A reminder for Lent

The common theme of these three readings from Benedictus: Day by Day with Pope Benedict XVI speaks to me this Lent: Lent is not a self-help program. It is a time to open ourself to the love of God, to the love of others, and to love for God and others. A good reminder to be more Other-focused, more humble, less self-centered - but only possible with grace.

"The purpose of Lent is to keep alive in our consciousness and our life the fact the being a Christian can only take the form of becoming a Christian ever anew; that it is not an event now over and done with but a process requiring constant practice. . . . The human person is the being which does not become itself automatically. . . It becomes itself always and only by struggling against the tendency simply to vegetate and by dint of a discipline that is able to rise about the pressures of routine and to liberate the self from the compulsions of utilitarian goals and instincts. Our world is so full of what immediately impinges on our senses that we are in danger of seeing only details and losing sight of the whole. It takes effort to see beyond what is right in front of us and to free oursleves from the tyranny of what directly presses upon us." ...

"No one becomes a Christian by his own unaided power. No one can make himself a Christian. It is not within the human being's power to shape himself as it were into a great-souled person and finally into a Christian. On the contrary, the process of becoming a Christian begins only with a person sloughs off any illusion of independence and self-sufficiency; when he or she acknowledges that human beings do not create themselves and cannot bring themselves to fulfillment but must open themselves and allow themselves to be led, as it were, to their own true selves. To be a Christian, then, means first and foremost that we acknowledge our own insufficiency and allow him -- the Other who is God -- to act in us"

and finally:
"...the proper attitude to one's I grows spontaneously in an atmosphere of freedom from self. We might well speak here of an anthropological circle: to the degree that we seek only for ourselves, try to realize our own potential, and are concerned solely with the success and fulfillment of our I, to that same degree this I becomes disagreeable, irritable, and repugnant. . . Only the yes that comes to me from a you makes it possible for me to say yes to myself in and through this you. The I realizes itself through a you."

Chasing after fleeing time

Remember I complained about no drama? Suddenly there is so much going on that I can't really figure out where to begin.  Or how to process it.  The swell of life is sweeping us along out of the doldrums.  

And, in providential fashion, in the middle of a busy week, in a moment of stillness, we are told to remember we are dust and unto dust we shall return - none of these activities and emotions matter in the end, except that we manage to see something of God in all.

So in an attempt to do that, we took lots of pictures last weekend. 

Well, really we took lots of pictures to share with the grandmas and cousins, hoping they'll be able to see something of a "Wish you were here" or "Wish we were there" message in our smiles.

We also had to document the visit of our first guest from the states. In our excitement to show him the island, we saw more in a weekend than we’d seen in several months since we’ve been here. A stop at the flea market, where you can find vegetables from the garden and jungle, live crabs and fish, large and small, plants, machetes, hair clips, bubble tea, parakeets, used shoes, used blenders, cheap t-shirts, cheap underwear, dusty cd’s, touristy wood carvings, coconut piggy banks, coconut cookies, bling from Thailand, and a variety of other oddments.  I think it’s my favorite place to shop here. But by 9 a.m, the vendors are gone. Gotta rise and shine.

So we had plenty of time to explore the boonies. Our first hike was to Pagat Cave and overlook.  This was an excellent hike to a cave and then to an ocean overlook. For one thing the trail was shaded by trees – so many of the hikes here are through swordgrass, or neti.  And halfway through  - a cave!  The cave began as a sinkhole and then opened up to a fairly deep swimming pool, once the fresh water source for an ancient Chamorro village. It made me a little claustrophobic. I was afraid something slimey might come swimming out of the deep, plus it was cold.

After leaving the cave, we headed to the edge of the island. At the cliff’s edge, a small inlet has become a jumping hole, but the tide was too strong to jump this day. Fortunately, another group of hikers warned us about the rough tide, or my husband and sons might have attempted the leap, so we could watch their bodies dashed against the rocks. The overlook was breathtaking enough.

Ancient lusong or mortar

Don't jump!

After lunch at a local eatery that has a great family meal deal (for less than the price of feeding 9 at McDonald’s, we had fruit salad, chicken kelaguen, ribs and chicken, two kinds of rice, including the ubiquitous red rice, a tomato and cucumber salad, and a giant banana split to share), we dropped off our oldest son at the rugby field for his warm-ups, and then went on a short hike down to a beach on the Air Force base.  We had time to swim for a little bit before heading back to the rugby match, where we watched a boy get taken by ambulance to the hospital after a particularly rough hit left him lightheaded. While rugby is great fun to watch, and my son loves it more than he has ever loved a sport, I am terrified that one of these days the ambulance will be carting my son away while I follow behind, biting my fingers to the nibs in fear for his life, or at least his brain.

Fortunately, he had the opportunity to receive three sacraments in one day on Sunday – Reconciliation, Communion, and Confirmation.  Both my 14 year olds (ahhh, the month of Irish twins! a joy to the younger, a pain to the older) were confirmed by one of the military archbishops.  The Mass was packed, the archbishop gave a solid homily, and the kids seemed cheerful.  I perhaps would have liked a little more pomp and circumstance for such a momentous occasion, but we are grateful for what we are given. 

Most of my photos from the ceremony look like this

The day snuck up on me. On the one hand, I fear I haven’t said the things I need to say or taught them what they need to know, but on the other hand, I realize they must become more responsible for what they learn. They have to want to learn; I can’t force-feed them anymore, to my dismay. I hope the Holy Spirit keeps a fire lit in their hearts. 

So it was a beautiful Sunday.  We had a small reception at the house afterwards – a Mardi Gras celebraton of sorts, although we have missed gumbo and beignets around here.  I made my own versions – not quite authentic, but edible.  The gifts I had ordered – icons of their saints - never arrived, so they were given little Holy Spirit crosses and piggy bank cans with spiritual sayings on them, which perhaps they could fill up with Lenten alms.

Getting some jumps in on another stomp.

We did not jump from these falls.

Neti

The rest of the weekend flew by: another hike, another triathlon, another snorkeling trip.  The highlight of snorkeling was the siting of sea turtles, and even more fascinating: a pair of octopi.  They were hypnotic to watch. One kept grasping the other with its tentacle – a gesture of amor or of enmity? If my 12 year old hadn’t pointed them out, I probably would have swum right by; they are able to camouflage themselves against any surface, changing both the color and shape of their skin to mask themselves.  Odd creatures.  What was God thinking?

A busy weekend necessarily begins a busy week. In an attempt to catch up, I never quite finalized a plan for spiritual renewal, so desperately needed, this Lent. We’ll give up the usual sweets and alcohol, except maybe a glass of wine on Sundays.  I’m also going to fast from some computer usage, and from snacks on Fridays – nothing particularly heroic, just enough to remind myself of the discomfort of others.  My prayer is to get back in the swing of night prayer and to read a spiritual book – maybe a Story of a Soul finally. I also need to pick something to read to the kids.  Our almsgiving has not taken a definite form yet, although I have been trying to think of some corporal acts of mercy we could do as a family.  But again, instead of adding to our to-do list, I want to first promote kindness to each other around the house. How hard it can be charitable to your closest neighbors!

Look what my amazing sister-in-law made me . I 'm so happy!

Goodnight!

Words for Ash Wednesday

Some things I want to think about more as the next 40 days provide an opportunity to practice more attentive prayer, purposeful fasting, and sincere acts of charity:


From T. S. Eliot's "Ash Wednesday":


If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in darkness and
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word.
O my people, what have I done unto thee.
Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
Not on the sea or on the islands, not
On the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,
For those who walk in darkness
Both in the day time and in the night time
The right time and the right place are not here
No place of grace for those who avoid the face
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny the voice
Will the veiled sister pray for
Those who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season, time and time, between
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait
In darkness? Will the veiled sister pray
For children at the gate
Who will not go away and cannot pray:
Pray for those who chose and oppose
O my people, what have I done unto thee.
Will the veiled sister between the slender
Yew trees pray for those who offend her
And are terrified and cannot surrender
And affirm before the world and deny between the rocks
In the last desert before the last blue rocks
The desert in the garden the garden in the desert
Of drouth, spitting from the mouth the withered apple-seed.
O my people.


http://www.msgr.ca/msgr-7/ash_wednesday_t_s_eliot.htm



From the Pope's message for Lent 2012:

"Let us be concerned for each other, to stir a response in love and good works"

(Heb 10:24)

"... This first aspect is an invitation to be "concerned": the Greek verb used here is katanoein, which means to scrutinize, to be attentive, to observe carefully and take stock of something. We come across this word in the Gospel when Jesus invites the disciples to "think of" the ravens that, without striving, are at the centre of the solicitous and caring Divine Providence (cf. Lk 12:24), and to "observe" the plank in our own eye before looking at the splinter in that of our brother (cf. Lk 6:41). In another verse of the Letter to the Hebrews, we find the encouragement to "turn your minds to Jesus" (3:1), the Apostle and High Priest of our faith. So the verb which introduces our exhortation tells us to look at others, first of all at Jesus, to be concerned for one another, and not to remain isolated and indifferent to the fate of our brothers and sisters. All too often, however, our attitude is just the opposite: an indifference and disinterest born of selfishness and masked as a respect for "privacy". Today too, the Lord’s voice summons all of us to be concerned for one another. Even today God asks us to be "guardians" of our brothers and sisters (Gen 4:9), to establish relationships based on mutual consideration and attentiveness to the well-being, the integral well-being of others. The great commandment of love for one another demands that we acknowledge our responsibility towards those who, like ourselves, are creatures and children of God. Being brothers and sisters in humanity and, in many cases, also in the faith, should help us to recognize in others a true alter ego, infinitely loved by the Lord. 


...

Concern for others entails desiring what is good for them from every point of view: physical, moral and spiritual. Contemporary culture seems to have lost the sense of good and evil, yet there is a real need to reaffirm that good does exist and will prevail, because God is "generous and acts generously" (Ps 119:68). The good is whatever gives, protects and promotes life, brotherhood and communion. Responsibility towards others thus means desiring and working for the good of others, in the hope that they too will become receptive to goodness and its demands. Concern for others means being aware of their needs. Sacred Scripture warns us of the danger that our hearts can become hardened by a sort of "spiritual anesthesia" which numbs us to the suffering of others. 
...

These words of the Letter to the Hebrews (10:24) urge us to reflect on the universal call to holiness, the continuing journey of the spiritual life as we aspire to the greater spiritual gifts and to an ever more sublime and fruitful charity (cf. 1 Cor 12:31-13:13). Being concerned for one another should spur us to an increasingly effective love which, "like the light of dawn, its brightness growing to the fullness of day" (Prov 4:18), makes us live each day as an anticipation of the eternal day awaiting us in God. The time granted us in this life is precious for discerning and performing good works in the love of God. In this way the Church herself continuously grows towards the full maturity of Christ (cf. Eph 4:13). Our exhortation to encourage one another to attain the fullness of love and good works is situated in this dynamic prospect of growth.

Sadly, there is always the temptation to become lukewarm, to quench the Spirit, to refuse to invest the talents we have received, for our own good and for the good of others (cf. Mt 25:25ff.). All of us have received spiritual or material riches meant to be used for the fulfilment of God’s plan, for the good of the Church and for our personal salvation (cf. Lk 12:21b; 1 Tim 6:18). The spiritual masters remind us that in the life of faith those who do not advance inevitably regress. Dear brothers and sisters, let us accept the invitation, today as timely as ever, to aim for the "high standard of ordinary Christian living" (Novo Millennio Ineunte, 31). The wisdom of the Church in recognizing and proclaiming certain outstanding Christians as Blessed and as Saints is also meant to inspire others to imitate their virtues. Saint Paul exhorts us to "anticipate one another in showing honour" (Rom 12:10).

In a world which demands of Christians a renewed witness of love and fidelity to the Lord, may all of us feel the urgent need to anticipate one another in charity, service and good works (cf. Heb 6:10). This appeal is particularly pressing in this holy season of preparation for Easter. "

Anticipating

I’m really looking forward to Lent starting next week.  I’ve felt at loose ends a little lately, unable to make decisions and in an attempt to put off decision making any more, I’ve been wasting time browsing the internet.  There’s always more drama out there, somewhere. 

I’ve also been randomly calling family members in search of drama. Someone else’s life is always more interesting. And it’s less agonizing to hear about someone else’s drama than experience your own, although I wanted to knock some noggins after reading some of my sister’s drama.  Who are these commenters?

In an effort to increase drama at home, I’ve also started to rethink schooling. Every so often, I wonder if the perfect option exists out there somewhere. Some friends are looking into the Episcopalian school on the island, which is the highest rated, but also most expensive school here. What price education? They do have a scholarship and a reduced tuition for siblings, but they are also located a good 30-40 minutes away. Our friends are thinking about sending one child there for one year before they move. We most likely have 2 more years here, and we have at least 2 and maybe 6 kids to send to school next year.

It’s not that home schooling is going really badly.  The kids are learning. Both my early readers, the 5 and 7 year old, have turned corners lately in their fluency. I don’t have to beat anybody to get them to do their work, although the 7 year old has a tendency to disappear to the Lego room. And he has regular meltdowns when one of the other kids crosses him.  I suspect he might do better with self control in a school setting.  Plus our home school lacks enthusiasm. I put more effort into my night class with strangers than my day job with kids I love.  Is it just the doldrums?

This weekend promises a little break from the routine: confirmations! Both our older boys will be confirmed by one of the military bishops this Sunday.  To our joy, we're also getting our first visit from a family member, who will be one of the boy's sponsor! And we'll have lots of fun and food to celebrate those events, along with an attempt to eat up all the sugar in the house before midnight on Fat Tuesday. (I'm missing the Mardi Gras festivities in Mississippi right now.)

The promise of Lent looming around the corner has me anticipating a return to basics.  I want to focus less on my own comfort and more on others.  More on what my penances will be, but definitely no more retreating to the pantry to sneak into chocolate chip bag when the day seems to drag.  And no more coveting someone else’s life.  This one right here is just fine, even if it is a little routine.  The daily death to self that Lent reminds me to practice should be drama enough.

A good link

My aunt shared this one, by George Weigel, on the continuing HHS debacle.  Glad to see Fr. Jenkins do the right thing.

A mixed review

Is the weekend already here? Where did the week go? I think I spent most of the week in a tizzy over my inability to make decisions.  I certainly didn’t spend it winning any home school of the week awards.

It IS February. That time of year when thou mayst in me behold lethargy, apathy, and general malaise.  I spent most of yesterday ignoring my children, hiding in the bathroom and the back porch, in order to read a frustrating book. Actually, it was a book I could have loved and I would’ve loved, if it weren’t for a few choices the author made.  The book is The FitzOsbornes in Exile by Michelle Cooper, written for young adults.  It is the second in a series, but I didn’t realize that when I checked it out from the library. The concept is fun: a group of 4 young royals (and their illegitimate cousin) from the sovereign island nation of Montmaray, hypothetically across from the coast of Spain, escape to England to live with their aunt when their island nation is captured by the Nazis. It’s 1937, and the aunt wants the girls to be debutantes, so there’s talk of dresses and parties, but the two older girls (actually cousins) are more interested in British literature and pre-World War II politics.  The aunt supplies all the finery for coming out and sets up their social calendar. Even though they are royals, their nation was not rich, and they lived like commoners there.  So they have to learn how to behave in society and figure out how to reclaim their island, if they can.

In the meanwhile the Germans are advancing across Europe, but the British are adhering to their policy of nonintervention.  So the young FitzOsborne’s cause scandal with their bad manners and for standing up to Fascists and stuffy Conservatives.  They don’t quite go to the length of becoming Communists, but they and all of the smart characters are atheists; even the Jewish tutor is an atheist Jew. The only religious character is the crazy house-keeper who is locked up in the insane asylum because she attempted to murder one of the main characters.  In addition to being an atheist Communist sympathizer, the young king of Montmaray is in love with his male cousin. I think he’s supposed to be a version of Sebastian Flyte from Brideshead Revisited, but neither he nor his sisters have any angst over his sexuality or lack of faith.  They are all too enlightened.

They aren’t able to win back their country, but they do make the government aware of their plight.  The book ends with World War II just about to explode, and the sequel is on the way. I wish I could like this book and look forward to the sequel, but I’m frustrated by young adult books that try to undermine faith and morals. I have a double standard for books for kids – I don’t mind reading about an atheist in a book written for adults, but I don’t want my kids reading books that normalize behaviors that I don’t want them to have. Is this being a controlling parent?  I visited the author’s blog to find out more about her and came across this discussion: http://michellecooper-writer.com/blog/2011/11/that-gayya-thing/ .   Interesting.  I guess I’m one of those readers like the Youth Librarian who holds YA lit to a different standard.  Censorship of children's books is an issue I have conflicted feelings about.  I want to hide from issue books, if not hide them.

They made a good choice

Wendell Berry was chosen by the NEH to present the 2012 Jefferson Lecture in the Humanities.

http://www.neh.gov/news/archive/20120206.html

It would be a treat to attend.


from An Embarrassment


 If a lonely soul
did ever cry out

in company its true
outcry to God,

it would be as though
at a sedate party

a man suddenly
removed his clothes

and took his wife
passionately into his arms.

Shakespeare: always timely

On the docket for tonight’s class: A Midsummer Night’s Dream.  I’ve asked the students to bring in lyrics to a love song of their choosing to compare to the theme that the course of true love never did run smooth.  I mentioned it to a friend, who warned me that I may get some undesirable language.  We may have to do some bowdlerizing.

While searching around for fun ideas, I came across this video:

 From the article at The Guardian:

The danger – if there is one – in such an approach, is that it might be seen as both patronising and naff to use hip-hop as a backdoor to introducing young people to what is often viewed as "high culture". Is turning Sonnet 18 into a rap the equivalent of turning children's food into funny animal shapes in order to get them to swallow something unpalatable? Keith Saha runs the innovative 20 Stories High theatre group in Liverpool and he thinks it can be if it's handled wrongly. "All sorts of industries use hip-hop as a branding tool to sell to a yoof market that they don't understand and can't connect with," he says. "Unfortunately, the arts, and theatre in particular, is one of them. Akala is a great example of a genuine artist who has a passion for both hip-hop and Shakespeare and what he does really works. But a lot of the time big arts organisations are clueless in how to attract young people to their venues; they have boxes to tick in terms of attracting new audiences and the results can be embarrassing, misguided and often offensive."

I may be one of the "clueless," but I'm not opposed to trying to make Shakespeare more accessible.   

Akala says the aim isn't that limited: "It's about showing them what's attainable. And if Shakespeare is presented as the most unattainable, highbrow entity, but then it's made relevant to them, what else might be? It's part of a wider effort to open kids up to what they wouldn't traditionally be interested in." Chanelle Newman, project manager for the Hip-Hop Shakespeare company, is already seeing the effects. "By the end of the workshops you get to see that it opens their mind up to other things such as theatre acting or going to see more Shakespeare plays. "

Too bad the classroom doesn’t have wi-fi.

Ironically, or not, this theme ties in nicely with our life lately. My husband and I spent about a few days last week at cross purposes.  Miscommunications, perceived slights, wrongs resurrected – the typical angsts of marriage.  So it’s not surprising that the sparring between Oberon and Titania caught my attention.  When lovers are at odds, all else in the world seems disordered.  Thankfully, our quibbles have nought to do with infidelity, but it would be nice if we could argue as eloquently as this :

          O: Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.

          T: What jealous Oberon? Fairies, skip hence.

            I have foresworn his bed and company.

          O: Tarry, rash wanton. Am not I thy lord?

          T: Then I must be thy lady; but I know when thou hast stolen away from Fairyland

Fortunately, like Oberon and Titania, our moods are as inconstant as the moon, and after a decent sleep, all is reconciled and right with the world:

       O: Come, my queen, take hands with me,

         And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.

         Now thou and I are new in amity,

         And will tomorrow midnight solemnly

         Dance in Duke Theseus’ house triumphantly

     T: Come, my lord, and in our flight

        Tell me how it came this night

        That I sleeping here was found

        With these mortals on the ground.

Providentially, one morning I opened up Benedictus (recycling through) to this quote from Pope Benedict:

 “No one can arrive at knowledge of himself just by looking within himself and trying to build up his personality from what he finds there. Man as a being is so constructed for relationships that he grows in relation to others. So that his own meaning, his task in life, his advancement in life, and his potential are unlocked in his meetings with others. From the starting point of this basic structure of human existence we can understand faith and our meeting with Jesus.”

Growing in relation to others is sometimes painful, but always fruitful. Does literature count as a meeting place with others? Can this class become a meeting place to grow in knowledge of self? Reminds me of this article: Can Tolstoy Change Your Marriage?

from http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lu82zpVNoc1qdrwy3o1_500.jpg

January Reading

On the plane ride to and from the states I got quite a bit of reading done. I spent a number of hours engrossed in the literature textbook for my class, but I also did some fun reading. Only some of the reading wasn’t fun because it made me second-guess my own choices.

First, I finished the biography of Mother Antonia, which was inspiring and made me question yet again whether I am doing enough, whether I am doing what I’m supposed to be doing. Am I satisfied being a status quo Christian? Shouldn’t I be working a little harder to do something radical for Christ? I could give more. And yet I fail at the very things that are closest, that need to be done most: prayer, loving my family, reaching out to neighbors. Mother Antonia was twice divorced, she raised 7 kids, and then she made private vows and went to live with Mexican prisoners in Tijuana.  Eventually her vows were recognized by her bishop.  But here is a woman who followed a call to the extreme.

We have friends here who are foster parents. There are three times as many foster children on Guam as there are homes for them. Our friends were hoping to adopt the baby they have been taking care of for six months, ever since she was a few hours old, but her grandfather has now decided he wants her.  They are crushed. It’s like having a death in a family.  I admire them for being so generous, but I have these little pinpricks of guilt that I keep using the excuse that we would be ineligible to be foster parents because we have too many children and not enough room in our house or car.  And could I love a child and then give her back to a situation that I know is not perfect?

The other book that got under my skin was Atlas Shrugged. Read it for the spouses' book club. I’m pretty sure few or none of the other ladies will stick through the whole 1026 pages, and I almost quit on it myself. I admit I skimmed quite a bit of the last half.  The book needs a good editor.  I don’t think you could argue that here is a work of great literature.  The characters are flat, the premise is preachy, the language is utilitarian.  The plot is interesting, but slow moving. It’s Ayn Rand’s philosophy that makes the book interesting and compels you to keep reading, and to question how you support your beliefs under a well-thought out attack like this one. Reading it on the tail of reading Mother Antonia’s story was a real study in contrasts.

I last read Ayn Rand back in my late teens and was intrigued by The Fountainhead, enough so that I thought it was romantic to fall in love with an architect myself.  But I didn’t get all the ramifications of her philosophy back then. I think all I took away was that you should always try to do your best, and that geniuses have to be content to walk alone or suffer persecution.  But now I see how passionately she wanted to overturn the prevailing Christian message of self-sacrifice as the highest good. And she makes a strong argument for how this message has been abused by those in political power.

Her philosophy relies on her faith that if people felt free to pursue their self-interest, they would choose what is best.  She didn’t believe in original sin. Nor did she believe in self-sacrifice. On the one hand, it should be easy to discard her philosophy because it doesn’t fit with human experience.  There might be a few men of genius who can look after their own self-interest without becoming selfish, but the rest of us have to contend with selfishness, jealousy, laziness, gluttony, etc.  Plus where do children and old people fit in her vision of society?  On the other hand, what gives her book power is the realism of the bad guys and their misuse of language. She seems prophetic in her depiction of the government using the language of Christianity - love, self-sacrifice, mercy - to justify socialism and the leveling of society.  Especially in light of the recent efforts to quash religious liberty and the implosion of the economy, Rand’s book made me wonder how it could be possible to reclaim these words.

And now I need to go reclaim an attitude of love towards my children who are berating each other while I let them sort out their conflicting self-interests because I’m busy pursuing my own.