#WorthRevisit: Earth Day According to One Secular Franciscan

With Earth Day coming up this Friday (it’s even on the freebie church calendar along with all the saint of the day and what Sunday of Easter happens this week, and Passover, even) I’m looking back at an Earth Day post from 2008.

Saint Francis of Assisi has apparently come to be considered the Patron Saint of Earth Day, ecology, and all things “green.”

But the green movement does Francis no justice when insistence is placed on “green for green’s sake.”

The only thing the Francis was interested in for its own sake was God.

Yes, he had a great reverence for Creation–the earth, nature, the sun and moon and all the animals, plants and trees. But his reverence was born from his awe of the power and creativity and genius of God. To Francis, every bit of God’s creation reflected God’s glory–and that is what made creation something to be revered. Francis saw God’s glory, power, creativity and genius in everything and everyone, and strove to act accordingly. …

Let us remember that while it’s great to reduce waste, recycle or reuse what we have, and try to create less garbage, the reason we do this is to treat God’s creation with care–to be good stewards of what we have been given.

It’s not enough to be “green.” We should also be grateful.

when saint francis saved the church

If you want to know what St. Francis of Assisi was really about, read When Saint Francis Saved the Church by Jon M. Sweeney. You’ll find that his priorities were very different from the picture of him painted by environmental activists who claim to be acting in his name.

Saint Francis set out to save the Church. Not the earth.

The fine print: Link to Jon Sweeney’s book is an Amazon affiliate link. Your purchases through my affiliate links help support Franciscanmom.com.

worth revisit

I’m linking up with Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for #WorthRevisit Wednesday, a place where you can come and bring a past & treasured post to share, and link up with fellow bloggers!

#WorthRevisit: French Toast and Mercy

The Year of Mercy is a great time to concentrate on ways we can involve our whole family in acts of mercy toward others. I just finished reading Divine Mercy for Moms, which is all about this topic (and which deserves a real review of its own–coming soon!) And over at CatholicMom.com we’re planning a special summertime feature called “Ordinary Time, Extraordinary Mercy” beginning after Pentecost. So I’ve got mercy on my mind these days.

divine mercy for moms

Here’s a look back at one spring day 11 years ago when my Big Kids (ages 9 and 13 at the time) really stepped up their mercy game.

Photo by annaj (2015) via Pixabay, CC0 Public Domain.
Photo by annaj (2015) via Pixabay, CC0 Public Domain.

Today one of my neighbors was down with the Flu. This afternoon she came outside with her children (4 1/2 years, and 14 months) and she looked so worn out that I told her to pass the kids over the fence to me and let the kids play here. My Big Kids were helpful with the children, and she got a bit of a nap. Then when she came back out for them, she said that the kids would be eating French toast for dinner.

French toast is Big Brother’s specialty.

I told Big Brother I had a special catering job for him, and sent him inside to make enough French toast for the two little ones. Middle Sister helped him out, cut it all up and put it on plates for the kids.
We passed the children and their dinner back over the fence to their Mommy.

Big Brother bragged about his use of the Secret Ingredient (my guess is, it was cinnamon sugar).

I’m very proud of how my Big Kids were helpful to our neighbor in this way, and without complaining or whining. Good job, Big Kids! I will be sure they are justly rewarded even though (and maybe especially because) they didn’t look for what was in it for them.

worth revisit

I’m linking up with Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for #WorthRevisit Wednesday, a place where you can come and bring a past & treasured post to share, and link up with fellow bloggers!

#WorthRevisit: When Kids Listen to the Homily

I’m looking back at a post from April 2006, when I discovered that sometimes my kids actually DO listen to the homily!

My children have never, EVER commented on a homily before, unless it is to remark (complain?) at the length of it.

Yesterday on the way home from church, Big Brother observed, “Father really dissed the Apostles in his homily today!” He was clearly impressed that this could be done. And I think it was good for him to notice and hear this message: those Apostles, even though they had been blessed with Jesus’ constant presence for three years, still managed to mess up! They fell asleep, denied Him, abandoned Him during the crucifixion, and locked themselves in someone’s second floor room, only to disbelieve the first few people (Mary Magdalene and the other women) who saw Jesus resurrected. And Jesus let them have it. But then he still let them lead His Church.

I remember that day, and I remember which priest gave that homily. He always made no bones about Peter’s tendency to speak loudly and think later, and about James and John, the “Sons of Thunder” and their overbearing mother with her entitlement complex.

More and more, I find it comforting that the Apostles weren’t perfect.  We tend to think that they (and the saints) were. But if we let go of that idea, and consider that they all found ways to mess things up, it can be a great comfort to us when we don’t get it right.

By Albertino Piazza  - www.bildindex.de, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8665288
By Albertino Piazza – http://www.bildindex.de, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8665288

We’re not perfect. Neither were the saints. Neither were the Apostles. But Jesus picked them anyway. It’s good for us to realize it–and it’s good for kids to hear Father “dissing” the Apostles. Because in the end, God made it all work out.

worth revisit

I’m linking up with Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for #WorthRevisit Wednesday, a place where you can come and bring a past & treasured post to share, and link up with fellow bloggers!

#WorthRevisit: Cast Your Cares Upon Him

I am a worrier. Professional-grade. If there’s a thing to worry about, I’ll worry.

I even worry after the fact.

On Sunday, Hubs surprised me with a fistful of tickets to the Notre Dame NCAA basketball game.

NCAA elite 8 game

I worried all day; how would we get there, where would we park, would TheKid have trouble bringing in his bag of diabetes essentials, would I feel well enough (that was iffy; I’m still coughing my head off in allergy-induced asthma attacks).

I worried all the way there, especially when we had to wait outside the Holiday Inn so Hubs could pick up the tickets at the StubHub office. I wasn’t the only one with thoughts of gloom and doom, as evidenced by my older son’s remark when Hubs returned to the car: “He’s back, and it seems like he still has both his kidneys…”

I worried as we funneled our way into the arena and I realized that I hadn’t removed my Swiss Army knife from my cosmetic bag (which contains exactly 0 cosmetics.) I hoped that the handbag inspectors wouldn’t notice. They didn’t.

I enjoyed the game very much, until the Irish lost. I didn’t do a lot of yelling, because that makes me cough. To my daughter and the people who were sitting in front of us, you’re welcome.

I even worried the next night, after it was all over! I said goodnight, went to bed, and had this half-asleep panic attack about sitting way up there in the arena–and falling forward and not being able to stop it.

I write a lot about worry, because that helps me to get it out of my head a little bit. If I talk about it with people in my family they just tell me to get over myself and stop worrying about pointless things, but it’s not something I can turn off like a water faucet.

To prove I’m Still Worried After All These Years, here’s a post from 2008 describing the exact same struggle.

“Cast your cares upon Him.”

That was one of the messages in today’s first reading.

“Cast your cares upon Him.”

This was the first time all week that I’ve been able to get to Mass, and the reading was just what I needed to hear.

“Cast your cares upon Him.”

I was in my usual Worry Over What Might Happen Even If It’s Really Unlikely mode, all day long today.

“Cast your cares upon Him.”

Tonight at our Secular Franciscans meeting, our ongoing formation centered on Mary. A theme that kept coming up in the discussion was her great trust, and the example she sets for us with the trust she displayed.

“Cast your cares upon Him.”

If I’m worrying over what might happen, I’m not doing too much trusting, am I?

“Cast your cares upon Him….and He will lift you up.”

Finally as the meeting closed and we chatted while we cleaned up the room, I was lifted up. I laid down my cares and some wonderful friends reassured me. I wonder if my sisters in Francis know that their words and kindness meant so much.

“Cast your cares upon Him.”

We were truly not meant to carry our cares all alone.

“Cast your cares upon Him.”

Today I’m going to spend some time listening to this favorite from John Michael Talbot. It always makes me feel better when I worry.


worth revisit

I’m linking up with Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for #WorthRevisit Wednesday, a place where you can come and bring a past & treasured post to share, and link up with fellow bloggers!

#WorthRevisit: St. Therese

At daily Mass on Monday, Father gave me two hosts.

Actually, he gave most people two hosts, unless they receive on the tongue.

The gentleman in line ahead of me stopped, looked at his hand, and said to Father, “You gave me two.”

“Yes. Yes, I did,” replied Father, and continued distributing Communion to the other people in line.

After Communion Father mentioned that he should have said something before we all lined up. He was giving everyone two hosts because they want to deplete the reserved Eucharist in the tabernacle before Holy Thursday.

With two churches in our parish and a succession of substitute priests this spring, we have a lot of consecrated hosts in those tabernacles. So on Tuesday, when Mass is celebrated in the other church, we all received two hosts again (this time, with fair warning from Father before Communion.)

I expect that the same will be true today.

story of a soul tan classicsWhenever I receive a portion of a host, it makes me think of the moment in St. Therese of Lisieux’s autobiography, A Story of a Soul, in which she worries about only receiving part of a host:

I do not normally feel any anxiety about going to Holy Communion, but there was one occasion when I did. There had been a shortage of Hosts for several days, so that I had received only a small piece, and on this particular morning I most foolishly said to myself: “If I only receive part of a Host today, I will know that Jesus does not really want to come into my heart.” I went up, and to my joy, after a moment’s hesitation, the priest gave me two complete Hosts: what a lovely answer! (p. 105)

I actually like when I receive only a piece of the host, because it makes me recall an extra time, “This is my Body…broken for you.”

4c738-shirtofflame

For #WorthRevisit Wednesday I’m linking to my review of Shirt of Flame, which chronicles author Heather King’s year spent delving into the life and work of St. Therese.

…this is a saint to whom I don’t take easily.  A priest once described her in a homily as “immature, fussy, and a bit of a drama queen” and I’m inclined to agree.  I read her autobiography as a teenager, and I think it appealed to me more then than it does now that I’m fortymumble years old (I’m actually 50 now) and most of my idealism has melted away amid the cares and worries and chores of taking care of my husband and family.

That book got me reconsidering my opinion of St. Therese.

Have you ever found a book that completely altered your thoughts on a particular saint?

worth revisit

I’m linking up with Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for #WorthRevisit Wednesday, a place where you can come and bring a past & treasured post to share, and link up with fellow bloggers!

#WorthRevisit: Redirection

For Worth Revisit Wednesday today, I’ve dipped into the 2007 archives for a little attitude adjustment.

Little Brother and his friend Adventure Boy are busily playing with Legos and having a snack of popcorn.

Of course, two five-year-olds generally spill at least as much popcorn as they eat. Between the popcorn and the Legos, I could barely tell what color carpet they were sitting on.

Neither of them was too keen on the idea of picking up that spilled popcorn, until I suggested that they put it into a bowl and then take it outside and dump it out under the bird feeder so the squirrels could have a snack too.

Suddenly the two boys were quiet as could be, picking up every tiny speck of popcorn off the floor so they could feed the squirrels. They proudly went outside to dump the bowl.

popcorn-316774_960_720 pixabay
Photo via Pixabay (2014), CC0 Public Domain.

What an instant change in attitude! Cleaning up for the sake of cleaning up is not fun at all, and I often resist doing it just as the two boys did. But if cleaning up means that someone else benefits, it becomes less of a chore. Sometimes it even becomes a pleasure.

I’ve noticed this myself as I do a morning sweep through the house. “I love you,” I think to myself as I pick up someone’s dirty socks that are hiding under a chair. Remembering that I sweep the floors, wash the socks, and scrub the sink because I love my family can help me get past the “I don’t want to” attitude that can easily overtake me.

An excellent wife who can find?
She is far more precious than jewels.
The heart of her husband trusts in her,
and he will have no lack of gain.
She does him good, and not harm,
all the days of her life.
She seeks wool and flax,
and works with willing hands.
She is like the ships of the merchant;
she brings her food from afar.
She rises while it is yet night
and provides food for her household
and portions for her maidens.
She considers a field and buys it;
with the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard.
She dresses herself with strength
and makes her arms strong.
She perceives that her merchandise is profitable.
Her lamp does not go out at night.
She puts her hands to the distaff,
and her hands hold the spindle.
She opens her hand to the poor
and reaches out her hands to the needy.
She is not afraid of snow for her household,
for all her household are clothed in scarlet.
She makes bed coverings for herself;
her clothing is fine linen and purple.
Her husband is known in the gates
when he sits among the elders of the land.
She makes linen garments and sells them;
she delivers sashes to the merchant.
Strength and dignity are her clothing,
and she laughs at the time to come.
She opens her mouth with wisdom,
and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.
She looks well to the ways of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children rise up and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
“Many women have done excellently,
but you surpass them all.”
Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,
but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
Give her of the fruit of her hands,
and let her works praise her in the gates. (Proverbs 31: 10-31)

This is a tall order, for sure. (And I’m certainly guilty of “eating the bread of idleness” more than I should!) But I think that part of the secret of this “excellent wife” is that she is doing her work out of love for her husband and family. The hard work of running a household goes a little easier when you focus on blessing the people you love.

worth revisit

I’m linking up with Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for #WorthRevisit Wednesday, a place where you can come and bring a past & treasured post to share, and link up with fellow bloggers!

 

#WorthRevisit on Opening Day

… of the 2016 Clothesline Season, that is.

I love Clothesline Season. Today is the first day that the weather’s been nice enough for me to get outside with my laundry basket and my clothespins to hang up the clothes. It’s a nice time just to zone out and think for 10 minutes–and I’ll get that again late this afternoon when I take the fresh-smelling clothes off the line and fold them all as I put them into the basket.

All the usual stuff on the clothesline: pajama pants, T-shirts, joggers and a puffy shirt from TheKid's latest show.
All the usual stuff on the clothesline: pajama pants, T-shirts, joggers and a puffy shirt from TheKid’s latest show.

For “Worth Revisit Wednesday” I’ve gone back to March of 2010 when I celebrated Opening Day:

For lo, the winter is past,
The snows are over and done
The cooing of the mourning dove is heard in my backyard,
And I’ve already been outside to hang laundry on the clothesline!

Father H. has been telling us these past two weeks that “Lent” comes from an old word meaning “springtime.” And this week, finally, it’s starting to feel–and look–like spring. I can see grass in my front yard, and I slogged through the mud pit that is my backyard so I could get to the clothesline to hang laundry. This morning, for the first time this year, I heard the birds outside when I was waking up.

It’s one of the most wonderful times of the year!

worth revisit

I’m linking up with Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for #WorthRevisit Wednesday, a place where you can come and bring a past & treasured post to share, and link up with fellow bloggers!

#WorthRevisit: Church – Not Just for Sundays

We are blessed to have Perpetual Adoration in our parish. People can stop in for a short visit or spend a holy hour.

When I was growing up, we didn’t know about Adoration Chapels–if they had them. Of course, at that time, churches were open (at least during the day) so people could go in and pay a visit. And we did, as I recall in this post from 10 years ago:

Sometimes my dad would take us kids to a church in a neighboring town while Mom was at some meeting or other. Dad would have some time to kill, and we’d walk around the neighborhood, visit a park, and at some point wind up in the church.

One of us would ask him, “Are we here for church?”

“No, let’s just say hi to God.”

That was an amazing idea. You can go into a church, and just visit. You can just let God know you’re there, say a prayer, light a candle. Dad would let us walk around a little, look at the statues, kneel down for a moment by the tabernacle.

The church would be quiet. Most of the lights would be out, but it wasn’t a spooky darkness. It was kind of comfortable, actually, kind of the way you feel at night when it’s dark, and you’re nice and warm and sleepy, and you know you’re safe. After all, even if the church is nearly dark, and nearly empty, it is still full–because God is there, just waiting for you to come in and say hi.

 

 

worth revisit

I’m linking up with Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for #WorthRevisit Wednesday, a place where you can come and bring a past & treasured post to share, and link up with fellow bloggers!

#WorthRevisit: Pride, Music and the Triduum

The Triduum: it’s only a few weeks away. And the musicians’ schedule has come out, and once again the folk group is not on it.

I’ve been a musician at this parish for about 20 of the past 25 years. For the first 10 years or so, the choir had Holy Thursday, the folk group had Good Friday, and everyone who could make it had the Easter Vigil.

When I returned to the parish after a 4-year hiatus, the folk group had its last hurrah at Good Friday that first year and no one but the choir was invited to sing at the Vigil. After that, we weren’t invited to anything for the Triduum.

I wrote about it here. I wrote about the Year We Were Excluded on Christmas too (thank God that only happened once.)

Last year we invited ourselves to Good Friday (after the pastor and music director who’d been keeping us out of special occasions had both moved on.) The new music director was very welcoming and accommodating. So was 50% of the choir. But the choir’s “Penalty Box” in the Big Church creates a real design challenge when it comes to getting 3 guitars and 10 extra people into the space, and not everyone was gracious about sharing wiggle room and music stands (why vocalists need music stands is beyond me. Their hands are not busy.)

#Hey! Let's make a triangular choir area with a closet bump-out in the middle!" said no sane church designer ever.
“Hey! Let’s make a triangular choir area with a closet bump-out in the middle!” said no sane church designer ever.

ANYWAY, for the past several years I’ve basically boycotted the Triduum, because it hurts to be there. It hurts to be excluded. So I rant in this space (and to my husband) and commiserate with the rest of the folk group–and nurse my wounded pride.

That needs to stop, and I’m the only one who can stop it. This year, I need to make it my business to be at the Triduum.

As I mentioned the other day, my friend has set a good example by bringing her children to a musical in which they were not cast, in order to support their friends who did get a role.

These boys are learning how to rise above their own disappointments and support their friends who were not similarly disappointed. It’s a hard lesson–at any age.

How many adults have not learned such a lesson? How often do we let our own wounded pride stand in the way of enjoying an experience or supporting a friend?

Time to put my money where my mouth is. If 9-year-olds can do it, so can I.

worth revisit

I’m linking up with Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for #WorthRevisit Wednesday, a place where you can come and bring a past & treasured post to share, and link up with fellow bloggers!

#WorthRevisit: Dread vs. Hope

Do you hate Lent?

There’s nothing fun about penance, to be sure, but Lent has its hopeful side. Today I’m revisiting a post I wrote on the First Sunday of Lent in 2007:

Why is Lent something we seem to dread?

It’s only been three days so far, and I’ve lost count of the people who have expressed to me how much they “hate Lent.”

This morning a fellow church musician mentioned that she finds Lenten music to be full of Gloom and Doom.

Granted, this is not a cheerful time, in the sense that Christmas and Easter are cheerful. But it is certainly a hopeful time. It is a time to look forward to the holiest Three Days that we celebrate as a Church. As we remind ourselves each week as we recite the Memorial Acclamation, “Lord, by your cross and resurrection, you have set us free. You are the Savior of the world.”

At Mass today our choir will sing this song by Dan Schutte:

Let us ever glory in the cross of Christ,
Our salvation and our hope.
Let us bow in homage to the Lord of life,
Who was broken to make us whole.
There is no greater love, as blessed as this,
To lay down one’s life for a friend.
Let us ever glory in the cross of Christ
And the triumph of God’s great love.

Let us tell the story of the cross of Christ
As we share this heavenly feast.
We become one body in the blood of Christ
From the great to the very least.
When we eat of this bread and drink of this cup
We honor the death of the Lord.
Let us ever glory in the cross of Christ
And the triumph of God’s great love.

(copyright 2000, OCP)

During this season of Lent, may we remember that it’s not All About Us. It’s not about whether we can abide giving up chocolate, or soda, or colored sprinkles. These sacrifices are small potatoes indeed when we meditate on what Christ was willing to do for our sakes.

May we walk through this Lent with a joyful spirit.

Saint Bernardine of Siena wrote that Saint Francis once said:

May the fiery and honey-sweet power of your love, O Lord, wean me from all things under heaven, so that I may die for love of your love, who deigned to die for love of my love.

worth revisit

I’m linking up with Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for #WorthRevisit Wednesday, a place where you can come and bring a past & treasured post to share, and link up with fellow bloggers!