Wrestling a Mantilla

G'day, friends. I thought I would blog as my husband watches the Psycho remake. Why would someone want to remake a classic? I just peaked over and saw the scene where the policeman is stabbed at the top of the stairs. They used the same camera angle as Hitchcock. Now, if you don't think you can improve upon it, just don't do it.

Now for my title. Chris and I visited our wonderful Benedictine Monastery this weekend - only about 45 minutes away. I love this place. As we drive onto the property I feel as if I'm entering a chapel. Seeing sheep graze and an occasional monk walking with his hood on and head low, praying the day's liturgical prayers with about 30 men chanting Gregorian... priceless. I love it and I thank God for it.

But now for the mantilla. Most women wear mantillas for Mass. It's said in Latin and a lot of the people who go there could be considered what I call Rad-Trad (radical traditionalists). Well, I'm not a rad-trad and don't want to be, so during the four years we've been going to the monastery I've never worn a mantilla.

Well, this time I decided I would. I decided that there's a humility before God involved in covering one's head that can only be a good thing. I decided that I could really use that and so I wore a mantilla to express that desire to God. Well, you know what? It felt pretty darn good. And while I sat there soaking in the chant, I thought about how some of my resistance was due to the gender-thing. Why do women have to wear a hat? But then I remembered that when I was young, men had to remove their hats when they entered church. That was when men wore hats every day. They were asked to go "hat in hand" to God.

It's sad. Men don't have a way to express their humility before God anymore. It's funny how it all turned around in my mind. I found myself feeling sorry for them and wishing they could wear prayer shawls or something to experience the same thing I did the day I wrestled a mantilla and the mantilla won.

Steam, as in Blowing Off

The bishops of California are asking for contributions to cover the combined almost 1 billion dollars in sexual abuse settlements. No. That's what I would tell them. Did the laymen and women in the pews have anything to do with this horror? No. Do I feel that this is an unjust punishment for the church? No. Does the church need to reverberate with the impact of these financial blows to give it a fraction of the pain that was caused to these children? Yes. Let it reverberate. And yes, the financial impacts will cause much pain. Fewer people will be served. The dioceses where the most sin occurred will need to pare back to the bare bones. And that is how it should be. Pare back until you have left only what you started with - the people. And maybe then, dear leaders, you will appreciate the gift God blessed you with, the sheep God intended you to shepherd, to put first above church politics, clericalism, and fear of legal implications.

Sitting in a Forest of Cubes

I really should be working!!! It's Friday of Fall Break and I'm one of about 10 people on the whole floor. I've been reading emails, blogs and hoping 5:00 (or 3, or 2) comes quickly. Really, I haves tons to do and I want to take advantage of the quiet. But first let me say hello, have a lovely day, and "allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise, and love" - St. Theresa.

Colorado Meanderings

I'm sitting in the Grand Junction Colorado airport waiting for my flight home. Unfortunately, I've missed a whole day of Mary being home for Fall Break (finally a child who goes to college close enough to return home for visits!!!!). But she and I are going to go to Shades of Brown when I arrive in Tulsa to get some coffee and catch up on things.

The ride to the airport was gorgeous. Some mountains can be described as majestic. The mountains here are more cozy - they're rolling hills that look like they're covered with different colored and textured fabrics.

We have an hour to wait and I'm trying not to listen to every minute detail being blared on the TV about a student who shot teachers and students in Cleveland. I listened long enough to know no one died, but I feel bad when I ignore things like that. Why? I guess because if I ignore it, that means it's become common place. And it has, hasn't it?

Love you guys (uhhh, those I know, anyway)!!

Joy and Justice

Today was a joy-filled day. I don't know why, it was pretty hum-drum, but joy was in my heart.

Msgr gave an amazing homily today about our purpose in life - to know, love and serve God. After the Gospel was read, about the master who, rather than feeding the hungry servant who had just returned from the field, expected him to wait on those at the table, I turned to Chris and said, "I think this makes 3 difficult Gospels in a row!" (I had noticed a woman in front of me who seemed to be Muslim and I was hoping for a sermon about God's infinite love.)

Well, Monsignor didn't flinch. He drove right to the point, and it seemed that everyone there, including many children, were hanging on his every word. (We are so blessed.) And it was very timely for me because I had been thinking about this very thing lately. I seem way too casual about putting God off. He is love, goodness, mercy, wisdom... but he is also justice, awesome and fear-inspiring.

Like Sarah said, "it's not about me". And then she stopped. Because to put it into words doesn't at all do it justice.

OK, I'll Update....

I've received comments about not updating, so here goes...

I've had just delightful discussions with my kiddos over the last week or so. I just hung up with Sarah. The joy she was immersed in when she was with the Missionaries of Charity yesterday had spilled over into her life and she passed it along to me. I really needed it at the moment too. Thank you Sarah! See her blog for more detail on her wonderful day. She was able to meet Mother Teresa's replacement.

Please pray for Elizabeth as she adjusts to her Peace Corps assignment in Honduras. She loves it there, but it's been difficult at times. It's easier for me to see God work in my children's lives than in mine. I'm so confident of His love for them and how difficulties get woven into the tapestry of their lives as strengths. Chris and I were talking about it last night and said, "If there weren't difficulties she would return in 2 years the same Lizzie who went there, only with a deeper tan and better Spanish!"