A Mosaic

Six years ago today, my father passed away at the age of 71 following injuries sustained in an accident 10 days previously. In the blurry days that followed, my family and I were comforted by the extraordinarily good support of family, friends and colleagues, and bolstered by the memories of and lessons learned from an extraordinary man that we were blessed to share our lives with. That the loss was so great was a measure of the man – he left a big space in our lives.

A month or so later when I was back in San Francisco where I was living at the time, I had a routine check-up appointment with a doctor I hadn’t met previously. I spoke to her about my dad, and it turns out her mother had also died from a car accident, a number of years before. We spoke of the great comfort in that our parents had had the opportunity to meet and know our respective partners – I love the fact that my dad knew and loved my now husband. And she said to me that in the aftermath of her mother’s passing, it was like her life was a tile that had been thrown up in the air and smashed to pieces; she said it took about three years to put things back together and that now it was not the same as before but rather a mosaic. I really appreciated talking to someone who had experienced such a similar loss, but also thought no way, my life is not going to be broken for three years, I have things to do, I’m on a path.

Six years later, I now understand – the path is there, but it has been broken and crooked, with many a dead-end and turnaround, and at times, I have felt so mired in inertia that I could say nothing has really happened in a long time. This is, of course, not true – some of the greatest joys of my life have happened since my father’s death – my wedding and the birth of my son most especially. And the tremendous gift of those days was the not missing him because he was so clearly present to me, in such a real and easy way, that there was nothing to miss. But other times have been harder – my dad was one of those rare individuals who seemed to know so much and do so much good, but in a very easy, real way – not having him to lean on meant I have had to learn an awful lot about myself, and see myself not reflected in his eyes, a reflection that always removed the rough edges, but as I am. I also realise what a very blessed and privileged life I have led that the greatest tragedy I have experienced was the loss of someone who had truly lived a full life.

I supposed what I have learnt most of all is that sometimes we just stay still for a long time, and that’s ok. I can’t pretend to be comfortable with this – as someone who has marked life by a competitive drive to the next achievement, time not spent getting ahead feels like time lost. But what we are reminded of during this Advent season, a time of waiting and anticipation but also quiet and inward reflection, is that God measures things differently. My dad’s life was a lesson in this – what made him great was not that he was perfect, but rather that he consistently and relentlessly chose to do good, do for others, do more, often in difficult circumstances. And it wasn’t that he rose to the top of a profession, though in fact he was at a time at the top of his second career, one dedicated to helping those with special needs – it was that he led with thought for other, and everything followed from there. I don’t always see where I’m going clearly, but I do know I have a great advocate for me always, and also that God is endlessly patient, waiting with us, wanting the best for us, and understanding.

The prayer we chose for my father’s memorial card by John Henry Cardinal Newman sums up so much of what my dad taught us in life; I pray it today, and am very grateful for all my dad’s life taught us.

God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good; I shall do His work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it if I do but keep His commandments. Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him, in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him. If I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me. Still, He knows what He is about.

Ears to Hear and Faith to Submit

Today’s Old Testament reading comes from the book of Samuel. In this reading, we gain insight not only into God’s relationship with King David, but also into God’s plan for what He calls David’s “family.” Through the prophet, Nathan, David learns that God will raise up his offspring and establish his kingdom which will have no end. We know that God was referring to Jesus, but David did not. After hearing all that God revealed to him, David prayed, “Who am I, O Sovereign Lord, and what is my family that you have brought me so far?” My favorite part of David’s prayer is when he thanks God for revealing his plan to him. Even though David has no idea what lays in store for his “offspring,” he trusts in the word of God that “the house of God’s servant will be blessed forever.” God’s word gives David courage and peace. David has a close relationship with God. He prays often and is humble before God. He listens to His word, and even though David does not fully understand what God is revealing to him, he is comforted by God’s presence in his life.

I often pray that I can recognize God’s word in my life. Sometimes, it is hard to focus on what God is telling me. Sometimes I let my busy life be an excuse for why I can’t hear Him. However, if I would just slow down and listen, my busy life would not seem so overwhelming. Like David, I too would find peace and courage in the fact that God is here to look out for me and my family. It is so important to put our relationship with God first in our lives.

In Luke’s gospel, Mary is surprised by Gabriel the Archangel’s greeting. He says, “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you.” Mary was greatly troubled by the angel’s greeting. “Do not be afraid,” he says, “you have found favor with God.” Mary was a woman of great faith, but even she must have been shaken by these words. Upon hearing God’s plan for her, that she would bear a child who would be “the Son of the Most High,” she too was humbled like King David. But, despite her fear and uncertainty, Mary agreed to become the mother of Jesus. “I am the handmaiden of the Lord,” she said. “Let it be done to me as you have said.”

The faith and trust that Mary had in God was immense. In order to agree to such a thing, she had to put her life in God’s hands. Yet we are only asked to have faith the size of a mustard seed, and if we do, we can move mountains. Dear Lord, let us have ears to hear your plan and faith to submit to your plan for us all.

- AAB

Rewards

As a kid, I always loved when the pink candle joined in on the Advent wreath. Gaudete Sunday – rejoicing in joyful anticipation of the Savior’s birth, and a rosy glow added to the waiting purple. We had a beautiful wreath that my dad made, and it lived in our kitchen on an endtable. Most evenings before dinner, we would light the candles and do the day’s reading from an Advent book, and then my mom would give us straw to add to the middle of the wreath. The straw was for the manger and would provide a soft resting place for the baby Jesus – IF we were good enough! The portioning out of straw was a sort of reward system for good deeds – I can remember many a time when my pile was particularly pitiful, and worrying that maybe I’d better get my act together for there to be enough straw to add to the Nativity. Amazingly, by the end of Advent, the pile of straw was always full, every year – either we got a bit better as Advent went along, or the giver of the straw gave us a bit of a break! As Advent and Christmas preparations move forward with just over a week to go, I pray that my motivation to ‘add more straw’ increases, and I trust that God who gives all rewards is most generous always.

Advent Balance

The world does not usually remember number 2. Unless you are the parent of a preschool-aged child, rarely do we applaud and extol anything other than being the top dog. A television commercial for some unmemorable phone gives a great one minute montage on the perils of being second best. They are unsuccessfully chasing the glitterific iPhone, and I can’t even remember the name of their product which I am mentioning here. The world does not remember number 2s. It is with that in mind that I came to this week’s readings.

John’s Gospel begins by telling us that John the Baptist “was not the light, / but came to testify to the light.” The world might think this less than remarkable. We might like to be the light — not just the guy who goes around talking about the light. But John seems very content with his station. He openly recognizes that there is “one who will come after me, whose sandal strap I am not worthy to untie.” He does not seem jealous or ambitious to be that one. He is content to be who he is - content with his role in the larger plan. Good for you, John.

My mother was born on June 24th, the feast day of John the Baptist. She has a connection with JtB because of this. John the Baptist has always struck me as an interesting cat. Admittedly, my knowledge of him draws from Elementary and High School Religion classes. I envision him as the son of a very old (probably at least 20) and likely unfertile mother. I remember that he leapt in his mother’s womb upon meeting the newly pregnant Mary. I know that he lives in the dessert, eats locust and honey, wears hairshirts, and is ultimately beheaded. Without knowing much, I always knew that John and Jesus had a special relationship. Loosely translated and debatable is the fact that they were cousins. Growing up, I was envious of friends who were close with their cousins. They seemed to share a special bond that I did not have. As I watch my girls develop that special cousin relationship, I am convinced that I was right to yearn for it. A cousin is basically a sibling who does not share your home, answer to your mother, or compete with you. It really has its perks. In my imagination, John and Jesus were close cousins. I bet Biblical scholars would debate this fact, but it always helped me to understand their unique relationship.

Just as I was settling into the notion that we don’t have to follow the world’s foolish calls to be remembered, the second reading from Thessalonians comes screaming in with standards of greatness. “In all circumstances give thanks”, “rejoice always” and “pray without ceasing”. Not only should we do these things, but we are told how to do them – always and without ceasing. There does not seem to be much margin for slacking. This reading tells us that to do these things at this level “is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus.” I like that God has high standards for us. I like that we are called to offer our best game.

As I prepare my heart this week for the miracle of love that arrives in Jesus’ birth, I will try to balance John’s humility with Thessalonians call to excellence. It will be a familiar struggle for me, but this week it will feel more meaningful because I will remember that is my Advent preparation.
–KLG

Time

A year after my father passed away, I had just moved to England and went to Mass (actually a Communion Service as it was celebrated by the parish’s permanent deacon) on his anniversary. After the service, I introduced myself to the deacon and said how meaningful it had been to me. He said, ‘Well then, I’ve offered that Mass for your father. I am absolutely convinced there is no time with God.’ His words have always stuck with me – the idea that when we come to God, God is always ready and waiting for us and that our human construct of time doesn’t worry God in the slightest. Oftentimes when I have remembered something important that already happened that I had meant to pray about, I go ahead and do so anyway, thinking about this idea that any time you come to God, it ‘counts’ for the intention for which you pray.

Today as we celebrate the Second Sunday of Advent and hear again the story of John the Baptist preparing the way for Jesus, we also are told in the Second Reading (2 Pt 3:8-14) that “with the Lord one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like one day. The Lord does not delay his promise, as some regard ‘delay,’ but he is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance.” Peter goes on to say that as we await “new heavens and a new earth” to “be eager to be found without spot or blemish before him, at peace.” It is a helpful concept in this season of waiting and preparation to think of God as waiting for us, too. Not as a sort of ‘get out of jail free’ card in that we can do what we like and come to God in the end; on the contrary, the message of this Sunday is very much about preparing ourselves for the coming of the Lord. But rather the idea that as we travel through our lives with ups and downs and detours in the journey, God is constantly calling for us and waiting with patience – wanting the best both from and for us, but not counting time and rushing and getting to the destination the way we so often do. With God the waiting is gentle and constant, always prepared to be there for us and with us. I pray in this season of anticipation that I, too, prepare myself to receive the Lord in the celebration of His birth.

The House Upon the Rock

In a playgroup that my son and I used to attend, they did a song version of today’s Gospel, ‘The Wise Man Built His House.’ It was a lot of fun, with signs for all the phrases, but not knowing either the parable or the song well, I kept getting my signs mixed up and late. For me it’s a bit like the message of the Gospel itself – it should be very simple – you need to know where your strong ground is and build your life up around that, and then you will be safe and secure when tests arise. But, like not knowing the words or the signs, it’s much harder in practice to build a life up around that which is good and strong. So many things seem to compete for our attention – during this season of Advent, I would most like to be focusing on the calm and quiet time as the winter draws in, a chance to reflect on the immense and peaceful gift that the Lord’s birth brings to the world, drawing each of us closer to personal relationship with God. But in front of me is a mountain of work that needs clearing before the year is up, presents to be bought and wrapped, parties to be attended – all fine and good things in themselves, but also a distraction from the more important, more substantial things in life. Spending real time with my family, just being there and bring present is a real value that I feel I miss so often in the more ephemeral distractions that present themselves on a daily basis. Tonight, my son was in great spirits and though I’d had a tiring day, we had an excellent few hours, just chasing each other around the house, having dinner and rocking out to the music he chose to put on – he completely drew me out of my worries and stress and reminded me that life is in the here and now. I know other things will pull my attention over the coming days, but I’m trying to remind myself that the real joy I experience in life is when I concentrate on that which is the core of my life, and then the rest really just falls into place.