Thoughts on the Rosary

 

The Rosary: Something for Everyone

Think of the rosary as being like the ocean: There’s something in it for everyone, whether you consider yourself a veteran mystic longing to go deeper in prayer with our Lord, a novice struggling to learn how to pray, or someone seeking the Lord’s help, right now, with something going on in your life. The deep-sea explorer and the child making sand castles on the beach can fully enjoy the same ocean while playing at different levels. And this is true with the rosary.

—from the book Praying the Rosary Like Never Before: Encounter the Wonder of Heaven and Earth 
by Edward Sri

Thoughts on Mary

 

Mary's Story Mary's Story. That is the great gift the Scriptures give us in the infancy narratives of Matthew and Luke. And it is those stories and a few other short vignettes in the Gospels of Mark and John that form the basis of what we call mariology, the study of the theology that derives from the story of Mary and her son Jesus. And her son Jesus was and is the reason, the root, and the complementarity that makes her story complete... That is why we lift up our hearts and pray, as Christians have prayed for centuries, "Hail Mary, full of Grace, the Lord is with you. 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. Amen." — from the book Nourishing Love: A Franciscan Celebration of Mary by Murray Bodo, OFM

Thoughts on compassion

 

Nothing Small about Compassion

There is nothing small about compassion. There is nothing small about making a difference in the life of one human being. But sometimes, we need an experience that rocks our world. Or, to invite us to hit the reset button. You know, back to what makes us human. To say yes to whatever connects us, as humans, as children of God, as people who need compassion and mercy for sustenance, as people who cannot walk this journey alone. And to say no to whatever divides or demeans or belittles or degrades or incites hate and exclusion. And I must speak that yes, and speak that no, not only with my voice, but with my hands and my feet. Lord hear my prayer. When the world feels small and dark and frightful, it is not surprising we choose to protect our hearts. We do not easily give them away.

This happens when we live from the notion that we carry only so much emotional capital—you know, that precious commodity which allows us to pay attention, to focus, to contribute, to care, to forgive, to set free. So, it goes without saying that conservation is called for. And it becomes our default. “There is no need to spend empathy on just anybody,” we think. “We need to pick and choose.” Or more bluntly, “There are those who deserve care, and those who don’t.” Lord, help us. We lose track of the values that sustain us. There is nothing small about compassion. It is the thread of life woven through each day. As humans—in the image of God—we touch, love, give, receive, and redeem. It’s time to rethink our notion about the scarcity of compassion. This is an affirmation of what is already alive and well within each of us. We have the capacity to be places of shelter and hope and inclusion and healing.

—from the book Stand Still: Finding Balance When the World Turns Upside Down,
by Terry Hershey, page 53

Thoughts on conversion

 

The Gift of Transformation

Transformation (conversion) brings with it an extraordinary gift. I was raised in a religious tradition that mandated conversion, which punched my ticket for the afterlife. I was frequently asked what I would do if I died today. I was never once asked what I would do if I lived. But what if conversion is about living this life, today, with my whole heart? “We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it to the full,” Marcel Proust wrote. So we wake up to this fragile and exquisitely beautiful life and embrace the sacred present. When I’m not preoccupied (held captive by angst), I notice, I pay attention, I see. And in taking ownership of my life—this life—I am available. Not frightened by scarcity, I’m not enticed to ask, “What do I need today?” Rather, I can ask, “What do others need today?” You see, I have both resources and assets to give: a listening ear, empathy, a calm demeanor, a shout-out to a friend, words of consolation.

—from the book Stand Still: Finding Balance When the World Turns Upside Down,
by Terry Hershey, page 3

Thoughts on solitude

 

Solitude Creates Space for God

To live a Christian life means to live in the world without being of it. It is in solitude that this inner freedom can grow. Jesus went to a lonely place to pray, that is, to grow in the awareness that all the power he had was given to him; that all the words he spoke came from his Father; and that all the works he did were not really his but the works of the One who had sent him. In the lonely place Jesus was made free to fail. A life without a lonely place, that is, a life without a quiet center, easily becomes destructive. When we cling to the results of our actions as our only way of self-identification, then we become possessive and defensive and tend to look at our fellow human beings more as enemies to be kept at a distance than as friends with whom we share the gifts of life. In solitude we can slowly unmask the illusion of our possessiveness and discover in the center of our own self that we are not what we can conquer, but what is given to us. In solitude we can listen to the voice of him who spoke to us before we could speak a word, who healed us before we could make any gesture to help, who set us free long before we could free others, and who loved us long before we could give love to anyone. It is in this solitude that we discover that being is more important than having, and that we are worth more than the results of our efforts. In solitude we discover that our life is not a possession to be defended, but a gift to be shared. It’s there we recognize that the healing words we speak are not just our own, but are given to us; that the love we can express is part of a greater love; and the new life we bring forth is not a property to cling to, but a gift to be received. Henri Nouwen

Thoughts on the Risen Jesus

 

Walking with the Risen Jesus

Let us try to imagine the scene of the disciples who are walking with Jesus at their side for about seven miles. We can almost picture them in our minds: Initially focused on themselves with downcast faces, little by little they regain their strength, lift up their heads, return to an upright position, and breathe deeply again. Having reached the village of Emmaus, Jesus concretely checks to see if these two have understood and accepted all that he wanted to reveal to them during their journey. The disciples’ invitation shows that they accepted the extraordinary nature of their mysterious journey companion. Their invitation reveals the new feeling that is now in the hearts of these two. “It would be very good if you stayed with us. We have not yet understood who you are, but your presence is a source of consolation. Stay here with us.”

They enter the place, and during the meal Jesus performs actions and repeats the very words of consecration for the Eucharist. He takes the bread and breaks it. The disciples—watching this take place and trained in listening to the word of God now being interpreted—are able to recognize him in the breaking of the bread. The Gospel reports that at the disciples’ invitation, Jesus “went in to stay with them.” As soon as they recognized him, however, “he vanished from their sight.” But why? Shouldn’t he have stayed with them? Because now he was still with them, because he had taught them to recognize him in the sacrament of his presence that he had left them: the body broken for them and the blood poured out for them.

— from the book Encountering Jesus: A Holy Land Experience
by Vincenzo Peroni

More thoughts on Easter

 

Risen and Alive!

We are not content to say merely that Jesus is risen. We want to affirm that Jesus is risen and alive! He did not simply come back to life so that he could die again. He was not brought back to life like Lazarus, whom Jesus rescued from the tomb and would then have to die again. Jesus is risen and alive: He will no longer ever die. If Jesus is alive it means that he is our contemporary; we can dialogue with him and perceive his attentive and loving gaze on our lives; we can look at him and recognize in him the reality of our own lives. To know that Jesus is risen and alive means that he has truly defeated the power of death.

He has rescued us from the mortal anguish that comes from the mystery of death that manifests itself as a kind of declaration of bankruptcy about life. The big problem with death is not only that it puts an end to life, but it also echoes that our existence is a kind of failure: All that we do or suffer or work at and all we have loved, experienced, or endured has been useless and seems to affirm death. The resurrection, life that is no longer subject to death, gives a fullness of meaning and beauty to the day-to-day nature of our existence; every effort, hope, suffering, and desire finds its true significance.

— from the book Encountering Jesus: A Holy Land Experience
by Vincenzo Peroni