Monday, May 31, 2010

Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe

En estos días Guadalupe está en mi mente y en mi corazón. Me siento atraída por la mujer vestida en las estrellas, de pie sobre la luna, y radiada por el sol.
De todas las apariciones, la aparición de Nuestra Madre en la colina de Tepeyac hace muchos siglos, es la que me sostiene.
Dios te salve María, llena eres de gracia, bendita tú entre las mujeres, y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre Jesús.
Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte.
Que todos los campesinos estancia en el temor de Nuestra Madre, y en el servicio de Nuestro Señor Jesucristo.

These days Guadalupe is on my mind and in my heart. I am drawn to the woman clothed in the stars, standing on the moon, and radiated by the sun.
Of all the apparitions, the appearance of Our Mother on Tepeyac hill so many centuries ago, is the one that holds me.
Hail Mary, full of grace, blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.
May we all stay peasants in awe of Our Mother, and in the service of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

The Wedding at Cana


On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there;
and both Jesus and His disciples were invited to the wedding.
When the wine ran out, the mother of Jesus said to Him, "They have no wine."
And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what does that have to do with us? My hour has not yet come."
His mother said to the servants, "Whatever He says to you, do it."
Now there were six stone waterpots set there for the Jewish custom of purification, containing twenty or thirty gallons each.
Jesus said to them, "Fill the waterpots with water." So they filled them up to the brim.
And He said to them, "Draw some out now and take it to the headwaiter." So they took it to him.
When the headwaiter tasted the water (J)which had become wine, and did not know where it came from (but the servants who had drawn the water knew), the headwaiter called the bridegroom,
and said to him, "Every man serves the good wine first, and when the people have drunk freely, then he serves the poorer wine; but you have kept the good wine until now."
This beginning of His signs Jesus did in Cana of Galilee, and manifested His glory, and His disciples believed in Him.
After this He went down to Capernaum, He and His mother and His brothers and His disciples; and they stayed there a few days.



May your life never run dry my friends, but if it does, Our Lord Jesus Christ is there to refill it. Just ask. Just ask.

My drive home at sunset





Saturday with the Birthday Girl - Donna






Happy Birthday Donna! and God bless!

Friday, May 28, 2010

Our Lady of Guadalupe



The Image of Our Lady of Guadalupe represents the Virgin Mary standing on a crescent, her long flowing garments held up by the arms of an angel; her eyes are looking down with an expression of compassion and humility, apparently at someone on a lower level. She is standing in a glowing halo as though before the sun. There are stars on her mantle and a moon at her feet. This subservient positioning has been interpreted as showing the Aztecs that the sun, the moon, and the stars are not gods to be worshipped. Her dress is that of a Middle Eastern maiden at the time of Christ as can be seen even today in the women inhabiting that land.

From Wikipedia

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Many Faiths, One Truth


OP-ED CONTRIBUTOR
Many Faiths, One Truth
By TENZIN GYATSO
Published: May 24, 2010

WHEN I was a boy in Tibet, I felt that my own Buddhist religion must be the best — and that other faiths were somehow inferior. Now I see how naïve I was, and how dangerous the extremes of religious intolerance can be today.

Though intolerance may be as old as religion itself, we still see vigorous signs of its virulence. In Europe, there are intense debates about newcomers wearing veils or wanting to erect minarets and episodes of violence against Muslim immigrants. Radical atheists issue blanket condemnations of those who hold to religious beliefs. In the Middle East, the flames of war are fanned by hatred of those who adhere to a different faith.

Such tensions are likely to increase as the world becomes more interconnected and cultures, peoples and religions become ever more entwined. The pressure this creates tests more than our tolerance — it demands that we promote peaceful coexistence and understanding across boundaries.

Granted, every religion has a sense of exclusivity as part of its core identity. Even so, I believe there is genuine potential for mutual understanding. While preserving faith toward one’s own tradition, one can respect, admire and appreciate other traditions.

An early eye-opener for me was my meeting with the Trappist monk Thomas Merton in India shortly before his untimely death in 1968. Merton told me he could be perfectly faithful to Christianity, yet learn in depth from other religions like Buddhism. The same is true for me as an ardent Buddhist learning from the world’s other great religions.

A main point in my discussion with Merton was how central compassion was to the message of both Christianity and Buddhism. In my readings of the New Testament, I find myself inspired by Jesus’ acts of compassion. His miracle of the loaves and fishes, his healing and his teaching are all motivated by the desire to relieve suffering.

I’m a firm believer in the power of personal contact to bridge differences, so I’ve long been drawn to dialogues with people of other religious outlooks. The focus on compassion that Merton and I observed in our two religions strikes me as a strong unifying thread among all the major faiths. And these days we need to highlight what unifies us.

Take Judaism, for instance. I first visited a synagogue in Cochin, India, in 1965, and have met with many rabbis over the years. I remember vividly the rabbi in the Netherlands who told me about the Holocaust with such intensity that we were both in tears. And I’ve learned how the Talmud and the Bible repeat the theme of compassion, as in the passage in Leviticus that admonishes, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

In my many encounters with Hindu scholars in India, I’ve come to see the centrality of selfless compassion in Hinduism too — as expressed, for instance, in the Bhagavad Gita, which praises those who “delight in the welfare of all beings.” I’m moved by the ways this value has been expressed in the life of great beings like Mahatma Gandhi, or the lesser-known Baba Amte, who founded a leper colony not far from a Tibetan settlement in Maharashtra State in India. There he fed and sheltered lepers who were otherwise shunned. When I received my Nobel Peace Prize, I made a donation to his colony.

Compassion is equally important in Islam — and recognizing that has become crucial in the years since Sept. 11, especially in answering those who paint Islam as a militant faith. On the first anniversary of 9/11, I spoke at the National Cathedral in Washington, pleading that we not blindly follow the lead of some in the news media and let the violent acts of a few individuals define an entire religion.

Let me tell you about the Islam I know. Tibet has had an Islamic community for around 400 years, although my richest contacts with Islam have been in India, which has the world’s second-largest Muslim population. An imam in Ladakh once told me that a true Muslim should love and respect all of Allah’s creatures. And in my understanding, Islam enshrines compassion as a core spiritual principle, reflected in the very name of God, the “Compassionate and Merciful,” that appears at the beginning of virtually each chapter of the Koran.

Finding common ground among faiths can help us bridge needless divides at a time when unified action is more crucial than ever. As a species, we must embrace the oneness of humanity as we face global issues like pandemics, economic crises and ecological disaster. At that scale, our response must be as one.

Harmony among the major faiths has become an essential ingredient of peaceful coexistence in our world. From this perspective, mutual understanding among these traditions is not merely the business of religious believers — it matters for the welfare of humanity as a whole.

Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama, is the author, most recently, of “Toward a True Kinship of Faiths: How the World’s Religions Can Come Together.”

A version of this op-ed appeared in print on May 25, 2010, on page A27 of the New York edition.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

My Pentecost Sunday






Matt and I serving breakfast at IHS

Me and Deacon Ernie

Me and Joyce

Friday, May 21, 2010

Food for the body

It’s amazing how some people find.
The image of Christ in a consumable food product.
They see the praying Servant in a cheeto,
The Word Made Flesh in likeness on a potato chip,
The Crucified One in an orange,
The Mother of our Lord on a grape.
If you find one of these consumable icons, what to do?
Worship it? Pray to it? Put it on eBay and sale it?
No, just eat it.
That’s what God intended it for.

Saint Christopher Magallanes and his companions


Like Blessed Miguel Agustín Pro, S.J., Cristóbal and his 24 companion martyrs lived under a very anti-Catholic government in Mexico, one determined to weaken the Catholic faith of its people. Churches, schools and seminaries were closed; foreign clergy were expelled. Cristóbal established a clandestine seminary at Totatiche, Jalisco. Magallanes and the other priests were forced to minister secretly to Catholics during the presidency of Plutarco Calles (1924-28).

All of these martyrs except three were diocesan priests. David, Manuel and Salvador were laymen who died with their parish priest, Luis Batis. All of these martyrs belonged to the Cristero movement, pledging their allegiance to Christ and to the Church that he established to spread the Good News in society—even if Mexico’s leaders once made it a crime to receive Baptism or celebrate the Mass.

These martyrs did not die as a single group but in eight Mexican states, with Jalisco and Zacatecas having the largest number. They were beatified in 1992 and canonized eight years later.

From www.ucatholic.com

The Pain and Art of Frida Kahlo





The Pain and Art of Frida Kahlo






Wednesday, May 19, 2010

The Duty of Delight: The Diaries of Dorothy Day





By Kerry Walters (Lewisburg, PA USA)

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This review is from: The Duty of Delight: The Diaries of Dorothy Day (Hardcover)
There are few people who have done more to keep Dorothy Day's words before the public than Robert Ellsberg. As both editor of her writings (By Little and By Little, 1983; Dorothy Day: Selected Writings, 1992; A Penny a Copy, 1995) and publisher (Orbis) of books by and about her, Ellsberg continues to remind us of Dorothy's vision of a Christianity that is orthodox in theology and radical (in the deepest sense of the word, as a return to roots) in social activism. His credentials are good: he knew Dorothy for the final five years of her life, and served as managing editor of "The Catholic Worker" for two of them.

Now, in The Duty of Delight, Ellsberg continues to enrich us with an edition of the diaries Dorothy maintained from 1934 to a few days before her death in November 1980. The manuscript of the diaries, housed at Marquette University (my alma mater, by the way) and sealed until 25 years after Dorothy's passing, is over a thousand single-spaced pages. Ellsberg has reduced the material by half by whittling away unessentials. Providentially, Dorothy's diary entries for the final year of her life, missing from the Marquette archives, was discovered after Ellsberg took on the editorship.

Ellsberg's Introduction to the diaries provides a nice overview of their content. Arranged by decades, the entries from the '50s through the '70s make up the bulk of the work. I began reading in the '70s section, since this is the decade in which I first became aware of the Catholic Workers, and gradually worked my way backwards.

Three things especially strike me about Dorothy's diaries.

The first is the sheer richness of the activities she chronicles: serving as the dynamo that kept the Catholic Worker movement energized; raising her daughter Tamar; dealing with Tamar's father Forster and Forster's common law wife Nanette; continuously writing; travels, both domestic and abroad; retreats and daily masses; public demonstrations and peace witnesses; and dancing with officials from both the state and church. In recording her activities, Dorothy not only gives us a good idea of her dedication, but also provides us with cumulative sketches of many of the co-workers (including Ellsberg) and clients with whom she came into daily contact.

The second thing that's impressive about the diaries is the breadth and depth of Dorothy's reading, as well as her love of music. The authors and composers she mentions in her diaries, when compiled, make up an impressive list, and her asides about them (as when, for example, she calls Solzhenitsyn a "holy fool," p. 626, or states that it's actually sloth, not Cassian's avarice, that is "man's abiding sin," p. 364) are frequently insightful.

Finally, the self-examinations, self-recriminations, and resolutions to be more prayerful, patient, compassionate, and nonjudgmental with which Dorothy liberally sprinkles her diaries are fascinating. On one level, they provide a cumulative portrait of a woman who is deeply troubled by what she perceives as her inability to practice what she preaches--a self-doubting that probably both feeds and emerges from her "long loneliness." At another level, though, these passages strongly suggest something that Dorothy perhaps never fully appreciated: that what she took to be spiritual and personal weaknesses in fact were also the very strengths that enabled her ministry.

In August 1952, for example, she writes (p. 177): "When I say, Lord, that I am too sensitive, it is truly that--my senses, exterior and interior are too thin-skinned. I am tormented by people's moods, their unhappiness. I must live more in my own heart, with Thee. Then when I go forth I have at least serenity." But what Dorothy interprets here as a moody over-sensitivity that inhibits contact with God might perhaps more accurately be described as an empathy that connects her with other people's suffering, and consequently with God's as well. Surely it's her "thin-skin" that allows for compassionate entries such as this one from February 1972 (p. 501): "I have been harried and worn out all day by the consciousness that we were inundated by an ocean of unemployed and unemployable, black and white human beings, searching for food, warmth, comfort, momentary surcease from suffering."

The Duty of Delight is yet one more wonderful gift to us from Dorothy, and it will prove to be an invaluable scholarly and spiritual resource. Robert Ellsberg and Marquette University Press are to be commended.


The Duty of Delight: The Diaries of Dorothy Day on Amazon.com


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