It has been a very busy couple of weeks for me. My Secular Franciscan fraternity and friars of my parish were planning and preparing our celebration of the Transitus of St. Francis. It was the most solemn celebration I can recall in recent memory. As part of our service, we had six characters who encountered Francis speak about their relationship. I went first, speaking in the person of St. Clare–the first woman to follow his simple way and whose community is the Poor Clare nuns. I feel that I really bonded with her last year–even taking a book with me to Rome last October that I’d begun and couldn’t put down. Her encounter with Francis was life changing to her and I have a feeling she approached things one day at a time. When she first heard his preaching in the piazza near her home, I don’t think she could have imagined how it would all play out in the end. I don’t know that she saw her days lived out in a cloister. Francis’ way of life — for a woman — was unheard of in that day. At the end, Francis told his brothers that “I have done what was mine to do. Now you do what is yours to do.” Clare went the way that was hers to go–cloistered at San Damiano–the church most special to Francis as it is the first church he repaired — where the Cross spoke to him.
Then, there is Lady “Brother” Jacoba, a widow who lived Francis’ way of life of the Secular Order. Besides the Blessed Mother Mary and is own mother, Lady Pica — Clare and Brother Jacoba are probably the two most important women of his poor little way. Brother Jacoba delivered the items needed for burial — a new habit, candles, incense, and her own special almond cookies that Francis loved. Brother Jacoba is recorded to be there when he died — Clare was not. Poor Clare. But, Clare did see him one last time as the brothers brought his body by San Damiano. Surely there are facts and there are legends — but it is written there, as we read our character accounts at our Transitus — St. Clare and Lady “Brother” Jaboba. We venerated a first class relic and shared bread — bread that I gave away since I just found out I am wheat intolerant. We had a wonderful reception following the Transitus. I went home to begin again early on Sunday, October 4th……
I feel that I came full circle in my faith life — the Feast of St. Francis on Sunday, October 4th coincided with the 50th anniversary of the Baptist church where I grew up. I began the morning at 9:00Am Mass and stayed through the 10:45Am Mass homily — I wanted to hear both on the Feast of St. Francis. Being a Franciscan parish, we had permission to celebrate the Feast at all the Sunday Masses. After that, I did what I had not done in ten years — I headed up to the Baptist church to join in the anniversary celebration. I saw people I had not seen in over ten years.
One of my old youth group members is now a pastor. He delivered a sermon that asked, “Jesus paid a great price on the cross for our salvation — when Jesus bought you, did he get a lemon?” He went on to describe the ways in which professed Christians become “lemons” — wanting it all for no effort of their own. I’ll remember that little analogy for a long time. Lemons want great church programs but do not want to participate when they are provided. Lemons want a beautiful sanctuary but do not tithe. Lemons think the homeless should be fed but do not want to ladle the soup. All the lemons expect to be in heaven one day.
The day was nearly over before one person — only one person the whole afternoon — sidled up next to me and whispered, “I hear you are Catholic?” Yes. ” What is it about the Catholic Church?” I had mere nanoseconds to respond that it is the celebration of Mass — Jesus is not just a symbol. I told him that a Catholic friend had helped me with some questions and suggested I go to a Mass. It was the one Mass I attended and knew I wanted that Communion. Jesus is not just a symbol — and — we do predate the Protestant Reformation. That is as good as my nanoseconds allowed for a semi-thoughtful response.
So, at the end of the day, I’d heard two homilies and two and a half sermons and avoided wheat at the buffet lunch. I saw three eras of youth ministers, my prom date, and a couple other crushes from my teens. I’ve kind of lived my life one day at a time. I never would have expected to be where I am today. I live more on the interior than the exterior. God has illumined my path one step at a time. I have been to amazing places and seen great things — especially in the last ten years. At the end of the day, I was very happy with my life.
I began this year writing about Mary and how Secular Franciscans should “express their ardent love for the Virgin Mary” (The Rule of the Secular Franciscan Order, 9) My fraternity received a precious gift this year — the gift of a beautiful — and large — statue of Mary. We brought her to our Fall retreat at the Monastery in Conyers. We brought her to our fraternity meeting yesterday. We decided that she will go home with a different person every month along with a prayer journal — kind of like the Elijah Cup for priestly vocations. I got her this month and set her up in my bedroom. I wonder if she will talk to me like she talked to St. Therese of Lisieux?
Come let us worship the Lord in the company of his angels…
– Liturgy of the Hours – Sept 29 Feast of the Archangels
As I’m writing this, tomorrow is the Feast of the Archangels; Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael. I was a big fan of the television series, Touched By An Angel. The Christian bookstore carried merchandise from the show. Some ten years ago, I bought a Touched By An Angel perpetual calendar — a small flip stand. It is always on my desk though it is not there to remind me of the day. In fact, I may go days or weeks without flipping a page. The calendar is there when I need it — a moment of stress — a moment of thanks — a moment of reassurance that God is in control. I read it today.
How do people do it? They get up every morning and start all over again. It takes a lot of courage to do that … and they don’t even know what angels know.
I recently attended the Annual Regional Gathering of my Secular Franciscan region. I shopped in the Franciscan book store and signed up for adoration. We had perpetual adoration throughout the weekend. I bought a book, “Quiet Moments with Padre Pio,” and took it with me to adoration. I took several things with me to the adoration chapel — expecting to read, or, pray the rosary. But, I’d just come from a session that talked about the discipline of listening. Where best to listen than in the adoration chapel. I opened the Padre Pio book to the first page and read:
Don’t Worry About Tomorrow – July 4, 1917 letter to Capuchin seminarians
I recommend to you to have a firm and general proposal to always serve God with all your heart; do not worry about tomorrow. Think about doing good today. And when tomorrow comes, it will be today and then you can think about it. Trust in Providence. It is necessary to make provisions of Manna for only one day and no more. Remember the people of Israel in the desert.
I closed the book and looked at Jesus exposed in the monstrance before me — I thought of the living bread from heaven discourses in our Gospel readings. I began to talk to Jesus in my journal.
What if God has given me more Manna than I need? I desire to share my portion with those I love. But, what if I must hand them chopsticks with which to eat and they do not know how? Do I find the fork and a knife? Do I get a spoon and feed them like my child? How do I share my great portion with those who do not know how to receive it?
I wept bitter tears of sorrow over the things which I have no control.
Today we read John chapter 6 — “Eat my flesh” repeated over and over. “My flesh is true food and my blood is true drink.” So, I recall the days when I tried to see this — to understand this — to realize that I already believed. Today, I realized in a different way what a special grace it is to move from symbols to True Presence. Today, I also learned the answer to my question; I use the spoon.
I vacationed in St. Augustine Florida last week. I dedicated one day to sit on the beach and set up my umbrella and chairs. The beach is a place where I feel the greatness of God. Standing on the beach, I become a tiny grain of sand. I feel that God is in control and I am like the flower that neither toils nor spins (Luke 12:24). I need to be reminded of this because I so often sorrow over the things that are out of my control. I wade out, over waist deep and watch for the waves — catching them before they crest — jumping — safely floating over and watching for the next one. Sometimes, I was watching the shore and the wave slapped me in the back of the head — salty water finding its way behind my sunglasses and stinging my eyes. So much like life — the things I sorrow over with bitter salty tears. I give up and walk back to shore. The umbrella oasis is abandoned for lunch. God will still be here when I get back.
I return later and cower under the umbrella oasis — journal in hand — alone — intending to write the wonders of spiritual wave watching. My eyes wander. ‘Why do people wear what they wear on the beach?’, I wonder to myself. I open my journal and feel the coolness of the paper. My pen to the paper and… I am distracted — four ladies chattering on their blankets near by — smoking and sipping margaritas from the poolside Tiki Bar. They tell each other their stories — I try not to listen. They get up for another swim in the ocean. My pen to the paper again and…. I think the family to my left is French. They call out to their little daughter who wants to run to the ocean and is half way there. I studied French years ago and I try to hear what they are saying. The daughter is scooped up and brought back to their blanket. My pen to the paper again and…. There is this woman covered head to toe in fabric — long sleeved shirt, leggings, hat, scarf, and sneakers — obviously sensitive to the sun but unable to resist the beach. She walks to the life guard stand and gestures out to the ocean. The life guard speaks into his phone and a truck arrives with two more life guards. Two helicopters make sweeps up and down the coast two or three times. I never find out exactly what happened. My pen to the paper again and ….. The four ladies come back from the water and stretch out once more — chattering. One is extolling the benefits of the diet meal delivery plan she is on — it cost less per month than the grocery store. I don’t know her so I don’t know if it is working but she is enthusiastic. They get up and begin packing their things. My pen to the paper again and.… One of the ladies walks near to me and says, “You are writing in a journal. I write in one too, now, ever since I had a near death experience in January.” Curious now and to encourage more, I respond, “Yes, and this is a wonderful place to write.” She continued moving to keep up with her friends, saying to me, “Oh, I will be back out here tomorrow.” The assumption that perhaps she would tell me more tomorrow. I didn’t have a chance to tell her I was leaving in the morning to go home.
I noticed then that many more people had left. Just as the solitude I’d sought was at hand — I heard thunder and saw the threatening clouds. I closed my journal and began to pack away my umbrella oasis. I was no longer thinking about what people were wearing on the beach, or, diets. A bit miffed at myself for my earlier superficiality; I was wondering about the rest of that story.
I guess I am making this a Rich Mullins trilogy. This is another favorite song. Whenever I hear this music, I am taken immediately to adoration of the Eucharist. My mind can travel right to the monstrance, or, I can bring to mind the procession of the monstrance at our Eucharistic Congress. The video below is a live version from a concert. In fact, it follows the other live video that I posted in I Belive What I Believe. This version is a little ‘unplugged’ compared to the CD — begins a little out of sync — comes together and builds. The version I listen to in my car — well — I turn it up loud with slightly more bass. The bass brings out the drums and this is why I also think of the Eucharistic procession.
The lyrics begin by talking about the way God made himself present in the Old Testament — “a cloud by day, and in the night, the glow of a burning flame and everywhere I go, I see you.” Lyrics
