Passing It Along

Excerpted from 6/9/12 post by Father Richard Rohr:

"Niels Bohr, the Danish physicist who was a major contributor to quantum physics and nuclear fission, said the universe is 'not only stranger than we think, but stranger than we can think.'  .  .  .  Of all the religious rituals and practices I know of, nothing will lead us to (the) place of .  .  .  vulnerability more than forms of solitude and silence, where our ego identity falls away, where our explanations don’t mean anything, where our superiority doesn’t matter .  .   .  God is not only stranger than we think, but stranger than the logical mind can think  .  .  .  "

Truth or Dare?

I am old.  Seriously.  Anna and some friends are playing "Truth or Dare" in the living room (on the couch in front of my open office door, out of which is my direct view from my desk -- they might as well be sitting in my office as they answer "Who was your first grade crush?")  .  .  .  using a cell phone or ipad or ipod app.  It's some techno gizmo or gadget with icons and apps.  Back in my day, we had to invent the questions and make up the dares (wagging wrinkled hand in the air to emphasize my passionate cry for the good ol' days)  .  .  .  'cept this app, being associated with some business or other must have a sense of responsibility to the customers -- ultimately the old people parents of the app-users, and I admit that this techno-version is, uh, it ain't a bad thing that this is a bit less creative than when my friends and I used to play.  Yeah, one girl had to snort like a pig near someone unsuspecting (i.e. Hunter battling xbox in the upstairs boy cave), followed, of course by the requisite running back to the safe haven of the "girls' living room."  Much better than blind-fold tasting a spoonful of Thousand Island dressing, or mooning the window, or God knows what else we invented in the age of rotary phone and casette tape that this 39-year-old brain has forgotten.

A Heart in Haiti

A 12-year-old boy in Haiti by the name of Junior is in need of heart surgery; without it, he may have months to live, at best.  We've made a few contacts -- the ones that we know -- to try to find someone who knows someone  .  .  .  who could do the surgery pro bono in the U.S.  As none of the leads attempted by other persons has yet to be the answer, please consider talking with hospital persons you know about how we might find a surgeon and hospital that are able and willing to be Junior's answer.  Message me here, on Facebook, or by email.  Thanks!

Transition

All A's and B's x 4, free movie rentals from Family Video, and $3 Mini-Murphs make-at home pizzas  .  .  .  and for me, some quiet time AT HOME (!) to sip Starbucks and begin to get a handle on the hurricane I call my home office.  Ahhh  .  .  .  Summer.

Three Moms . . .

Our friends, their mom, and the moms with whom they're working:

    http://www.haitianfamiliesfirst.org/blog/

I'm looking for . . .

another word for "captivity," said Baylor to explain why she'd retrieved the thesaurus from my office. 

Ah, the final paper for my spring grad class has been submitted, which brings a short time of, well, time.  At least the freedom to blog, again, about the silly things that happen in all households with children, the moments that give the kind of humor that I've nonetheless enjoyed over the past few weeks, but haven't had the luxury of typing it down for myself, for the kids to read when they're older, for anyone out there who might, also, have a chuckle. 

What third grader uses a thesaurus?  Seriously.  It seems fitting that she is presently prancing around with her smoothed, "teenage Hermione" hair in anticipation of her friend's Hogwarts birthday party tonight.  What a Hermione she is!  Except when she's Ramona, dreaming up a lemonaide business to profit the hundred dollars she "needs" for an iPod Touch.  Okay, whatever, honey.

I know I'd been excessively focused on one particular task (writing my paper) when said task is finally completed and ordering mulch, sorting out the piles on my desk, and scrubbing the uck out of the bathrooms feels like wild abandonment.  Ah, look at me, I'm wild and crazy, foot loose and fancy free.  Who knows what I'll do next -- maybe, I know, maybe I'll do yoga, or, or  .  .  .  make some lists! 

How True!

HOLY WEEK Thursday, April 5, 2012 Holy Thursday

"  .  .  .  (in) the Last Supper in the Gospel of John  .  .  .  we come upon the story of Jesus on his knees washing the Apostles' feet  .  .  .  Peter symbolizes all of us as he protests, "You will never wash my feet!" (John 13:8). But Jesus answers, "If I do not wash you, you can have nothing in common with me." That is strong! We all find it hard to receive undeserved love from another. For some reason it is very humiliating to the ego. We all want to think we have earned any love that we get by our worthiness or attractiveness. So Jesus has to insist on being the servant lover. Thank God, Peter surrenders, but it probably takes him the rest of his life to understand." --Father Richard Rohr

More Father Rohr Excerpts

HOLY WEEK Friday, April 6, 2012 Good Friday

"The supreme irony of the whole crucifixion scene is this: He who was everything had everything taken away from Him. He who was perfect was totally misjudged as "sin" itself (Romans 8:3-4). The crucified Jesus forever tells power and authority, and all of us, how utterly wrong we can be about who is in the right and who is sinful (John 16:8)  .  .  .    .  .  .  Jesus forever tells us that God is found wherever the pain is, which leaves God on both sides of every war, in sympathy with both the pain of the perpetrator and the pain of the victim, with the excluded, the tortured, the abandoned, and the oppressed since the beginning of time. I wonder if we even like that. There are no games of moral superiority left. Yet this is exactly the kind of Lover and the universal Love that humanity needs.   .  . .  Jesus redeemed the world "by the blood of the cross.” It was not some kind of heavenly transaction, or "paying a price" to God, as much as a cosmic communion with all that humanity has ever loved and ever suffered. If he was paying any price it was for the hard and resistant skin around our souls."

Some More Humility for the Soul

Another edgy entry by Father Richard Rohr  .  .  . 

"Jesus enters the temple and drives out the dealers who are trying to buy and sell worthiness and access (Luke 19:45-46), which is the great temptation of all religion. He symbolically dismantles the system. The temple of religion (read “church” or “mosque” too) is henceforth to become personal, relational, embodied in people, and not a physical building. He came to say that God is available everywhere, and for some reason we like to keep God 'elsewhere,' where we can control God by our theologies and services.

His public demonstration against the sacred space is surely the historical action that finally gets Him killed. The trouble with declaring one space sacred is that we then imagine other spaces are not! Here He takes on the detours of false religion: any attempt to "buy" God, purity and debt codes, and the primacy of "sacrifices" over mercy and compassion. Jesus has come to liberate God for humanity and humanity for God."

This reminds me of the evening a few falls ago when I had the good fortune to hear famed author ("Night") and Holocaust survivor, Elie Wiesel.  Among his many eloquent gems of wisdom came his emphasis that any religion, any culture, any race can have extremists and we need guard against thinking ourselves immune.  He explained that a fanatic is one who holds God prisoner and claims to have the key.  

The deeper I dive into my own Catholocism in this intensely religious season of Lent, I find the refreshing beauty of my religion's most central message -- the commandment from Jesus, himself -- love thy neighbor. 

Direct link to Richard Rohr's post:  http://us.mg204.mail.yahoo.com/dc/launch?.partner=sbc&.gx=1&.rand=fk4dcj2irkt4v

The Fry of the Fish

1970's-ish church hall.  Metal folding chairs.  Average age of the crowd -- roughly 65.  Chad was shaking up the fish fillets in the flour and seasoning with the Catholic cooking crew in the church garage full o' oil fryers while I spooned slaw onto foam plates for diners coming through the line.  It was some good, quaint Friday evening community time, and one customer made my year  .  .  .

An older gentleman with what I'm sure is excellent eyesight must have noticed my "Illinois State" T-shirt when he asked if I was a student.  I giggled at the flattery and told him "No, but THANK you!"  After a short pause, as he continued to await the potatoes to be put onto his plate, I felt obligated to add, "Actually, I'm a teacher (chuckle, chuckle); so, I'm taking that as a BIG compliment!" 

To assure himself of his general judgment on the matter, he followed up with a gentle, kind inquiry, "How many years you been teaching?"  At this moment I paused, fearing my answer might embarrass him, and after hedging, I finally answered truthfully, "About 15."  The stunned look on his face was sweet, and wonderful, and I felt badly and made sure we reconnected in laughing together and assured him that he was allowed to make that "mistake" any old time he wanted.  I'm sure he has crystal clear, 20-20 vision; certain of it.

Tee hee heeee.  (Heck, Wal-mart stopped carding me over a year ago.  I no longer even look "Under 35" to their cashiers.  I'll take any moment of personal delusions that I can get!)