World Youth Wednesday

The best words for this Wednesday.
And to quote my eldest, "Awesome!"

En garde!

Happy Feast of the Guardian Angels!

" The Lord has put angels in charge of you, to guard you in all your ways." Ps 91

Praying for Bishop

Today is a day of much import:
It's the anniversary of 9/11, of course.
It's Ethiopian New Year: Melkem Addis Amet!
It's game day for the Irish.

Most of all however, for us here in the coffeehouse, today is a day of prayer for our dear Bishop who is recovering from heart surgery.
He needs our prayers and I ask, if you have a moment and the inclination, to pray for this holy and dear good man.
He is one of the good guys.
He is my spiritual father.....our family's spiritual father and we love him.
Please pray for the swift and full recovery of our Bishop, David Choby.

Praying for Bishop.......

Holy Cake!

It's the feast of the Nativity of Mary! 

Today is the day we celebrate and remember the nativity of our Blessed Mother, Mary. The birth of the Theotokos, Mother of God. I know some have questions or issues with this whole concept...but I am all about loving our Blessed Mother, and all about celebrating birthdays, so I can run with it! Go here for a quick bit on it as well.

I am so grateful for her and for her birthday that we will celebrate with flowers for her and maybe even a yummy dessert....Because living the liturgical year is fun and cool and gives much needed texture, rhythm, and depth to the warp and woof of our lives.

And here is a lovely prayer for the day:  from the Liturgy of the Hours: 

Father of Mercy, give your people help and strength from heaven.
The birth of the Virgin Mary's son
was the dawn of our salvation.
May this celebration of her birthday
bring us closer to lasting peace.
Grant this through Our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, forever and ever. Amen.

-- the Liturgy of the Hours

Birth of Virgin Mary to St. Anne in Santa Maria Novella, Florence.  By Domenico Ghirlandio


So, this is a bit rambly...but well, think of your Mother today...your Blessed Mother and maybe say a prayer of thanksgiving for her. Because like all of us moms, she loves us even when we don't love her nearly well enough back....and, yes, in case you're wondering, we will have cake!

Happy Birthday Mary!

"Nativitas tua genitrix virgo gaudium annunziavit universo mundo"

(Thy birth, O Virgin and Mother of God, brings joy to all the world).

It's never too late: Augustine

Its the feast day of St. Augustine!
Ok, now this saint, from north Africa, {born in Tagaste, in Africa, in 354} is one of the biggies: a doctor of the church of course and one of the great writers throughout Church history. I like him for so many reasons, not the least of which is his connection with his mom and her devoted prayers for her son. You know, I will always have a soft spot for a mom and son....

His teachings are noted throughout Christendom for their lasting influence and, simply put, their beauty. Perhaps it was his years of living a life that was wild, utterly hedonistic, and dipped into all sorts of heresy and convoluted ideas of god.....but when he returned to the Faith, he did so in a big way, using his brilliant mind to convey the beauty of Truth to generations to come.

Indeed, this is the antiphon from evening prayer tonight:

"Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, 

late have I loved you.  

You called, you shouted and you shattered my deafness."

"Late have I loved you..." Indeed. And perhaps, that is part of his appeal to so many, so many of us (ok, me), have really felt that, lived that. Late, have I loved You. I missed so much, for so long. The "band width" of my life was so slim, and I didn't even know it. But I was fooled by the hedonistic life I lived into thinking it was so wide. I was arrogant enough to think I knew it all. Only, later, later when I finally "let go" of my grip on that did I finally come to realize how small it all was.

And then St. Augustine, once more, came through for me with one of his most famous prayers:

"You have made us for yourself, oh God. 

And our hearts are restless, until they rest in you." 

Ah. I know, I'm paraphrasing that quote, but that's how it sticks in my head and heart. And that about sums it all up: St. Augustine, life in general, me in particular.

So, it's really never too late to wake up to love.  

Thank goodness!

Happy feast day!
St. Augustine, pray for us!

{Again, a melded post...last year, busy time now, but new prayers and comments.}

Mom Feast

Feast of St. Monica

Painting of St. Monica, by John Nava

Today is the feast of St. Monica!
It's a special feast day for us moms, because she is a special patron of mothers...especially the moms who have persevere in prayer and try to convert their worries and fretting and even fears for their kids into something more productive: prayer.
Here is one of the premier examples of patience, especially for us moms.
Really, I should unofficially consider her a patron, because here is a mom who showed such patience and perseverance in prayer...and these are some of the traits (especially that whole patience thing) that I severely lack.

Painting of St. Monica, by Janet McKenzie

St. Monica, a saint from north Africa, prayed for the conversion (successfully) of her husband and his mother. But, most famously, she prayed and prayed faithfully for the conversion of her wild, wayward son, Augustine.

Augustine was a son that would give any mom many sleepless nights and teary phone calls with girlfriends. And while Monica wasn't of the phone call era, I suspect she had many a night awake fretting over her boy. He was wild and ignored her pleas, getting into all sorts of revelry; ok, even trouble...the kind of trouble we moms go gray over (can read more about him tomorrow on his feast day!).

But Monica persevered, because this was her son, she knew the truth and she had the faith that her prayers would be answered according to God's will....sooner or later. Well, it was something like 17 years later, but it happened. Not only did Augustine turn his life around and step back onto more solid ground, but he converted to the faith and was ordained by St. Ambrose himself.

I like to think it is in no small part due to the faithful lasting sure prayers of his mom, as well as her prayerful example and steadfast love, no matter what. She didn't shun him. She might well have corrected him, being his mom and all (whether or not he listened)..... {I know this is an old holy card image, but it makes me laugh.
It's St. Monica praying for St. Augustine,
but that's the same look my boys have when I'm giving them advice...
which is surely also a scene from the life of these two!}

....but she never stopped loving him. And that is what will turn even the hardest furthest of hearts back to the truth of Real Love. So I love St Monica, and she reminds me to never give up. Ever. We mom's can't give up...it's one of the things that keeps the world spinning correctly on it's axis.  I know it.

Antiphon from today's morning prayer:

"You answered her prayer, O Lord, you did not disregard her tears 

which fell upon the earth wherever she prayed."

Happy feast day, moms.
St. Monica, pray for us!

{Much of this reposted, not all, from last  year...it's a busy time, but this feast day is not to be missed}.

Assumptions on the Assumption

Mary's house in Ephesus, where she is believed to have lived out her days.

It's the feast of the Assumption of Mary!

I know, another uber Catholic post and event. Still, fascinating and cool for us and if you want to know more, go read here. I love this one!

It's also a big Ethiopian Feast: Ethiopian Orthodox celebrate this feast in a big way and it is called "Filsata Mariam" - and Marta grinned with excitement when told what today is. So it's a big deal even in the the other ancient Christian faith traditions.

That said, however, this is one of those Marian Catholic things that makes some folks a bit nuts. But really, it all makes sense. It is traced back to the apostles themselves:

At the Council of Chalcedon in 451, when bishops from throughout the Mediterranean world gathered in Constantinople, Emperor Marcian asked the Patriarch of Jerusalem to bring the relics of Mary to Constantinople to be enshrined in the capitol. The patriarch explained to the emperor that there were no relics of Mary in Jerusalem, that "Mary had died in the presence of the apostles; but her tomb, when opened later . . . was found empty and so the apostles concluded that the body was taken up into heaven."

In the eighth century, St. John Damascene was known for giving sermons at the holy places in Jerusalem. At the Tomb of Mary, he expressed the belief of the Church on the meaning of the feast: "Although the body was duly buried, it did not remain in the state of death, neither was it dissolved by decay. . . . You were transferred to your heavenly home, O Lady, Queen and Mother of God in truth." from Catholic Culture.org

Again, it makes sense to me and to me, it's beautiful.

"The Assumption completes God's work in her since it was not fitting that the flesh that had given life to God himself should ever undergo corruption. The Assumption is God's crowning of His work as Mary ends her earthly life and enters eternity. The feast turns our eyes in that direction, where we will follow when our earthly life is over." From Catholic Culture.org

When I think of and meditate on this mystery, this feast, I always can't help but think of Mary and her close relationship to her Son. A love from two pure souls, not smudged up by selfish hurts or striving, pure true love.

And, because it's always about me, I think of me and my sons. I am about to take my second son up to school, to move him out of the house. My eldest has already moved back up, he left last Sunday.  And I am already starting to leak tears here and there. And it will make me cry when we have to begin our drive home again, without him. I will try not to sob (not in front of him on campus, ok? Not cool.). But I will grieve him going. I will be very happy for him to be there, but it makes me cry to let him go. The house will echo without them here.

And then, I remember, when they come back on break or I go to visit them, the electric JOY that makes the world light up and a grin break across my face and dance to my feet. And that, that feeling, that reunion is what I think about, finally, every time, on this day.

My Jon

My Chris

Because no matter how old the mom is or how old the son(s).....that feeling surely cannot change, it hasn't yet.

The sheer undiluted JOY that must be had at THIS reunion - when Mary is lifted to heaven, after being physically separated for so long from her only dearest Son, and His for her. Think of that glee, those grins...I don't imagine a static statue of elegant repose and small appropriate smile on their faces. I hear and see whoops of laughter and hugs and glee and tears and grins and kisses. The best reunion of all. Glorious.

So, does the Assumption make sense? Oh yeah, to a mom, I think it makes Perfect sense. And it is a happy glorious feast!

painting by Botticini
{official busy disclaimer; much borrowed from years past, but not all...mom to eight, 'nuff said}

Dia de Fiesta: Santo Inigo!

Today is the feast of St. Ignatius of Loyola!

He is a Spanish saint and one that intrigues me, but kinds unnerves me.
Because not only is the the founder of the Jesuits, but his "Spiritual Exercises" are something that I know I should undertake, but of course, haven't and may not ever due to my utter wimpiness.
They are rigorous to say the least, a four week program of spiritual surgery, so to speak.   I know many who have done them and say they are as difficult as reported but oh so worthwhile.  Hence, my intrigue with them but my cold feet.  Truthfully, as well, trying to gather that focused time means I have to realign the cosmos too....

But anyhow, back to our saint, he's a biggie and he  has brought many others into the church and a life of service, not the last of which would be St. Francis Xavier and Father Pio ( a local friend), some of my favs.  

St. Ignatius was a mystic and a man of deep prayer, and his influence is still felt to this day.  He is one of the saints who did what we are all called to do: he changed the world.  He calls us all to give everything back to God himself: AMDG - "to the greater glory of God."

Ignatius recommended this prayer:

“Receive, Lord, all my liberty, my memory, my understanding and my whole will. You have given me all that I have, all that I am, and I surrender all to your divine will, that you dispose of me. Give me only your love and your grace. With this I am rich enough, and I have no more to ask.”

Yeah, you see why he is compelling yet daunting. 
Right; I've got a loooong loong way to go.  
St. Ignatius of Loyola, pray for us.

Feast of St Martha

Today is the Feast of St. Martha!

Which means that it is also my Marta's feast day as well.
What a big day for her! She is also going to her freshman retreat, along w/ Hannah, today and tomorrow...I'll post about it tomorrow.
But today is her patron's feast day: St. Martha.

We all know the stories of St. Martha: she's the busy, maybe pushy one.  She's the one who loved her brother so much, she kind of hollered at Jesus, scolding him for taking so long to come to her brother's side when he was sick and dying.  Jesus knew this family well, stayed with them frequently, and he took Martha in stride, he knew her as only Christ can, he knew her  heart.  So he reassured her and then raised Lazarus from the dead.  Well, I can only imagine that quieted her down and had her scurry to help.  But I digress...

I love St Martha for many reasons: she is much like me, very busy, sometimes losing herself in the busyness, maybe a little bossy and controlling.  (See, I told you...just like me!) She's task oriented, but underneath it all lies a heart of love and faith.  She knew if Jesus was there, it would be ok.  She loved.  She loved her brother, she loved Jesus...and she loved by doing.

I know too, she loves my Marta, Martha.  We asked her for prayers for our discernment about bringing Marta home; we still ask for her prayers for our girl.  She did, and she does.  Our Marta is much like her, she is a doer - happiest when she is involved in DOING something and good at the domestic side of life.  She is well named.  Marta is happiest being a caretaker of sorts, as was her patron.

So today, we ask St. Martha to help us learn to serve Christ better in our service to each other, and I ask her to pray for us, and as ever,  for my Marta.

A Prayer to St. Martha
Feastday July 29th 

 

                               O blessed St. Martha, your faith led Jesus to proclaim, “I am the resurrection and the life”; 

and faith let you see beyond his humanity when you cried out, 

“Lord I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God.” 

With firm hope you said, “I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him”,

and Jesus called your brother Lazarus back from the dead. 

With pure love for Jesus you welcomed him into your home. 

                                Friend and servant of our Saviour, I too am “troubled about many things”. 

(Pause for silent prayer.) 

Pray for me that I may grow in faith, hope and love, 

and that Jesus, who sat at your table, 

will hear me and grant me a place at the banquet of eternal life. 

Amen.    (Luke 10:38-42 / John 11:1-54)

Trinity Sunday

It's Trinity Sunday, the feast of the Holy Trinity. 

This concept of the Trinity, it's one of the mysteries in our universe, our faith, and  my mind.  In fact, if you ponder it long enough, and get close to thinking, "Aha! I've got it! I understand it now!"...then back up, you've just slid into heresy, presumption, and you're wrong. 

There is no fully complete understanding of this. It's a mystery with a capital "M."  One our puny human minds can't ever really fathom: three persons in one God.  The simplest way I've been able to grasp it is the catechism answer: God the Father, Christ the son, and the love between them SO powerful that it begets it's own person, the Holy Spirit. {Yeah, sounds familiar, no??  In marriage we love each other so much that our love begets another whole person, or more....  Kinda the same thing, but with the Trinity it's compounded to a factor of unspeakable billions, beyond our ken.} 

This is a short terrific book about the sign of the cross, which is, in it's purest form, a visual, physical recognition of the Trinity.  A very good quick read, but will make you think again about this common gesture.  As you make the sign of the cross, touching forehead, chest, shoulder, shoulder, and say these words: "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."....well, you've pretty much just summed up the most important bits of,  um, everything.  

Anyway, I'm no theologian.  If I start to think too hard about the Trinity, this mystery, my brain starts to scramble and ache. I prefer to gaze at this icon, above.  It's one of the oldest, most classic and best.  It does the best job of what icons are meant to do: to be windows into heaven.  They help represent the unknowable, the divine.  They help our minds and hearts and prayers step through that window into the divine.  Gaze.  Rest. Look.  Ahhh. 

Happy feast of the Holy Trinity!

God, we praise you:
Father all-powerful,
Christ Lord and Savior,
Spirit of Love.
You reveal yourself in the depths of our being,
drawing us to share in your life and your love.
One God, three Persons,
be near to the people formed in your image,
close to the world your love brings to life.
We ask you this, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
one God, true and living, forever and ever.

From the, collect:  prayers of the day.

Going up...

Ascension.  Today is the feast of the Ascension of the Lord.

Painting by Salvadore Dali.

Now, I have written before about this, and how it kind of always boggles my mind.  Because I am a visual kind of gal, I always get stuck in the imagining of this event, in the unimaginable visuals.  My mind wants to do a whole movie panorama on it, more old Cecil B DeMille flicks, less Spielberg...but I digress.  My point is that I can get all hung up in trying to SEE this, and understand it....which of course totally misses the point.  As usual.

But there are two cool parts to this that I could spend the rest of my life meditating upon, and in fact it would surely do me much good. I won't, but maybe I should.  

The first part I wrote about last year, again, here.  It's the whole concept that Jesus went to prepare a place for us.   He went to get things ready for us, at HOME.  Home.  Not our current abodes, apartments, houses, condos...but our true home.  And that is with Him, eternally, in heaven (I hope and pray). I mean,  how cool is that?? I don't know about  you, but I'm  not the greatest hostess on the planet.  I failed Martha Stewart 101.  I have to write post-its to remember to put nice folded towels in the guest bath.  But here, the God of the Universe, of everything, is heading off to prepare a place for us! Now I don't know what that entails in heaven and all, but even still, He's already on the details.  

I know I know, this is really talking about bigger picture stuff, but even so, God is in the details too and  you know it.  Ever looked at the marbling in granite?? Or the  marbling in marble? Huh? Stared into a tiger lily? Don't tell me that God doesn't pay attention to the tiny details...so I can marvel that Christ left the apostles, ascended even (another spectacular detail),  to go and prepare a place for us, the best place: Home.  Ahhhhh......joy. 

The second part of this very cool event, this mind tripping visual, is that this ascension also signified a new and different status for the apostles...which of course trickles right down to us, me.  He said to them that he would go, but he would send the Holy Spirit and then they were going to be sent too.  Out.  To witness.  To tell the world about this wild amazing truth, this mind blowing love.  That it was real.  He let those apostles SEE him ascend, not just fade away like the Cheshire Cat with his grin the last to go...

nope, he ascended as they watched (and surely, gaped and pointed, and held out their hands and maybe both laughed a bit and cried a bit too).    But certainly they had to be electrified; how could you not? Surely, this very change from followers of the earthly bodily Jesus to witnesses was facilitated by this ascension.  I mean, literally, they witnessed it.  They witnessed it all: yeah, the ascension, but also Christ himself on earth, his miracles, his passion, his resurrection, his heart, his voice, his smell, his smile.  

They knew him, like the world could not.  

And thus they were the first, sent out with a bang, to bring that excitement to everyone.  Big job, but then again, big cool.  Much to think about with this day....

O King of Glory,

Lord of Hosts,

Who didst this day ascend in triumph

above all the heavens!

Leave us not orphans,

but send upon us the Spirit of Truth,

promised by the Father. Alleluia!

The Liturgical Year: Book 9

Silence, Holy Saturday

Holy Saturday is a day of silence.

 painting Michael O'Brian

It is the tomb.
It is the day of grieving and being still, quiet for it...or mindful of it and trying to find that still silent spot inside; ever difficult in our modern days and our/my busy loud lives.
This is the day when the tabernacles, across the world, are barren.
And the emptiness is visceral.
I feel it.
I think the world feels it.
I do.

Tonight is the vigil and the promise of the return of the light, Light itself.
But for today. 
It is the deposition, the tomb.

It is silent....

So.  We wait.

High Holy Day. Psalm 22

So.  Today it is.

 

Today is Good Friday.

One of the hardest days of the year.

Today He died.

Battered.  Given.  Crucified.

Today is a day of fasting, abstinence, silence, prayer.  

It's supposed to be hard.

It is.  

"They have pierced My hands and My feet; they have numbered all My bones."

Psalm 22

Palms in our Palms

It's Palm Sunday

And  yes, as seen in the post directly below, it IS our anniversary.  This year our anniversary falls on Palm Sunday.  Which isn't quite as  humbling and embarrassing as when it falls on Holy Thursday or any such thing, but gee golly, it's close.  

You see, as Catholics, we don't really do sacraments like Marriage during a penitential season such as Lent.  It's not done.  Because it's a season of penance.  Right, quick now, stop.  No jokes about marriage and penance...cmon, tooo easy.  Get your head out of the gutter!  Besides, we are talking about MY marriage which is a gift, no penance, all right?  Right.  But I'm digressing through my digression...ahem.  I am going on the record that we got married in Lent first of all, because we were simply stupid and ignorant.  Second of all because it was spring break, Tom was in med school and we just couldn't wait.  Because we were madly in love and couldn't wait another minute, another day or month or season.  That's my story and I"m sticking to it.  But, really, secondly, because we are pushy and obnoxious and pushed the our favorite priest to go ahead and perform the ceremony because this was the only time we had to get married (ya know, spring break).  So he surely figured it was better to marry us than to NOT and so, he did.  {I wonder if I should confess being a near occasion of sin for him, oh so long ago? Hadn't thought about that, hmmmm...not entirely kidding....}  Third and last, but most obviously, we got married during Lent because we were obviously NOT living Catholic lives.  Not paying attention to the good stuff or details at all.  Doh.  And thus now....we are living our penance annually by having our anniversary during Lent.  Sigh.  It serves us right.  Talk about perfect justice.  Sheesh.  

Anyhow.  So.  Back to post.

It is Palm Sunday today.

Which means of course, that this is the beginning of HOLY WEEK!  Finally.  Already.  Oh my.

And this means that it is one of the hardest Masses of the year.  And the longest.  This is the Mass where they pass out Palms for us to hold, to re-enact in a tiny way Christ's entry into Jerusalem.  This is the Mass where small boys in the pews have mock sword fights with the palms as their mother tries to ignore and/or redirect them.  This is another nice connection to the liturgy my Marta knows, as they too pass out palms in her church (Orthodox) in Ethiopia.  This is familiar and known to her, reinforcing her connections in faith, both backward and forward. 

This is the Mass where the gospel passion of Christ is read, with different readers for each part: the Pastor reads Christ, the deacon or seminarian or another parishoner might read as narrator, another will read the part of Pilate/Herod, and then the congregation reads the part of the crowd.  So, yes, exactly, that means that we have to stand there in Mass and say, choke it out, "Crucify Him!"  It is harder than it sounds.  It is the hardest thing to do.  And yet, we must. Because of course, we did.  And do still.  I can't do this justice.  But Deacon Greg did in his homily for today, so I'm gonna lift a chunk of it, below.  Go read the whole thing tho, if you'd like a good read to step into a mindful Holy Week. 

 Because this is it.  It's almost done, this tough season.  It might be a tough week.  Instead of cringing, a dear priest, Father Luckas, has advised to face it head on, as a challenge to keep stepping mindfully forward.  To Christ  himself.  And so that is what I thought about in Mass today, as I held my palms in my hands, in my palms, and I also had to say "Crucify Him." And, "Jesus, Remember me, when you come into  your kingdom.."  And blink back the tears.  

Just as it should be.  

From Deacon Greg: read, begin Holy Week:

This week is the only time that the gospel is proclaimed by someone besides a priest or deacon - every individual in this church takes part.
It's a great privilege. And it - literally -- gives us a role in Christ's passion.
But what do we say? What lines are we given?
"Not this one! Barabbas!"
"Hail, King of the Jews!"
"Crucify him!"
"Take him away, crucify him!"
We cry out for vengeance, and we accuse his disciples, and we gamble to see which of us will get his cloak. We mock him.
We are the mob. And we cruelly assist in condemning Christ to death.
And the great irony, of course, is that we do it while clutching these palms.
They are a reminder - and an indictment. While we were standing here, crying out "Crucify him!," we were clutching the branches that we used to sing out "Hosanna." The palms reveal our very human duplicity. How easily we turn. How quickly we pivot from faithful, to faithless ... from belief to doubt ... from being disciples, to being betrayers.
We start out acting like angels, singing "Hosanna." And we end up just being the mob.
It can sometimes be that way throughout the church. The headlines this week have told the story. Men called to holiness can be guilty of appalling sins. Sins of abuse. Sins of neglect. Sins of dishonesty. Sins of betrayal.
And yet, to be a part of the body of Christ is to be with him on the cross. The Catholic writer Ronald Rolheiser has put it powerfully. "To be a member of the church," he wrote, "is to carry the mantle of both the worst sin and the finest heroism of soul....because the church always looks exactly as it looked at the original crucifixion, God hung among thieves."
And all we can do sometimes is echo the words of the one thief, words we heard just a few moments ago: "Jesus, remember me." That moment is the only one in any of the gospels where someone calls Jesus by his given name. Maybe it is because it is at this moment - the hour of his death -- that he is most like us. He hangs there, stripped, beaten, betrayed. He hangs among thieves. This is what we have done to our God. And this is what we continue to do, even today. 

 

Have a blessed Holy Week!

Cool Convergence

 So how cool is this? This is one for you Chris, and you Tom, and you Marta....and all you Ethiopian adoption folks.  This is a nun, now living in Jerusalem, who is Ethiopian and also a pianist.  So in this one woman we have so many of the interests and passions and parts of our family: music, piano, Ethiopia, faith, prayer, Holy Land, religious life:



Read below from BoingBoing (or go and see for yourself):

"Emahoy Tsegué-Maryam Guèbrou is a nun currently living in Jerusalem. She grew up as the daughter of a prominent Ethiopian intellectual, but spent much of her young life in exile, first for schooling, and then again during Mussolini's occupation of Ethiopia's capitol city, Addis Ababa, in 1936. Her musical career was often tragically thwarted by class and gender politics, and when the Emperor himself actually went so far as to personally veto an opportunity for Guèbrou to study abroad in England, she sank into a deep depression before fleeing to a monastery in 1948. "

"Today, she spends up to seven hours a day playing the piano in seclusion.  A compilation of her compositions was re-issued on the consistently great Ethiopiques label. You can read more about her life at the Emahoy Music Foundation."

And more on her religious/music life from the Emahoy Music Foundation:

"Young Yewubdar secretly fled Addis Abeba at the age of 19 to enter the Guishen Mariam monastery in the Wello region where she had once before visited with her mother. She served two years in the monastery and was ordained a nun at the age of 21. She took on the title Emahoy and her name was changed to Tsege Mariam. Despite the difficult life in religious order and the limited appreciation for her music in traditional Ethiopian culture, Emahoy worked fervently day and night. Often she played up to nine hours a day and went on to write many compositions for violin, piano and organ concerto."

nee, Yewubdar Gebru c. 1940

Celebrating Christmas in Bethlehem

I love a convergence like this.  It just reminds me how very small the world is in some ways.  The piano solo is beautiful (I LOVE the piano).  I don't know her of course, but still....there's that connection of touchpoints.   And it's cool.  

{h/t to Anchoress, and boingboing}

The Road to Connections

I'm hitting the road today, with a car full of teen girls from our little parochial school.  I'm taking the eighth graders and Marta (I hope) up to Youth 2000, a Catholic youth retreat.  I'm the chaperone (for the girls anyhow)!  No, it's not in New York, they hold these around the country (possibly in spots around the world, not sure).  But the video below is a good glimpse of what we'll be doing this weekend...

I've been to a few of these and also helped put one on at our local high school a few  years ago and I will say, they are awesome.  They get the kids fired up.  Even better, the kids get to drop their guard and connect.  
CONNECT.  
They connect to their friends, but also to their faith, their prayer, their deepest truest heart.  

 These Youth 2000 Retreats always have a great band, great music, great talks, great kids and best of all, the great wonderful compelling Fransiscan Friars of the Renewal.  I love these guys!  They are so full of joy and fun and life and are young and happening and folks (ok, me) tend to want to follow them around like puppies.  Compelling.  

It should be a wonderful, intense, exhausting, fun weekend.  I am looking forward to it!  So, please keep the girls and I in your prayers that we have a wonderful weekend, rich in prayer and connections...to each other and to our faith.   

Fish Eaters - What's up with that?

Ok, so here we are in Lent, officially in the first week of Lent (because even though half of last week was Lent, beginning with Ash Wednesday, those days aren't counted in the "weeks" but they are counted in the days.  Yeah, it messes me up too.)  Anyhow..... so we've already had two official days of abstinence and one of fasting.  

So, what's the diff? Abstinence, fasting, no meat....but fish, isn't fish meat?  
Confused?
Join the club, you aren't the only one.
In fact, I am a what they call a "Cradle Catholic;" by which I mean, raised Catholic from birth.  And even I still have to scratch my head and think hard on the specifics of the days sometimes.  {Although, admittedly, lately that's been more because of the softening of my mind and loss of brain cells due to this blasted middle age.}  

But folks always ask about the fish.  Specifically, "What's up with the Friday Fish?"

Ya got your fish fries, your fish sandwiches, tuna fish in every way you can dream it up.
Personally, I prefer the veggie route...but that's just me maybe.  Anthony, my little man, he will vote for the cheese pizza, every time.  But I digress.

Anyhow, so what IS up with the whole "fish" thing?
Well lots.
The rudimentary part is we abstain, we Catholics, from meat on Fridays.
It's a small mortification.
Some have speculated on why we do it.
But as with most things in the Church, there is always real history and tradition behind what we do today.  For a good article on the history and reasoning behind this, go here, it's an article written by my real world in person I just hugged her at Mass yesterday morning gal pal, Sonja.  She's brilliant and writes lovely intellectual pieces that explain so much about the church (as opposed to my stream of consciousness blather).  So read, you'll learn.  You'll be glad you did.

So, we fast and abstain in order to experience the spirit of this penitential season of Lent.  We make small (measly, really) sacrifices in order to train our bodily selves to look beyond our lives here, moment to moment.  We offer that small suffering to Christ, in thanksgiving for all he went through for us.  It is a small teeny tiny parallel to Christ's forty days of prayer in the desert.  We are in the desert, during Lent. We try to train our minds, bodies and hearts to turn to what is actually real and important.  And it's not the hamburgers...or the fish sandwiches.

So, yeah, we don't eat meat on Fridays.  Mostly during Lent, though some try to observe this throughout the year.  And it may sound like no big deal.  But I'll tell ya, maybe it's because I have the self discipline of a four year old....but when I KNOW I can't have meat, all of a sudden I am craving a big ol' steak, or bacon, or a chicken sandwich. It's as if I was thrown back to the caveman era, before the world knew the  wonders of spinach salad with goat cheese, or hummus, or a good caprese salad.  And I sulk a bit.  I mope around and suddenly can't find anything to eat. Because I am an infant.  And so, Fridays are tough.  But I guess that it how they are supposed to be.

Sunday in Haiti, Coffeedoc posts

A report from Tom, perfect for today, this Sunday:

 So I wondered where we might find a Mass this morning. Our hosts told us that they thought there was a Catholic Church just up the street. Ernest and I walked down there to see really early this morning so as not to miss an early morning mass. It was a church named after Santa Theresa of the child Jesus. Unfortunately, their priest wasn't going to be able to say Mass there today, covering other churches which have been destroyed by the earthquake I believe.

Church of St. Therese of the child Jesus, Jacmel,  Haiti

A man who was there, perhaps the sacristan, offered to take us up to where there was going to be a mass in Cayes Jacmel. We went out to the street and flagged down a "tap tap" which is Haiti's version of a taxi, kind of like the blue and white vans in Ethiopia.

 We drove for several miles and then got out. We walked up a dirt mountain road for another half mile to reach a clearing which was being used as the church since the church building had fallen.

 It was a beautiful service some of which I have video of. Here are some pictures.

 

 

Ernest at Mass.

I love you all and miss you.
Dad

Marching today

It's the Annual March for Life today.

Coffeedoc, Buddybug, Bananas, her best friend, and Marta are all in DC, today, for this.

 {So, because things are hectic (as usual) and I really can't say this differently, I am reposting part of this from last year.}

This is from a year or so ago...I don't have ones fro this year yet, of course.

I try not to get too political on this blog.
But it is surely no surprise to anyone that our family, I, we, are pro-life.
We are Catholic.
The Catholic Church has made it's position on the spectrum of life issues very clear, very simple: All life is sacred. Period. Beginning to end. No matter what, where, who.
Simple.

And before you get started....I am quite clear on all the facets of this issue, and have worked through different things and thoughts about it all over the years.
But finally and fully, as a Catholic who has discovered the deep beauty and richness in the faith, I realized it IS simple. And for me, though I spent years having long and important discussions on all the angles of this and these issues, finally it hit home in the most visceral way possible.

Here:
This is why I am pro-life.
Look, really look, at these faces.
How can I not be?

 
And while the actual March for Life happens today, the more, the most, important event (some might argue this point, but I would disagree) happened last night: the annual Vigil and Mass for Life. 

 {Last night, waiting for Mass}

Last night at the Cathedral

In the packed Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, with Bishops and religious and just regular folks from all over (thousands upon thousands), all jam packed in to pray. 

[Last night, waiting for Mass to start]

They wait for hours (often 4-6) before the Mass even begins, just to make sure they have a spot. They pray, they talk and then, they pray in community: the Mass.  Even with that long wait, the enthusiasm is not dimmed.  (And, frankly, I believe this is the most powerful method of change.  Marching is good, graphic gruesome pics are off-putting and are not, but prayer is best.  It works.  Coming together in force to pray....priceless.)

 {Last night, waiting for Mass to begin}

There is also a Youth Rally and Mass for Life the next morning (today) the day of the March. Here's a snip from last year.  Our Lady of Guadalupe, protector of the unborn, pray for us. 



And, if you can't make it in person, your voice can still be heard...this site has a way to "be there" virtually, with an avatar even (how hip), and march in solidarity.  (thanks Shannon!)