Then Time Is Always Ours

For the past year or so, I have enjoyed a “creative correspondence” with a gifted poet named Scott Eagan.  I was delighted to discover that Scott lives and farms at Madonna House, the ongoing apostolate of one of my heroes, Servant of God Catherine Doherty.  Within the Madonna House community, Scott lives the simplicity and quiet of the Holy Family of Nazareth.  He works the land, he prays and writes.

Scott’s poems reveal the heart of a farmer, one who is close to the land.  In a time when so many of us are somewhat disconnected from nature, Scott’s poems provide an intimate window into the beauty of rural Canada, the changing seasons, farm animals, wild animals, harvests and crops, sun, moon and stars.  My own world is broadened by the images he shares and his interpretations of life and nature.

As the longest, darkest days of winter approach, and as we wait with both patience and impatience for the birth of our Savior, I wanted to share with you one of Scott’s poems:  “Winter Time.”  If we learn to appreciate the gift of each season, the rhythm of life that God has prescribed, then no time is ever fallow, no season wasted. 

And so before we look forward to spring, may we pay winter our respects, and find in her darkest night the Gift that, like nature herself, can never be rushed – the unity between God and human beings.

Thank you, Scott.

Winter Time

Times change

what once was our summer

warm sun and rains

almost as if God had smiled on

every solid working day

and every blessed night of rest …

then autumn passed

crimson and gold washed away

by cold, grey rains

through gusty winds ofpassage

and we are left with winter.

Our axis has tilted

our face turned north of the sun

almost as if His face has frowned

warm rains become white flakes

cold on the cheek, melting

on our summer passed by

washing across our autumn

now clinging to winter time.

Know that if we wait

if we may learn to enjoy frost

the cold and the crystal

the days when our face, low

to the sun’s waning light

- yet a loving face nonetheless -

perceiving the distant possibility of spring

and its rising warm smile to return

then time is always ours.

Scott Eagan

November 23, 2015

Claude Monet, Grainstacks at Sunset, Snow Effect, 1891

Why We Still Need John the Baptist

During Advent, we always meet John the Baptist in the Sunday Gospel readings.  John is a colorful figure, and we all love him for it.  But we might not love him so much if we met him in the desert!  Especially if he was shouting in our direction!

There’s a wonderful question in Luke’s account of the birth of John the Baptist.  When John was born, people asked themselves:  “What then will this child become?” (Lk. 1:66). 

What did John become?  And why is he still so important?

Luke's Gospel identifies John as the prophet who came to smooth rough ways by levelling mountains and filling in valleys.  That sounds like hard work.  And it is.  Because when it comes to the human heart, most of us have no interest in having our mountains levelled or our valleys filled in.  We go through our days saying, “I’m just fine thank you,” continuing right along the same rough path as always.  It was John’s momentous task to convince people that they are not fine.  As Jesus would later explain, “Those who are healthy do not need a physician, but the sick do” (Lk. 5:31).  It is hard work convincing people that they need a physician.  How often have you put off a visit to the doctor?  How often have you ignored pains and symptoms, hoping they would go away on their own?  John’s preaching convinced people that they could no longer ignore the symptoms.  And they repented, making way for a healing Savior.

John was a sight to see, a man of the desert, and I imagine his prophetic voice was quite loud.  We still need that loud voice ringing in our ears, that strange sight of someone so different telling us that something is not right in our lives, in our world.  Our own spiritual blindness, our self-satisfied complacency, is the impenetrable fortress John wanted to knock down. 

This was the work of the one who was not even worthy to loosen the thong of Jesus’ sandal!  This was the preparation for something even greater.  So imagine – imagine – what Jesus can do in our hearts if first we listen to the voice of the Baptist!

"King of the Universe"

This Sunday is one of my favorite feast days, the Feast of Christ the King!  I’m always hoping for a spirited rendition of “Lift High the Cross.”

Below is my reflection on Sunday’s Gospel, republished here with permission from Catechist Magazine, where it originally appeared.

To read this Sunday’s Gospel, click here:  John 18:33-37.

Reflect:  This Sunday we celebrate the great solemnity of Christ the King. We honor the glory and dominion of Christ with the grand title “King of the Universe.”

But what is the nature of this kingship? What does Jesus mean when he stands before Pilate, beaten and bleeding, and says, “My kingdom does not belong to this world?”

When we look into the pages of the Gospels, we do not find the things that our world associates with kings. We find no jeweled crown, no vast estates, and no wealth to speak of. We find no armies, no servants, and no political power. In fact, we find that most Gospel references to Jesus as a “king” are insults! They are sarcastic words meant to humiliate Jesus. Recall the Roman soldiers who stood before him as he hung on the cross and called out: “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself!” (Luke 23:37). They had already placed on him a crown of thorns and purple robes, and kneeling in front of him, they had laughed at this “king” (Matthew 27:29).

The kingship of Jesus is a paradox, a contradiction. Yes, our God is mighty, powerful, and wealthy beyond comprehension. But in his son Jesus, he has shown himself to be deliberately weak, powerless, and poor. This is the kind of king we worship. This is the divine king who became human, like us. This is the king who wrought our salvation through blood, sweat and tears. This is the king that bewildered many of his contemporaries but ultimately “makes sense” to his followers. This is the king who reigns in our hearts.

It is fitting that the celebration of Christ the King directly precedes our Advent observance. Our celebration of the deliberately humble kingship of Jesus prepares us for the coming of the small and vulnerable Christ child. Even the lowly manger, his first throne, signifies the kind of king we have in Jesus. He does not reign from a distant castle or a fortified compound. This king is present with us. He is close to us. He is one of us.

Ask Yourself: How can I imitate the deliberate poverty and humility of Christ? How does this give me strength and power?

Pray: Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, teach my heart the true meaning of power as humility, service and love. May I embrace the quiet power of your manger and your cross.

Ask Your Students: How does our world understand power? How does Jesus understand power (think about the kind of power he shows us on the cross)? Which kind of power should we strive for?

Reprinted with permission from CATECHIST magazine.  For subscription information visit catechist.com. 

Christ with Thorns, Carl Bloch (1834-1890)

The "God Is In Control Church"

I used to live in a strange town called Waldorf.  The first time I ever went to Waldorf was to eat lunch with new colleagues from the parish where I was about to start working.  Carol directed me to the restaurant by telling me to drive south into Waldorf, then turn left on “Mattawoman-Beantown Road."  Cheryl mentioned a helpful landmark:  “You’ll see a giant paint can on the left side of the road right before your left turn.  The giant paint can is how we mark things in Waldorf – everything is either before or after the paint can.”

I found the whole thing very strange.  Waldorf was always like that for me, though I did become quite accustomed to saying “Mattawoman-Beantown” and giving directions by orienting everything around a very large paint can that was perched on top of a strip mall. 

After slugging through seven or eight years of purgatorial Waldorfian living, my sister-in-law’s Swiss boyfriend informed me that Waldorf means “wooded village” in German.  It sounded so lovely!  If only!

But I shouldn’t complain.  Waldorf had its charms.  And one of them was a little non-denominational church situated on Waldorf’s main thoroughfare, nestled into one of Waldorf’s most nondescript strip malls.  It was called the “God Is In Control Church.”

Now that is a great name for a church.  Sure, we Catholics have very fine church names:  Holy Infant, Our Lady Help of Christians, Prince of Peace, The Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception.  Wonderful saints, devotions and mysteries.  But I think Waldorf may have one-upped us this time.  Every time I drove past that little storefront church, I felt great about life.  I might have been living in a strange town, surrounded by suburbia, yearning for a wooded village.  But God was in control.  God was in control.  And that was enough.

Yes, the members of that little church had done something right.  Just by choosing a name and hanging up a sign, they were evangelizing me.  The “God Is In Control Church” made me happy.  It made me feel safe.  It made me want to nod my head and shout “Amen!” 

Plus, it was almost as much fun to say as “Mattawoman-Beantown.” 

I can't believe I found a picture of the actual paint can in Waldorf, MD!  You can click on the image to go to a website where you will see pictures of many, many giant paint cans found throughout the U.S.  Who knew?  P.S.  My husband enjoyed Waldorf very much.

"Everything"

Last week I gave a retreat for high school sophomores.  It was a very new experience for me!  As I was preparing, a friend of mine recommended a short video that she thought the teens would find meaningful.  She herself had been touched by it as an adult.  I was more than open to suggestions, so I watched the video. 

I loved it.  The sophomores loved it.  And I think you will, too. 

As I told the high school students, you may not have the same problems as the girl in the video, but you will recognize her struggle.  You will understand her searching and straying, the forces at work in her life, and the power of a savior who never leaves our side.  

I recommend that you watch when you have 5 minutes of quiet time by yourself.