"Lord, send out your Spirit, and renew the face of the earth." In light of the celebration of Pentecost on Sunday, here are a few thoughts about the idea of "renewal."
On a lazy Saturday morning recently, I found myself enjoying one of my favorite pass-times: watching TV. As I began channel surfing, I came upon a show on the History Channel called American Restoration. This show is about a crew of guys from Las Vegas who spend their time restoring old things to the way they were when they were first created. Some of the items I watched them restore were a 1940s red Sav-Way toy wagon, a 1950s Matchless motorcycle, two 1920s gas pumps, and a 1930s horse track casino wheel. What struck me as interesting, though, was the stories that some of the customers brought with them as they sought restoration for their items. Many of the customers sought restoration as a way to connect them to events or people from their past. Upon picking up their items, these customers were overjoyed with contentment over their fully restored items as they remembered such wonderful symbols of their upbringings.
Are their times in our lives when we long for our own personal restoration? If so, we can be sure that that longing is the Spirit at work in our lives. After all, God created us in his image, so, like the items in American Restoration, we were once brand new. But, throughout our lives we experience dents, chips, broken parts, and malfunctions that need restoring. Thankfully, we have a loving and merciful God that we can bring ourselves to every time to receive total restoration. In the Catholic tradition, we may choose to receive restoration through the sacrament of Reconciliation. This is a tangible sign of God's forgiveness in our lives. As a result of receiving this sacrament, we can confidently restore our place within our faith community ready to be living examples of God's divine restoration.
By frequently seeking our own restoration, we draw closer to the ultimate total restoration: The resurrection of Jesus.
May we be ever-faithful, ever-mindful, and ever-joyful.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
A Rift in Perspective
The best perspective only comes from making a conscious effort to view the whole picture.
I've often wondered if my perspective on life is fair. Do I acknowledge the good and the bad of a situation? For the sake of clarity do I encourage myself to listen to people that I may be inclined to oppose? Do I always try to keep the betterment of humanity in mind in my decision-making?
These questions came to mind as I've been reading a novel by Naomi Benaron called Running the Rift. This novel follows a young runner in Rwanda as he tries to succeed in his sport amid the growing tensions between the Tutsi and Hutu tribes which ultimately results in the Rwandan genocide of 1994. The protagonist, Jean Patrck Nkuba, a young college student, experiences the struggle between believing what he hears on the radio and from other "trusted" sources or believing what he discovers to be right and just for humanity. Ultimately, he must run the rift that is forming in his country and find out on what side he will end up. Jean Patrick gathers perspectives from many people. One such person is his younger brother, Zachary. In one scene, Zachary brings Jean Patrick to an old hut near their home. This hut was a fun play spot for Jean Patrick when he was a boy, and now, Zachary has his chance to make it his own.
An excerpt:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Zachary] had transformed the hut into a shrine. The bookshelf served as an altar, an image of the sacred Virgin flanked by two candles. A painting hung on the wall [. . .]. Two lambs, one black and one white, drank from a stream. Orchids and lilies grew along the banks, and creatures -- birds or angels -- floated in an amethyst sky. In the blocky, primitive shapes, Jean Patrick saw a child's view of heaven.
"Did you paint this? It looks like paradise."
"It is." Zachary's countenance took on the innocence of a child. [. . .] Zachary talks in low tones, as if speech would disturb some sleeping spirit. "It's the best place for me to worship, the place I feel closest to God."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Do we use everyday settings like Zachary's hut to help us sense the Spirit in our everyday lives?
In a time of growing unrest, Jean Patrick found calm in the perspective of faith from his brother. Good and genuine perspectives like this should give us the encouragement to enter our own places where we feel "closest to God."
May we be every-faithful, ever-mindful, and ever-joyful.
I've often wondered if my perspective on life is fair. Do I acknowledge the good and the bad of a situation? For the sake of clarity do I encourage myself to listen to people that I may be inclined to oppose? Do I always try to keep the betterment of humanity in mind in my decision-making?
These questions came to mind as I've been reading a novel by Naomi Benaron called Running the Rift. This novel follows a young runner in Rwanda as he tries to succeed in his sport amid the growing tensions between the Tutsi and Hutu tribes which ultimately results in the Rwandan genocide of 1994. The protagonist, Jean Patrck Nkuba, a young college student, experiences the struggle between believing what he hears on the radio and from other "trusted" sources or believing what he discovers to be right and just for humanity. Ultimately, he must run the rift that is forming in his country and find out on what side he will end up. Jean Patrick gathers perspectives from many people. One such person is his younger brother, Zachary. In one scene, Zachary brings Jean Patrick to an old hut near their home. This hut was a fun play spot for Jean Patrick when he was a boy, and now, Zachary has his chance to make it his own.
An excerpt:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Zachary] had transformed the hut into a shrine. The bookshelf served as an altar, an image of the sacred Virgin flanked by two candles. A painting hung on the wall [. . .]. Two lambs, one black and one white, drank from a stream. Orchids and lilies grew along the banks, and creatures -- birds or angels -- floated in an amethyst sky. In the blocky, primitive shapes, Jean Patrick saw a child's view of heaven.
"Did you paint this? It looks like paradise."
"It is." Zachary's countenance took on the innocence of a child. [. . .] Zachary talks in low tones, as if speech would disturb some sleeping spirit. "It's the best place for me to worship, the place I feel closest to God."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Do we use everyday settings like Zachary's hut to help us sense the Spirit in our everyday lives?
In a time of growing unrest, Jean Patrick found calm in the perspective of faith from his brother. Good and genuine perspectives like this should give us the encouragement to enter our own places where we feel "closest to God."
May we be every-faithful, ever-mindful, and ever-joyful.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Pelaton of Silence
Earlier this month, I had the privilege of joining my dad for his annual retreat to Manresa House of Retreats in Convent, LA. This retreat is all-men's 3-day silent retreat. On this retreat, I learned the wonderful value of sharing faith with others without speaking. This idea is reflective of St. Francis of Assisi's saying that we should preach the gospel always and only used words when necessary.
This morning, while watching ESPN, I saw a nice piece on Bo Jackson (a former great football and baseball player). For the anniversary of the terrible tornadoes that swept through Alabama last year, Bo decided to raise money to help those communities who are still trying to recover. Bo was not going to raise the money by campaigning with his words, but by bicycling across Alabama. Though this was not a silent ride, the symbolism of the ride is reflective of the Spirit working in one's actions more so than in one's words. Along the way, Bo created a "tornado" of cyclists that mimicked the wave and path of the tornadoes. However, instead of the tornadoes wreaking havoc this time, the cyclists brought faith, hope, love to others in the form of community and support. I imagine that the ride gave the riders a chance to internalize all that they saw along the way and allowed them to share community with one another not so much by speaking but by riding side by side with each other.
Can the Spirit be as present to us as pelaton of cyclists? I'd like to think so.
Bo Bikes Bama
May we be ever-faithful, ever-mindful, and ever-joyful.
This morning, while watching ESPN, I saw a nice piece on Bo Jackson (a former great football and baseball player). For the anniversary of the terrible tornadoes that swept through Alabama last year, Bo decided to raise money to help those communities who are still trying to recover. Bo was not going to raise the money by campaigning with his words, but by bicycling across Alabama. Though this was not a silent ride, the symbolism of the ride is reflective of the Spirit working in one's actions more so than in one's words. Along the way, Bo created a "tornado" of cyclists that mimicked the wave and path of the tornadoes. However, instead of the tornadoes wreaking havoc this time, the cyclists brought faith, hope, love to others in the form of community and support. I imagine that the ride gave the riders a chance to internalize all that they saw along the way and allowed them to share community with one another not so much by speaking but by riding side by side with each other.
Can the Spirit be as present to us as pelaton of cyclists? I'd like to think so.
Bo Bikes Bama
May we be ever-faithful, ever-mindful, and ever-joyful.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Play your cards
As many of you know, training and coaching are two things very dear to me. From these two, I have come to sense the Spirit at work in so many different ways in my own life and the lives of others with whom I've worked. As this blog progresses, the influence of running on my life will probably become a common theme in my posts. This influences stems from the "Trial of miles and the miles of trials" as John L. Parker, Jr. puts it in his book, Once a Runner.
With this in mind, I came across the story of a man who experienced the liberating power of running. His story is one of learning to "play the cards you're dealt." I believe that the Spirit is clearly present in his heart, mind, and legs as he journeys on in his life. Enjoy.
http://www.kentucky.com/2012/05/05/2177449/at-40-nicholasville-based-runner.html
May we be ever-faithful, ever-mindful, and ever-joyful.
With this in mind, I came across the story of a man who experienced the liberating power of running. His story is one of learning to "play the cards you're dealt." I believe that the Spirit is clearly present in his heart, mind, and legs as he journeys on in his life. Enjoy.
http://www.kentucky.com/2012/05/05/2177449/at-40-nicholasville-based-runner.html
May we be ever-faithful, ever-mindful, and ever-joyful.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Getting started...
As the Dew Fall- What is this? Well, if you are Catholic, you might recognize it as a similar phrase to that which we hear in one of the Eucharistic prayers in our mass these days. If you aren't Catholic, don't worry, I'll explain. As the dew fall is a phrase designated to show how the Holy Spirit comes down to bless the sacrificial gifts of bread and wine at the altar.
So, there I was, mass after mass, hearing the Eucharistic prayer time and time again when finally this phrase jumped out at me. When it did, I begin to think about the physical properties morning dew. How does it fall? Why does it fall? From where does it fall? Does it even really "fall"? We can not tell from where it comes or to where it is going. We only know that it does indeed come and go. This, too, is true of the Holy Spirit in the world, and more specifically, in our lives. I know we all have experiences of the Spirit in our lives, and I'm hoping that this blog will become a forum for our experiences. I will share Spiritual experiences and stories of my own, but I welcome yours, too. Please feel free to send me any pictures, stories, or other incidents from which others may gain new perspectives on life. After all, we are all living in this beautiful, messy world together. Remember, though, that our Spiritual experiences more often than not originate from things that happen to us outside of church.
May we all be ever-faithful, ever-mindful, and ever-joyful.
So, there I was, mass after mass, hearing the Eucharistic prayer time and time again when finally this phrase jumped out at me. When it did, I begin to think about the physical properties morning dew. How does it fall? Why does it fall? From where does it fall? Does it even really "fall"? We can not tell from where it comes or to where it is going. We only know that it does indeed come and go. This, too, is true of the Holy Spirit in the world, and more specifically, in our lives. I know we all have experiences of the Spirit in our lives, and I'm hoping that this blog will become a forum for our experiences. I will share Spiritual experiences and stories of my own, but I welcome yours, too. Please feel free to send me any pictures, stories, or other incidents from which others may gain new perspectives on life. After all, we are all living in this beautiful, messy world together. Remember, though, that our Spiritual experiences more often than not originate from things that happen to us outside of church.
May we all be ever-faithful, ever-mindful, and ever-joyful.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)