel. If you have quirky pipes (in your house) either get some of this, or call me to come over with mine. You'll be wowed.

What is the PLAN????

   I met with my pastor today to plan our parish council meeting. We're still a year off from joining the local Archdiocesan pastoral plan in practical terms, but we are anxious to get started at least envisioning the future.      
   I mentioned in a recent post that I am a girl who likes a plan. I'm starting to see what a defining characteristic that is for me. At this point as a parish, we have several possible futures before us, but we haven't been told clearly which one to head toward. In fact, the honest-if-taboo truth is that the closest thing we have to a plan is that we are being encouraged to work toward a future that might not be possible. I sat in front of my pastor today and said "I want to know what the goal really is! Even if it's not an ideal goal, at least we can get to work on moving toward that goal pastorally."
   But just because I want an assignment that I can get to work on, that doesn't mean I'll get one. We joked that I could just "live the lie" and move toward this outcome for now, until I hear differently. Okay.
   Meanwhile my mother is in a health crisis that goes from fast-to-slow, from progress to regression, from togetherness to not-with-it-ness. She is not following a tidy path toward either direction, and I find myself just wishing it were more black or white. White would be lovely but at least black would be something I could wrap my brain around and make a strategy for.
   Even as a kid, I remember coming home from school with a bad result and racing, rather than taking my time, toward my fate. I wanted to go ahead and know the outcome, rather than wonder how bad it might be.
It's a selfish attitude, I s'pose. I'm cool with things going to hell because at least once we get there I can start to work writing up a map of the place. I should be... hoping for the best? Well, if the best is the destination, then let's get to work in that direction. Just give me the plan!

Product Placement

   I listened to On The Media in the car this weekend, on my way home from wedding festivities. It was about the state of television. They reported, among other things, that people are not watching network TV.  Many people now either DVR the shows they want to see and ignore the rest (including the ads) or watch what they want to watch on Hulu or Netflix. They also talked about how watching TV used to be a social activity- friends watched together, family sat together in one room to watch.
   I can witness to all of this. My family watched TV together all my growing-up-years. We had to agree on a show, we shared favorites, and we had to be there on time to watch- we had to use the commercial breaks for snack-getting, for running to the bathroom. There was no pausing. We laughed together, talked about what we'd seen, shared inside jokes from our favorite shows. My parents saw what we were seeing, and kept us from seeing things they didn't approve of.
   Now, Scott and I often watch separate shows on separate TVs in separate rooms,  and although we sometimes talk about the shows we watch, it's not in real-time, not usually immediately following a show.
There are benefits to this new way of watching- we don't have to wait, don't have to miss any punchlines because we can pause, don't have to suffer through shows we're not interested in. We can go straight to the thing we want. It means TV is customized, on-demand, and not muddied by annoying ads. We don't have to choose between seeing our favorite shows and other activities.
   Of course, advertisers are not happy with this new arrangement. We the people don't feel the need to listen to the sales pitches, don't feel the need to share our experience with others, don't feel the need to be at a certain place at a certain time. Advertisers have lost control over the experience of television viewing. We are messing up their model.
   It made me think about this "spiritual but not religious" time we're living through as a church. Like TV viewers, many Christians don't feel the need to listen to the sales pitch that they might view Mass as. They don't see the benefit of praying in community (and full and conscious participation is being edged out of the picture slowly anyway, leaving the worshiper little to do but sit and watch). They don't want to be tied down to a certain time of the day or of the week to be in God's house when, after all, God's already at their house, now. Christians are more and more comfortable with a customized, on-demand relationship with God, and the Church is feeling the strain of having lost control over the experience of worshiping.

   Advertisers, among other things, are reverting back to an old technique- product placement. They're finding out where viewers' eyes are, and placing their product there. After all, people still like to watch shows. The ad agencies can't rely on the old techniques of blasting the volume and filling the spaces between shows with ads, and now they have to find new ways of getting their product and name out.
   What's the lesson for the Church? Is it time to see that we can no longer rely on people coming to fill our pews to be evangelized to? Is our goal to fill our Masses (thereby paying our bills, building community, continuing a tradition of communal worship) or to spread the Good News? Can we spread the Good News in more ways than Mass, and would that be okay? Is it okay not to look at other venues? If we just keep on keeping on, will we put ourselves out of business?

The Tipping Point

This Sunday, the 4th of Advent, we hear about Mary's visit to Elizabeth. You can learn about it here:



We read the upcoming Sunday's Gospel and pray on it every week, as a staff. This week I felt a twinge of recognition in this moment of recognition from Elizabeth, and I imagine, from Mary. This is the story of a tipping point- a moment in history that will change everything. It's a moment where a distinct line is drawn between "before" and "after." I imagine that Both Mary and Elizabeth, even if they can't imagine what their lives are to become, are feeling that uneasy/exciting feeling of knowing that after this exchange, everything will be different.
I can relate because as a parish we seem to be poised on that dividing line too. There's been some tension among us, which is unusual for us as a group. I think part of the tension is that we're on that line of knowing that things are about  to change, and we don't know how or when, but we are seeing an old age end and anticipating the beginning of a new one. I know that whatever happens, I'll look back fondly at this "before" time and miss these days of relative certainty.
The pastoral plan that faces us is something that's not yet fully realized, has never been done before, and could change at any point. We can't know who the pastor will be here at our parish, and therefore, we can't know if we'll be employed here in the future.
I am a gal who likes a plan. I like to end a meeting with a "to do" list, action items, a framework on which to build whatever needs building. Whenever poor Scott shares his goals for me, I inevitably bleat out "but HOW?" I like to know what we're shooting for, and I like to have things to do that help move the plan along.  At this point, though, I've got nothing. We can dimly see a possible future, but can't move toward it.
Well, in the meantime, we've got lots of stuff going on, and the parish is still a Spirit-filled, productive place, and I'm treasuring my time here. I have plenty to do, and I will just have to ignore the Great Unknown for now. Tonight our staff gathers for a Christmas celebration together, and it may be just what we need, a tiny break in the fever. But when I hear Mary and Elizabeth's story this Sunday, I'll nod to myself in recognition of the bring upon which these two faithful women stand.

heyyyyy just for the record...

... I believe in cooperation with grace. But I believe that a mature faith cooperates with grace out of love, not out of fear. Did I make that clear? Sometimes it's not till my drive home that I realize what I've been trying to say.

Follow Your String

I have a little brochure on my bulletin board (along with my "too bad it's raining" toon) titled "Hell Exists and We Might Go There." Below the title there's an illustration of Our Lady of Fatima "showing the three shepherd children the vision of hell." I have to admit, it makes me chuckle, every time I see it. Hell exists. We might go there. Don't go saying you never were told.
I know there's a sort of existential fight going on in the Church about how we should think about hell. As long as I can remember, I've heard opposing views on the damned place: hell exists, but it is empty. Hell exists, and it might be empty, for all we know. Hell is full of people!!! I've often heard it said that the reason the Church (and the world) is falling apart is that no one's afraid of going to hell anymore.
This week at a parish activity, one of our participants said that she is so thankful that we're still alive and can pray for our salvation- that we can pray for those in purgatory- that we still have a chance of heaven, unlike the poor people who suffer in hell, and the other poor people who suffer in purgatory. She mourned that so many people walk around every day not knowing that they should be praying to avoid hell... wasting time that could be spent trying to reverse their fortunes. She also said that it's just too bad for those people who didn't do something while they were alive, because those in purgatory can't help themselves, and those who are in hell, well, it's over for them. That door has been closed.
I felt the other members of our group stiffen at her words, her passion. This was a group of older people, pre-Vatican II people, raised on vivid images of hell. But each one who responded to our first commenter urged her to remember that Jesus spoke of mercy along with justice. (I feel quite sure she was unconvinced though...)
Maybe I've written about this here before, but it's been a defining image in my faith life and understanding of God, so I'll tell it again: at a prayer group with high school girls, the topic of and salvation came up. One of the girls said that her grandmother used to throw big birthday parties for the kids, where they'd arrive and be handed a piece of string, and they'd have to follow that string to the end, where a gift was attached. The string would lead them through every room of the house, up and down stairs, into corners and closets and out again.
Okay, but here's the clincher. She said that night that, she thought, if one of the kids at the party failed to find her gift by the end of the event, Grandma would say "SORRY KID! TIME'S UP!" She said her grandmother wanted each child to find that gift. She said she thought that God wants us to have salvation so much that God will find a way to give it to us, even if we run out of time, even if we mess up and tie our string up in knots.
I had to agree with her. What kind of God would set a time limit on salvation? This, then, is the faith-and-good-works problem: do we earn salvation, receive it by grace, or do we have to cooperate in some way, once the grace is given, to keep it? It's an eternal question, and the Catholic Church has an answer- can you guess what it is?
I read recently that free will makes no sense if there's no hell. I forget where I was reading it, but basically, the author said that if God saved everyone for no good reason, that would make his grace "cheap." I know that's a common understanding. But I think... that kind of thinking is like saying that marriage doesn't make sense if there's no divorce (or... matricide?). I know it's not a perfect analogy- (for instance, I'm talking about a good marriage here, one built on love) but I also know that I work hard in my marriage not because I'm afraid of being divorced, but because I love my husband. I think it's possible that love could be a good enough reason for salvation, and that it would not cheapen grace. This is a harder concept to teach than hell and damnation, but I think it's what Jesus stood for.
I guess I'm gambling my salvation on this, but it's a bet I'm comfortable wagering.

Welcome to the CAPE

     Many years ago, at a Youth Ministry conference, I heard a speaker (it might have been Tom Booth?) talk about the day his son fell off a dock into the lake. He said that when he saw his child in trouble, heard him cry out to his father for help, he had never felt love like that before.
     That story moved me because I know that so many of us are reluctant to turn to God when we're really low, when we're struggling, when we're drowning in stress and anxiety. But God wants to hear from us then- when we cry out to God in distress, we can imagine that like the drowning boy's father, God will be moved with immense love to come to us.
     I had a friend who had been away from church for a while, and as Easter approached, I asked if she'd be going to church to celebrate. She said "no, after being away for so long it seems wrong to go suddenly on Sunday." I thought that was a funny thing. Even when I've not heard from a friend in forever, I'm so touched to get a greeting from them on my birthday. I don't think "sheesh, all this distance, and now they want to celebrate me? Whatever!!" I can't imagine that God is ever sorry to hear from us, whatever the occasion.
     I've heard, too, that parishes need to be more like AA meetings. When an alcoholic comes to a meeting, no matter how long it's been, they're welcomed- no "where have you been? Why haven't you been coming? What have you been doing instead of coming to meetings?" Their fellow group members know that it's a good thing whenever someone comes to a meeting. The important thing isn't why they've been away, but that they're there- and that by being there, they might be saved from a life of suffering with addiction.
     This Christmas we can rest assured that there will be people among us who haven't been to Mass in some time- maybe since last Christmas- and we have an opportunity to love like God loves. We must welcome the sufferer, the guilty, the distant. We must show everyone that God is glad to see them, no matter why they've been away, and no matter why they've come back.

Your Parish Is The Curriculum

    During the last round of parish closings here in our Archdiocese, I was asked by a religious ed. director to come and help her plan for the year ahead. One year from that time, 3 of the town's parishes would be closed down, and all would be joining together at the 4th (where she worked). She would be incorporating 3 additional parishes-worth of faith formation kids (just kids, no lifelong catechesis there at the time) into her one program. She was worried about how she'd integrate the four parish groups together, how to make the new kids feel welcome.
     After talking for a while, this was my suggestion: Throw the next year's religious education calendar out the window, and instead, hold 4 large group gatherings. Each parish's young people would meet individually and plan an evening, where they would host the other 3 groups at their soon-to-be-shuttered church, make and serve dinner to their guests (maybe something that reflected their parish's Italian heritage, for instance), give them a tour of their church, tell stories about the history of their parish, talk about their patron.
     The fourth gathering would be at the new "home" parish. The kids from that parish would do the same thing. After their dinner/tour/presentation, a welcoming ceremony might be celebrated, combining favorite songs or rituals from each of the parishes. Maybe everyone would get a t-shirt with a new parish logo on it. By the end of the year, each child would know more about their own "heritage" and about their new parish, they would have met the kids from the other parishes, and would feel some ownership over the process.
      The DRE couldn't do it. She couldn't throw out her curriculum for the coming year. How would the kids learn about the Creed? About the Old Testament? About whatever was on their list of topics? Ultimately, I heard that she just went ahead and did her usual thing, wrote up class lists and recruited classroom teachers, and soldiered on, hoping for the best. I'm sure the parish made efforts to welcome the new families, but I've always felt like it was a missed opportunity.
      When we welcome new people into our community, it can't be seen as a process of swallowing everyone whole, washing away their history and immersing them into "our" culture. Integration can't deny the existence of a history, of a loyalty to community, to pain in losing a church building (even though it's "just a building," something that was said over and over during that time of painful change and loss). People don't come into a parish community as a white page, waiting to be colored in.
     Many years ago (before all that consolidation even began), I read with fascination an article in "Today's Parish Minister" (I think... I wish I could find that issue!) called "Your Parish IS The Curriculum" which talked about the deposit of faith that exists within the community, in its rituals, its traditions, its memory, its actions. Before it was cool, TPM said that there was plenty of fodder for faith formation right in our parishes. Leaving the textbooks unopened for a year wouldn't necessarily mean that people weren't being formed.
     I can't help but mention that lifelong faith formation allows us to be freer than this DRE must have felt. Since we intend (and believe it will happen!) to be forming our people in faith throughout their entire life, and not just until they turn 16, we can forgive ourselves for not hitting every point of faith on a time-sensitive schedule. Kids have their whole lives to learn the creed, the Old Testament, etc. We can address real-life, real-world concerns catechetically, we can focus on evangelization and know that people will "get it" in one way or another.
     Curriculum is not the Gospel.