Change

Change – Are You Ready to Let Go?

It serves us well to remember that while the sun greets each day and the moon bids it farewell, each day is not the same. Though the hours in a day remain the same, each day offers countless possibilities and opportunities. In order to pursue or partake of them, though, often requires one to make a change.

While we do need some things to be consistent and to have some structure, it is often good to re-evaluate our routines. Are there ways in which I have become closed off to that which is new or different? Is there room for change?

Change… Why is change so hard for some and seemingly not for others? Perhaps it is because there is often more to the story than meets the eye. Sometimes the need for change may not be recognized. Other times when we shy away from it, “resistance to change” is often the roommate of “struggling to let go.”

Usually one must let go of something, or perhaps multiple things, in order to make space for what is new or different. What that thing is can vary greatly. It might be a person, job, house, car or another material possession; or it might be something intangible such as an attitude or a perspective. Sometimes it can be hard to realize that whatever I cannot let go, “owns” me in some way, and, as long as it does, I will not be free to choose or be open to change.

A number of years ago as I prepared to direct my first weekend retreat, I recall feeling a sense of pressure – or greater responsibility – at the thought of working with people for such a short period of time. In looking more closely at what was going on and with a little help, I was able to recognize and name the worldly notion onto which I was holding: that somehow I alone was responsible for a fruitful weekend. Yes, my role as a spiritual director was important, and I needed to be mindful of that, but I also needed to remember that, ultimately, I was not “in charge” and the One who was, was more than capable. In doing so, I felt a greater sense of freedom and could carry on pressure-free as I met with retreatants. Letting go in this way enabled me to be more open. It also enabled me to be more patient with both myself and each retreatant, as if our time together would be endless, trusting that all desires brought to prayer are heard and responded to in time regardless of whether or not I had the privilege to witness the entire process. As the saying goes, I “let go and let God.”

Failing to let go of whatever may be holding us back, is like closing the door not only to change, but also to what may await on the horizon. We live in a world that tells us there is one shot to get it “right” and if we miss, we are out of luck. However, if we look to creation we can see that this is not true. Luckily, or rather blessedly, we often get more than one chance to rise to the occasion and embrace change.

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SDIBlog

What’s The Story?

“Everyone has a story to tell.” These were the words on a t-shirt. Yes, there is a story behind and within everyone as well as everything. The t-shirt was striking. It was black and the words white. It was reminiscent of a chalkboard, from younger days, that would be erased at the end of each day. In a blank state, it held promise and possibility for the day to come…a new day, another chance.

Over the past week or so, further signs of spring (flowers pushing through the earth, a bounty of singing birds, warming temperatures and more) have been appearing here and there. Along with the bursts of color and sound, life is renewed in both what is new and what is old. In looking more closely, there is often more than what is initially revealed. There waits a story, perhaps a message, beyond what meets the eye or turns the ear.

Every year in New England, as season’s change, nature’s slate, although not erased or hidden completely, changes also. It gives way to birth and re-birth in so many ways. There is something new with each day even when we cannot see it or do not notice it. So often, spring seems to blossom out of nowhere, yet we know it has been in the making all winter long, and carrying over from year to year. Our lives are similar. We are offered opportunities with each hour, each day, and each year. Whether we fully realize it or not, each day in a sense is a fresh start…a blank slate…an empty canvas. How we see it and what we fill it with… what we put on it, is up to us.

Sometimes knowingly, sometimes not, we resist the call to change. We resist the Way that seeks to bring us, one day at a time, one moment at a time, into fullness of life…into wholeness. “Everyone has a story tell,” and what a story it can be when we embrace who we truly are. When we remember how blessed we are.

“In your offspring, all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”
– God to Abraham as written in Acts 3:25

PurpleFlowers

Newman…

Through a series of changes, I recently had the opportunity to learn about the life of John Henry Newman. I found his story to be fascinating. Living in England for almost all his life, the change that resulted from his conversion was huge. He faced great challenges in going from the Anglican Church to the Roman Catholic Church.

John Henry Newman’s road went from childhood to Trinity College, Oxford student to vicar, teacher, preacher and writer at Oxford University to Roman Catholic priest and eventually Cardinal. He was a great theologian; first in the Anglican tradition and then in the Roman Catholic tradition. When he became a Roman Catholic priest though his entire life was turned upside down. He could no longer teach, preach or write at Oxford and because of his prominent Anglican position prior to his conversion he was seen as suspect within the Roman Catholic hierarchy. Essentially, all that he knew was taken away from him. Many of his relationships were severed and he was stripped of his teaching position and the prestige that went along with it. However, amidst these very big changes, his desire and resolve to seek and live a life of truth did not change.

John Henry Newman remained faithful and true to God and what he felt God was calling him to, throughout his life. We are called to do the same. Despite his less than favorable status with the Pope at the time of his conversion (Pius IX), he carried on and kept following his conscience. We are also called to follow our conscience. When Pope Pius IX died and the next Pope (Leo XIII) came along, Newman was named Cardinal even though he was not a Bishop and he was not a resident in Rome.

When John Henry Newman was named Cardinal, he took the motto “Cor ad cor loquitur” (“Heart speaks to heart”). How fitting for someone who was, and still is, in many ways a champion of the authority of the Church—God.

“It is indeed sometimes said that the stream is clearest near the spring. Whatever use may fairly be made of this image, it does not apply to the history of a philosophy or belief, which on the contrary is more equable, and purer, and stronger, when its bed has become deep, and broad, and full. It necessarily rises out of an existing state of things, and for a time savours of the soil. Its vital element needs disengaging from what is foreign and temporary, and is employed in efforts after freedom which become more vigorous and hopeful as its years increase. Its beginnings are no measure of its capabilities, nor of its scope. At first no one knows what it is, or what it is worth. It remains perhaps for a time quiescent; it tries, as it were, its limbs, and proves the ground under it, and feels its way. From time to time it makes essays which fail, and are in consequence abandoned. It seems in suspense which way to go; it wavers, and at length strikes out in one definite direction. In time it enters upon strange territory; points of controversy alter their bearing; parties rise and around it; dangers and hopes appear in new relations; and old principles reappear under new forms. It changes with them in order to remain the same. In a higher world it is otherwise, but here below to live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often.” – Blessed John Henry Newman

Polished Stones…

PLUM2G

I woke up this morning with a U2 song in my head. I was particularly struck by the line, “The sea throws rocks together but time, leaves us polished stones.” As I look at stones collected from a local beach over the past number of years, I love how all the stones, of different shapes, sizes and colors, share a smooth texture. Sometimes I wonder from where each stone may have originated. How far did each one travel along its journey from out in the deep ocean to the sands of the beach? The stones, no matter where they came from or how they started out, all came to be smooth by being tossed about in the sea.

It is interesting how in the same way that the friction caused by water against stone and stone against stone has smoothed the edges over time, adversity can smooth our edges. Adversity can lead to growth.

It seems human nature to prefer the moments of smooth sailing, keeping quiet and avoiding potential conflict. However, as I reflect, it seems like so much more growth comes from moments of standing in the ocean and moving with the waves as they ebb and flow, as they rise and fall with the tide, and crash around during storm surges. Carrying hope in my heart and a desire to be all that I can be (and all that I was created to be) deep within my soul, I am able to own who I am. With each wave, through God’s grace and with openness and acceptance, the jagged edges are smoothed away. I am made new.

“Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching…” – Ephesians 4:14

Ordinary Love by U2

The sea wants to kiss the golden shore.
The sunlight warms your skin.
All the beauty that’s been lost before, wants to find us again.
I can’t fight you anymore; it’s you I’m fighting for.
The sea throws rocks together but time, leaves us polished stones.

We can’t fall any further if, we can’t feel ordinary love.
And we cannot reach any higher, if we can’t deal with ordinary love.

Birds fly high in the summer sky and rest on the breeze.
The same wind will take care of you and I, we’ll build our house in the trees.
Your heart is on my sleeve, did you put it there with a magic marker.
For years I would believe, that the world, couldn’t wash it away.

Cause we can’t fall any further if, we can’t feel ordinary love.
And we cannot reach any higher, if we can’t deal with ordinary love.

Are we tough enough, for ordinary love?

We can’t fall any further if, we can’t feel ordinary love.
And we cannot reach any higher, if we can’t deal with ordinary love.

Are we tough enough, for ordinary love?
Are we tough enough, for ordinary love?
Are we tough enough, for ordinary love?

Tradition, Tradition…Tradition!

A number of years ago I went to see a production of Fiddler on the Roof at a local theatre. Since then, every so often I catch the movie, usually at some point after the beginning or midway thru, on television. In fact, it has become somewhat of a regular occurrence for me to see or listen to at least part, if not all, of Fiddler on the Roof once or twice a year…Ah, tradition!

As this past year wound down and we moved from Thanksgiving through New Year’s Day, tradition has been very much in the air. I guess it is every year though. However, as I live and breathe, and think about tradition, I cannot help but “feel” tradition.

Tradition is so much more than the same thing over and over, and over. The heart and soul of it is the spirit of it…the sentiment, memories and feelings that accompany tradition. It is not all about keeping everything the same as it was before, but rather about coming together in the same spirit as before.

Continuing to ponder tradition, I envision the lighting of the torch at the Olympic Games. While the games always start with the lighting of the torch and end with the extinguishing of the flame, these two events and pretty much everything in between are never really the same from one Olympic Games to another. The location, costumes, and uniforms change. Sometimes variations are made to the rules or scoring rubrics and events are added or dropped.

As I sit with this image, it seems to me that one surefire way to kill a tradition is to keep it unchanged, year after year, after year. As time goes by, the focus may shift from the spirit of the tradition to the material of the tradition (the things and steps involved in making it all happen the same way). When that happens, the Spirit is shutout and the decline begins. Then tradition cannot help but lose what makes it special, becoming rote and more of a chore than something to which one looks forward or wants to embrace and celebrate.

Simply put, without substance and without room for change or growth, anything, even the most cherished tradition, will eventually become extinct. All things evolve.

“Tradition, which is always old, is at the same time ever new because it is always reviving – born again in each new generation, to be lived and applied in a new and particular way…Tradition nourishes the life of the spirit; convention merely disguises its interior decay.” – Thomas Merton

OlympicTorch

A Time To Change…

A few weeks ago, I collected some chestnuts. They were ones that had fallen to the ground prematurely and were still in their green, prickly burl or shell. Initially I thought I would use shellac to preserve them. That did not work though. The shells still turned brown and the chestnut within, which was not yet fully developed, shrunk so that it rattles inside upon shaking the shell.

I went back to the same spot more recently and there was a windfall of fully developed beautiful, smooth, brown chestnuts on the grass all around these two chestnut trees. In addition, there were some green, prickly shells, bigger than the ones I had picked earlier. “A-ha!” I thought as I picked up as many chestnuts as I could hold as well as some of the shells. This time I would refrigerate them to try to preserve them.

Well, the chestnuts were preserved, but the green shells continued to ripen and eventually cracked open. Overall, it seemed that there was nothing that I could do to preserve the chestnut shells as I found them—green and prickly.

ChetsnutBurlsOnTree

However, each day as I looked in the refrigerator, I could see the green prickly shell gradually changing to brown. The prickles remained, but seams formed along the shell and eventually began to split open, revealing a smooth, beautiful chestnut inside. Looking back over the journey, I cannot help but think how cool it was to see what was waiting for me each day as I opened the refrigerator.                ChestnutShellBrnOpening

ChestnutShellGrnOpening

In the end, I had chestnuts and shells exactly as they were meant to be. Not in my time, or exactly my way (preserved—green and prickly), but in God’s time and in God’s way. No sooner…no later…but perfect. How Divine!

Chestnuts1

There is an appointed time for everything,
and a time for every affair under the heavens.
– Ecclesiastes 3:1

 

Letting God Out of the Box…

Driving the length of the New Jersey Turnpike with the many exits, all numbered and some with A, B, or C, E or W tacked on after the number, I take notice of all the different roads that one might choose. I think of all the different paths and possibilities throughout life, not only for me and my husband, but also for our children. As we navigate the challenges, the joys and the sorrows of life, and the busyness of the world in which we live, it seems the best thing my husband and I can do for ourselves and our children, is to help them to know about God and to teach and encourage them to pray; that is, to help them to have a relationship with God. In fact, of all the things my husband and I might give to our son and daughter, or that they might acquire for themselves, prayer and relationship with God is the one thing that no one can ever take away from them.

Looking out the window as we continue to drive along, I think back to a time, when prayer in my life was just a cursory thing and relationship with God was a foreign concept. I recall one day, thinking and feeling that God was so distant…so far removed. Did God even care about the daily happenings of my life? Weren’t they too small for God compared to all other things?

I recall a conversation in which it became clear to me that my ongoing restlessness probably had something to do with where I was placing God in my life. If my life was a baseball diamond, it was as if God was way over in the bullpen, on standby, instead of behind the plate, calling the pitches. I started to think about, and to imagine, what it might be like to have God leading the way. The more I thought about it, the more I started to feel like I wanted God to be at the center of my life. The only problem was that I didn’t know where to begin. Other than attending Sunday Mass, praying before meals, and thanking God for all that I had and praying for other people at bedtime, I wasn’t aware that there were other ways of praying, or even that it was okay for me to pray for myself.

At the suggestion of a good friend, and the encouragement of a Spiritual Director, though, I began by simply spending more time in conversation with God. At first, just talking to God, wherever and whenever, seemed strange to me. So I started by going to daily Mass as often as I could and somewhere in the time leading up to Communion I would express my desire for God to be at the center of my life and for God to guide me and lead me. As time went on, I found myself more at ease and wanting to know more about God and God’s Word. I started to spend more time reading Scripture and praying with Scripture; setting aside time for quiet reflection and asking God to help me to see and hear more clearly. I also started to become more familiar with other parishioners and one day, one of the women at daily Mass asked me if I wanted to go downstairs after Mass for the women’s prayer group. I was unsure, but decided to give it a try, and before long it became a regular weekly activity.

What I did not know then, was that God was answering my prayers. God was placing me with people who, through prayer and sharing, were helping me to witness God and God’s ways in everyday life, making God seem closer than ever. In the years since I first had that conversation about God being in the bullpen, I have developed a relationship with God that is far greater than I could have ever imagined. It is like having the best GPS one could ever have.

NJTP

Who is this guy?

This week I find myself wondering…How do I respond to “the new” and “the different”?

“After John had been arrested,
Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming the gospel of God:
‘This is the time of fulfillment.
The kingdom of God is at hand.
Repent, and believe in the gospel.’” – MK 1:14-15

John has been arrested and now Jesus shows up on the scene. What would my attitude be in this situation? If I had been a follower of John the Baptist, how would I have received and responded to “the new guy”?

I suspect I would have previously heard John saying that there was one to come after him, the one for whom he was preparing the way, but would I have recognized Jesus as the one about whom John was speaking?

As I put myself in this scene, I see and hear this guy, who not only looks very different, but also speaks and acts very differently than John. Would I have recognized his message as being the same message that John was speaking? Or, would I have been distracted by the fact that this new guy looked, and spoke, and acted in a manner so different from John?

Would I have given Jesus a chance?

As I look beyond this passage, I wonder, how do I receive and respond to “the new guy,” to the new and the different in my everyday life? More specifically, I think about my parish and the transition through which we are going.

The facts…We are now part of a collaborative; three parishes grouped together. We now have a single pastor responsible for all three churches. Altogether we have the pastor and two other priests who have accepted assignment to our collaborative. While for parishioners, the location remains the same, all three priests are new to the towns involved. On top of that, all three parishes, had previously had their own pastor. Each of whom had been in place for a good number of years. Long enough for everyone to be comfortable with each other.

So now, like John the Baptist’s followers, we are all in a new and different situation. All being asked to let go of the familiar and be open to the new and the different. All being asked to embrace change.

There may be new and different faces and schedules, but am I able to see and to stay connected to the fact that the message, the Good News…Eucharist…the desire to build community and to walk as God’s people, is the same? And, am I able to give the new and the different a chance to be new and different and, perhaps just as wonderful, maybe even better than the old?

JohnTheBaptist              Jesus