Prophetic change from within

For some people, the fact that the Catholic Church moves at glacier pace -- when it comes to change -- is a source of pride. In their minds, the rest of Christianity of late has been changing with the wind, following whatever is most trendy rather than what has held true since Jesus started it all two thousand years ago.

What they aren't realizing is that Jesus actually instituted very little in the way of structure for his followers. He was about change -- about transforming the stuck-in-a-rut, top heavy religious structures of his day. He was less concerned with the letter of the law and more concerned with showing people how to live their love of God by being open, non-judgmental, inclusive, inviting and welcoming. He was about unity, not division; about connecting rather than setting apart.

So more and more, when I hear people go on about structure and authority and rules and propriety in the context of Church life, and especially "us" vs. "them," I'm afraid I get the heebie-jeebies. Yes, there needs to be enough structure that we actually get around to gathering the people, telling the stories, singing the songs, and breaking the bread together at least once a week, but does it really need to be more complicated than that? And why not think of all those who believe in God as "we"?

I am finding, these days, that when I attend Mass in my local parish, it is hard to say all the theological gobbledygook that I am expected to recite at different times. It is difficult to watch as a male priest stands at the altar all alone, the rest of the community held back from approaching the table by the invisible wall of rules about Eucharist made by the old men at the top of a patriarchal pyramid. It is heartbreaking to know that women who feel called to the priesthood are excommunicated if they act on their call, and that divorced people, people of other denominations and faiths, and those of certain sexual orientations are also not able to share in the community's meal of thanksgiving because they aren't judged to be "one of us," (read: in the right "state of grace"). But what is worst of all is that the Catholic Church clings to all of this non-inclusiveness as if Jesus would insist upon it too.

Jesus. Remember him? The guy who relaxed with tax collectors and sinners. Who eschewed invisible walls of rules and instead offered living water to a less-than-perfect Samaritan woman at the village well. Who loved everyone, and discouraged judgmental attitudes. Who invited us all to come home with him and meet his Abba. I'm thinking he would have called God Imma, too, except that he might have been crucified too soon by the patriarchal people of his day.

Even with my struggles with the Church's glacial pace, two steps forward and three back, I can't sever my Catholic roots, but I also can't shake the feeling that if Jesus started a church today, its liturgies wouldn't look much like the ones to which I'm most accustomed. Jesus would probably gather people in small groups, maybe at a kitchen table. No one would bother wearing clerical clothing to set themselves apart because it's just not necessary. Scripture would be proclaimed, the world and the community's needs would be shared and prayed for, the Spirit would be invoked by the presider, God would be thanked without reference to one gender over another, and everyone would offer each other the blessed bread and wine.

Fortunately for me, I've found a community much like this. It's not perfect by any means, but I can easily imagine Jesus feeling at home enough to slide into a chair and pray along. The format is simple, the prayers follow the usual liturgical format (but without the pompous clutter of the most recent translation of the Roman Missal), the presider can be either an ordained female or male, and no one is turned away. And we are all Catholic (though if the Vatican knew about us, it would probably beg to differ on the point of our Catholicism because we disagree with that one rule about priests being only men and that other rule about participants in the meal having to be in a particular "state of grace.") Unfortunately, I don't get to join this community nearly as often as I would like.

The thing is, there are more and more inclusive Catholic communities -- like the one I have found --gathering all the time around Roman Catholic Women Priests (the group also includes men priests). Seven women were ordained or made deacons in the U. S. in June; more ordinations will take place in September. These women could have chosen to leave the Catholic Church and start new churches or to exercise their vocations in other Christian denominations, but they are Catholic, and they believe that it is time for the Catholic Church to change. So they're being prophetic, and giving the institutional Church a little nudge by being ordained and by celebrating inclusive liturgies wherever people ask (the first women were ordained in 2002 by male bishops in good standing with Rome, so the women haven't disowned the Church as much as the Church has disowned them by excommunication). And more and more, faithful and educated Catholics ARE asking. Whether the institutional church likes it or not, change is coming, and it is coming through committed and prophetic people who are not leaving the church, but who are creating a new model from just within its margins (though Rome refuses to acknowledge most of those particular margins).

There's an interesting documentary floating around these days, called Pink Smoke Over the Vatican. It tells the story of the Roman Catholic Women Priests, and makes a clear case for the ordination of women and inclusive Catholic communities. It makes it obvious that they are not radical feminists with an anti-male agenda, but ordinary women who are quietly living their vocations as women did in early Christianity. According to a fair bit of archaeological and historical research, the early Christian Church was far more inclusive in its first 200 years than the present Catholic Church is now. It seems at times that its glacier pace has actually moved it backward, but to me it feels like the fire of the Holy Spirit is starting to move it forward once again. If you ever have the opportunity to view Pink Smoke, I'd recommend it.

For now, I dream of the day when there are so many inclusive Catholic communities everywhere that all the Pope can do is open his arms and say, "I am sorry it took so long to recognize the gifts of women's vocations to the priesthood, and the validity of inclusive communities. We are all one." In the meantime, I will continue to worship at my parish church sometimes, and at Emmaus Inclusive Catholic Community whenever I can. I love Mass there, and I want to support and encourage a new springtime for women and men in the Catholic Church -- without actually leaving it. I much prefer change from within.

If you would like more information, or to join our inclusive Catholic community for Eucharist in the Edmonton area, check out the community's website by clicking here.

Simple Suggestion #161... Boycott bad business and support the common good

This morning I woke up to the cries and screams of my sisters and brothers at a Bangladesh clothing factory (on the radio). More than 230 of 2000 employees died on Wednesday because the factory bosses ignored an order to close an unsafe eight-storey building with major building code violations that caused huge cracks in its walls. Less than five months ago, another clothing factory caught fire, killing 112 people who were unable to escape because of poor fire code regulations. Survivors say that the doors were locked to keep workers in.

With all the bad news in the world, it's too easy to listen to a radio or tv report, shake our heads, and continue living our lives. After all, Bangladesh is so far away, and what does it really have to do with me? I'm afraid that's what I did after the Tazreen factory fire on November 24th, 2012. I forgot that the people in that fire were my sisters and brothers. I forgot to take it personally.

How many garments do you own with the Made in Bangladesh label? Do you know if those items were made in factories with high safety standards and decent wages for workers? I don't know the answer to either of those questions in my own life, but I know these are issues to which I'm going to be paying a lot more attention. I have the power to create positive change for my brothers and sisters in the clothing industry. So do you. As consumers, we have the ability to vote with our wallets and boycott Bangladesh until proper regulations are put in place and enforced. It also wouldn't hurt to boycott our big North American companies who buy cheap clothes until they actually insist that the workers be paid more than $1.25 per day. I don't know about you, but I don't need an eight dollar t-shirt so desperately that people need to die for it... and I'm willing to pay more so that they can have a living wage.

And it's not just Bangladesh, and not just the clothing industry. There are all sorts of consumer goods being sold for ridiculously low prices by our big box stores... who rely on cheap, overseas labour (often with poor safety regulations and no worker benefits) so that they can undersell local businesses that ask fair prices for locally produced goods. I refuse to darken the door of a Walmart, and my support of local businesses and second-hand stores is on the increase all the time because I just can't stomach the injustices built into our consumer culture. I can, however, do some research and act justly -- to support the common good.

How about you? What would happen if everyone took these things personally?

P.S. Looking for more Simple Suggestions? Click here.

"Mom, why can't women be priests?" Part II

(Click here for Part I.)

This life is an interesting journey, to be sure...

On a recent Sunday morning, I woke up to an interview of Toronto's Cardinal Archbishop Thomas Collins on CBC radio. He was talking to Michael Enright in connection with the 50^th anniversary of the second Vatican Council of the Catholic Church. Michael asked Archbishop Collins about the ordination of women, and his reply was that the church cannot change the male priesthood that was instituted by Christ. And I replied, aloud, “where exactly in scripture did Jesus say that only men could offer the Eucharistic meal and that women aren’t allowed to participate as fully in the priesthood as men? And why do you cling to man-made laws over justice and equality for Jesus’ female followers, who hear God’s call just as clearly as men do?” I'm sure I reacted that way because I know a few of those female followers personally, women who feel they are unable to live their vocation because the Catholic Church won't allow it.

Cardinal Collins’ interview was an interesting start to a day that we had planned, as a family, to go to Ruth’s house for eucharist. I’ve known Ruth for almost 30 years, ever since we both worked at a Catholic youth summer camp, but I had lost touch with her until recently, when I learned (by a series of what a friend of mine likes to call “God-incidents”) that Ruth was ordained a Roman Catholic Woman Priest this past spring. I contacted her, and after some thought and prayer and a few emails back and forth, I finally asked my family what they would think about attending a mass with a woman presider. Without exception, they were all VERY interested, so we let Ruth know we were coming, and off we went.

I know that this moodling will ruffle some feathers (if it hasn't already), but I risk sharing these reflections here because, for me, silent acquiescence to a male-only priesthood feels like a perpetuation of injustice. Over the last few weeks, I've discovered that ruffling a few feathers on this topic brings about interesting discussions and new awareness. Maybe, just maybe, those things can help to bring about the ever-dreaded but often-needed event known as change.

When we arrived at Ruth’s house that Sunday, we were greeted at the door by some of Ruth's community. After introductions all around, we and two others who had never been there before were invited into the living room, where the kitchen table was surrounded by living room furniture and a few strategically placed kitchen chairs. There were duotangs containing the prayers of the liturgy, in which God was God, Source of all Being, Father and Mother God, and tender-God, a name with a double meaning that I really like. Readings were passed out among the group, we had a short music practice of a couple of less familiar hymns, and we began the liturgy in the name of God, Source of all Being, Eternal Word and Holy Spirit. Throughout the celebration, God was transcendently Great and Glorious and Triune, but also close and loving and intimate.

The penitential rite and prayers were less formalistic versions of what we usually hear on a Sunday at our church, with beautiful, evocative imagery. After we heard the scriptures, Ruth began the homily with her own reflections about the story of the Rich Young Man and the other readings, and then invited the gathered community’s reflections. For my husband, this felt more like a bible study than a homily, but our kids were most attentive and interested in the sharing of ideas and self expression. Our kids heard every word of that homily. When I quiz my kids about homilies from the pulpit at our church, the usual response is often a blank-eyed shrug.

The Eucharistic prayer was simple and covered all the usual bases, with no over-emphasis on the masculinity of God. Not having God stuck in male pronouns was refreshing (but no worries, Jesus was definitely male). It was also amazing to hear Ruth pray for our bishops Richard, Gregory and Marie. At that point a tear trickled down my cheek, and I found myself praying that the fullness of humanity could be represented both in the clergy and throughout the liturgy, male and female, simply and without fanfare. A missing piece clicked into place.

We sang no acclamations but the Alleluia and the Holy, but other than that, the mass proceeded as usual until the prayer of Jesus, which began, “Our Mother-Father God, who art in heaven...“and ended, “For the Kin-dom, the power, and the glory are yours...” Ruth broke the bread and offered the plate/patten to the person next to her, saying, “The Body of Christ,” and it was passed from person to person that way, as was the wine. Ruth received communion last of all, a much different model than the one offered by the male-led Catholic Church at present.

After communion, we reflected quietly for a few moments and prayed for peace in the Middle East. The closing prayer concluded with, "The mass is ended. Let your service begin!" We sang River of Glory, and were invited to enjoy coffee and snacks in the kitchen. The cats were allowed out of their bedroom exile, and our kids enjoyed making friends with them while we got to know the other adults.

The mass in Ruth’s living room was simple and beautiful, and there was a warm sense of community among the dozen of us who hardly knew each other at the start. I’m sure Jesus was there among us, and present in the bread and wine consecrated by the Holy Spirit and Ruth, yet at the same time, I felt Rome breathing down my neck, saying, “WE HAVE NOT SANCTIONED THIS. HOW DARE YOU GO AGAINST MOTHER CHURCH!”

It reminded me of the disciples running to Jesus and saying, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us” (Mark 9.38) -- just change the pronoun's gender.

Ugh. If it wasn’t for Rome's rules, it would have been a perfect day.

Our kids enjoyed the experience of mass at Ruth’s, and told Ruth herself that they look forward to return visits. They don’t have their parents’ hesitations and hang ups when it comes to stepping outside of the boundaries set by Rome. My own struggle is not with the idea of women presiding – it’s that so far, the Holy Spirit hasn’t nudged the hierarchy to give Roman Catholic Women Priests full stature in the Church. The Church seems to be going the other way entirely, putting women's ordination on par with pedophilia as a grave sin (I wish it weren't so, but here's a link to a Time Magazine article.) Simply by the fact of her ordination, Ruth has suffered the Church's worst punishment -- being excommunicated -- even though she can trace apostolic succession right back to Christ through the laying on of hands, just like any other priest. But she clearly loves the Church, prays for it, and does what she does because of her love and her desire that it come to fullness in Christ. She IS faithful to the Catholic Church and has been all her life -- the only part of the pope’s teachings that she ignores is where it says that only men can be priests.

The more I think and study and pray and learn, the more I understand that Jesus didn't set out to be the founder of Catholicism, or even Christianity... those things just happened on their own (with some help from the Holy Spirit, whose true intentions are rarely fully followed by we imperfect human beings with our very human biases). That God loves us and wants relationship with us is what Jesus came to show us. Unfortunately, his followers make church about power and authority too much of the time. But as Henri Nouwen says in my Bread for the Journey daily reflections book on October 26th,

There is such an enormous hunger for meaning in life, for comfort and consolation, for forgiveness and reconciliation, for restoration and healing, that anyone who has any authority in the Church should constantly be reminded that the best word to characterize religious authority is compassion. Let's keep looking at Jesus whose authority was expressed in compassion.

I suspect that very compassion would rule out sexism if Jesus had his way. Sexism is an ugly thing wherever we find it in our world, and not, I'm convinced, what Jesus intended. Most of the other Christian churches have recognized this and made necessary changes already. I can't help but think how much richer the Catholic Church would be if everyone who discerns a true calling from God could share their priestly gifts within Christian community! As Ruth is doing. We certainly wouldn't be facing a shortage of time-pressured priests that forces our faith into mega-churches; rather, we would have a wealth of men and women connecting with a world of people hungry for God -- and I'm guessing that most people can find God more easily in intimate Christian communities than in a huge crowd of strangers.

As much as I loved mass at Ruth’s house, I won't turn my back on my little parish community, though I am praying that God’s calling of women to the priesthood in the Catholic Church will soon be as fully recognized as men’s vocations are. I'm delighted to see Ruth quietly answering God's call and living her vocation in her own way, even if it makes her persona non grata in the eyes of the hierarchy. I pray that the Holy Spirit will continue to work gently through the Roman Catholic Women Priests, and that it won't be long before they are called back into the arms of Rome, because when that happens, I think the Church will become much more welcoming and less narrow-minded -- it will become fully inclusive, and create a greater sense of community in the world through its wide compassion.

I was a little concerned that mass with a woman presiding would feel like “playing church,” but that wasn’t the case at all, and I am sure we will join Ruth again from time to time. Eucharist at Ruth’s was a simple, beautiful, and deep experience of God's love, and I came away wondering, for the second time that day, “what is the magisterium so afraid of?” But I suspect the real question is, “Is this the Holy Spirit’s quiet and gentle way of bringing about change, a few hearts at a time?”

God of Conscience, God of Courage, give us whatever grace we need to work for the coming of the reign of God now, here and always. Amen.

-From a prayer by Joan Chittister

"Mom, why can't women be priests?"

It's a question I've faced time and time again. I have three kids who, I'm happy to say, think before they swallow the party line and who reject the response, "because that's how it's always been," if it doesn't make sense.

And honestly, I've never had a good answer for this question, because I also happen to be a woman who thinks for herself and doesn't swallow the party line of my Catholic faith when the party line is archaic and makes no spiritual sense.

I might end up in a lot of hot water for this moodling, but here goes, anyway. I can't help what I think. It's just what I think, and no one has to agree with what I think. I'm just being honest here, so don't shoot me, for honesty's sake.

Yes, Jesus was a man. But if he had been a woman (and yes, that's a bizarre thought, I admit it), would we only have women priests? I somehow doubt it. Women aren't so territorial. We believe in sharing roles. I suspect Jesus did, too, as much as, or maybe even more than his society allowed. And in our society, I suspect he'd be okay with women answering God's call to the priesthood in the same way as men who have sincerely discerned their vocation do. I can't believe that God would only choose men. God doesn't play favourites, though human history does.

Yes, Jesus' disciples were men. But there were also women who followed him, and women who took leadership roles in the early Christian community. Unfortunately, they get pretty short shrift in scripture, but keep in mind that history is always recorded and laws made by the "winners." As a result, I suspect that a good chunk of the feminine portion of Christian history was eradicated by the people who had all the power in those days, though I have read the unobliterated portions of the Gospel of Mary Magdalene. What I liked about Mary's Gospel was that it empowered men and women equally, rather than placing all emphasis on the succession of Peter. But of course, her version of scripture was too mystical to make it into the Bible. If it had, though, I suspect the priesthood would be a healthier place because it would be inclusive, rather than an exclusive club for men.

Yes, Jesus' disciples were mostly men, but as my youngest pointed out to Father at a recent confirmation retreat, it was the women who stood by Jesus at the cross. Father, to his credit, agreed, and also pointed out that the men who followed Jesus were in hiding while the women were at the tomb meeting the Risen Jesus. Father said that women played an important role in Jesus' life, and that they should also be honoured and respected in the church today. That appeased my child somewhat... but not enough.

Honestly, for most of my life, I didn't even think about why women weren't priests. The priests in my life have all been good men without exception, several of whom I count as very dear friends. But in the last few years, questions from my kids and various conversations and encounters with holy women, some with M. Div behind their names, have made me question why it is that the priesthood is only reserved to men. I can't just swallow it now.

The whole argument about priests acting "in persona Christi" -- in the person of Christ -- just doesn't demand maleness in my mind anymore. I have a woman friend who is an Anglican bishop. I know too many Christ-like Catholic women (some of whom are more priestly than some of the priests I've met). And the argument about the Church being the Bride of Christ, and therefore requiring a male counterpart in the priestly role is becoming for me, more and more, a semantic distraction from the real issue: that God made men and women equal, and as equals, we should be able to serve God as equals, even in the priesthood. Wouldn't it make sense that our theologically and sacramentally educated women pastoral assistants could be pastors, too? They often do everything except what's reserved to the priest, and are as educated as a priest... which again begs the question, why should ordination and sacramental ministry just be reserved to Catholic men?

Oh yeah, because Jesus and his disciples were men, and because it's always been that way. Sigh.

Men have been given most of the roles in the church -- from pope on down to deacon -- by default, as the male gender was dominant in the time of Christ. And yes, men are still dominant in many world cultures, but things are changing. Even so, thus far, women are only allowed to be Sisters (nuns), and as such, aren't allowed to preside at eucharist or offer absolution (though a few Sisters have heard my own confessions on more than one occasion). They can't preside at most sacramental celebrations without a special dispensation from a bishop.

And women in the church seem to be valued only if they've taken some sort of vow... so where does that leave single laywomen? And men, if they're not priests or the fathers of good Catholic families, seem to be seen as somehow incomplete by those promoting vocations. Something is wrong with this picture, this over-emphasis on vowed vocations. Yes, we need ordained and consecrated people, but it's too easy to get the feeling that they are the only important ones in the Church's thinking, and this hurts those who aren't called to the priesthood, religious life or marriage. The vocation of "single lay person" is too often ignored and is certainly not celebrated or acknowledged by the Church very often. And recent changes in the Roman Missal would indicate that the Church would rather not allow lay people near the altar at all. Heaven knows we can't usurp the priest's privileged role as presider, even if it's just to do the dishes after communion!

There was a time when lay Catholics (meaning not priests or religious) were a rather uneducated bunch of sheep who blindly followed our "shepherds," but those days are long gone. Since the second Vatican Council in the 1960s, lay people have taken a deeper interest in becoming priests, prophets and holy royalty in our own right, and have learned to think for ourselves about Church teachings. The Church encouraged this for the past 50 years, opening its theological schools to lay people, but now it seems to be re-thinking that decision, preferring "sheep" to educated parishioners who think and question and perhaps even challenge the way things have always been.

Unfortunately, the Church's reversals are pushing spiritually educated people to the margins. For better or worse, social change has come among many of the people of God, and as Cesar Chavez says, "Once social change begins, it cannot be reversed. You cannot uneducate the person who has learned to read. You cannot humiliate the person who feels pride. You cannot oppress the people who are not afraid anymore."

What I am seeing, more and more, is that dedicated lay Catholics, people who have taken courses in theology and worked as pastoral assistants and taught catechism and run youth groups, people who love Jesus and the people of God, these same people are very aware of the Church's attempt to return to pre-Vatican values. But because they are educated lay people, they value themselves and their faith to the point that they can no longer be humiliated or oppressed by an institution that seems to want them to return to their old ways of being sheep, swallowing what they're told without thinking for themselves. Educated Catholics know that God loves and accepts them whether they toe the party line or not.

So more and more of them are simply walking away. I count at least a dozen in my own devout Catholic extended family. And who can blame them? I'm tempted myself at times, especially when I run into people who insist that the Church is always right no matter what, and that I'm too prideful if I can't agree with the Vatican's point of view on any given topic. I'm sorry, but I have come to believe that God loves me and accepts me no matter what, and I have a hard time imagining that He and She will refuse me entrance to heaven if I happen to disagree with the Church's stance on women's ordination or some other contentious issue that I have thought through carefully.

And my friends who have walked away from the Church, some of whom call themselves "recovering Catholics?" Well, they may not be willing to listen to "the party line" at Mass on a Sunday morning anymore, but most of them continue in a deep relationship with Jesus, which can be seen in the way they interact with their neighbours and family members on a daily basis outside of the Church. Instead of meditating on "holy mysteries" (which I sometimes think is Vatican-speak for "we've made up an implausible explanation, but because we're in charge, you have to believe it or you're endangering your soul's hope of heaven), my friends are simply following Jesus' greatest commandments -- "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind and strength, and love your neighbour as you love yourself," but apart from any institution.

I could go on and on, but I already have. So I'll end with last week, when my eldest googled "why can't women be priests?" and came up with the following commentary from a blog somewhere. The line in red angered my child beyond speech:

The Church was not given the authority to ordain women and thus can't ordain women.  It's not a matter of won't ordain or cultural traditions. Women are held in such high esteem by God that they have not been chosen to serve Him in a servant's capacity like a priest.... Women were not meant to be the sacrifice...if that were so, God would have had an only begotten daughter... He was not afraid to break cultural norms, that argument is ridiculous.... It is up to us to serve God in the roles He intended. Let it be done unto us as He wills.

It's an anonymous comment, but if I could, I would be tempted to ask its writer the following questions: How do we know that Jesus and God would still insist on a male only priesthood in 2012? And if women are held in such high esteem that they are not chosen to be priests, what does that say about men who are? If Jesus wasn't afraid to break cultural norms, why has the Church ignored women all these years? And who is to say what God intends? Human beings and human institutions? Form an institution, and everything seems to get a lot more complicated than it was orginally intended to be. Including the most recent translation of liturgical prayer, but I've already ranted on that.

I know it will take a lot of adjustment for the people of God in the Catholic church if the priesthood is opened equally to all believers. But I also deeply believe the Church would be a much healthier place if it wasn't running on so much testosterone. The Church has always managed to cope with growing pains of various kinds. Of course, it may take a few lifetimes for things to change... unless the Holy Spirit jumps in, as She and He did with Vatican II.

All I can say to my angry and speechless child is, "I know, kiddo, I know. Let's pray that the institutional Church soon educates itself and others about how to respect women as equals rather than inventing all sorts of semantically silly reasons that they're not fit to serve. Let's pray that the hierarchy gives thinking people of God some credit, and soon. If clerical gender roles were switched, and only women could serve God in the priestly role, you can bet men would be clamouring for justice the way women are now. But in the meantime, let's keep our eyes on Jesus and try not to let frustrations like this get in the way of our relationship with him."

Of course, this is only my opinion. God bless us all. Come, Holy Spirit!

(Click here for "Mom, why can't women be priests?" Part II.)

For a good Good Friday 2012

This Sunday, I'm thinking about Friday. Last year, I recommended as much silence as possible for Good Friday. It's still a good plan to have a quiet day (we have a no computers/TV rule), but this year, I'd like to invite you to participate in my favourite Good Friday reflections.

Invitation #1: At 10 a.m., you're invited to gather with a good-sized crowd, rain or shine, outside of Hope Mission (9908-106 Avenue) to participate in the 32nd Annual Outdoor Way of the Cross. It's an ecumenical prayer event commemorating the suffering and death of Jesus, that offers time to notice how the gospel values of Jesus are important to individual and social life today (I'm plagiarizing from the advertizing and throwing in my own comments as well, but I suspect this is a case where the organizers won't mind being plagiarized). People of all faith traditions are warmly welcome. The walk begins and ends at the same location, and participants are advised to dress for the weather (I'll add a few exclamation marks to that last statement)!!! It's not a strenuous walk, as our L'Arche Edmonton community, including those in wheelchairs, participate every year -- the picture above shows one of my L'Arche friends closest to the camera. This year, we're particularly excited because we get to present Station 5, which focuses on Homelessness. I'm looking forward to participating in the music group, too.

The full walk takes about two hours, and there is fellowship with refreshments after the final station. Donations of non-perishable food and toiletry items are welcomed. As much as I appreciate church services on Good Friday, I appreciate this even more, because there's something really powerful about walking in the inner city in solidarity with the brothers and sisters there, reflecting on what we are called to  as Christians, and re-enacting Christ's walk to Calvary. Many of our inner-city brothers and sisters join us as we reflect on Christ's words in the 25th chapter of Matthew's Gospel, bringing his words to life:

" Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you? Or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?"

And the King will answer them, "Truly I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of my brothers and sisters, you did it to me." 

Invitation #2: You're invited to Good Friday Taizé Prayer Around the Cross, at 7:30 p.m. at Providence Renewal Centre (3005-119 Street). It's a beautiful hour of meditative scripture-based song that centers on a simple wooden cross.

If you're in the neighbourhood, please come to either or both of these events. The reason I love them so much is because they gather Christians from every denomination together to remember what is common to us all... Jesus, who set us free by leading us to new life! Laudate omnes gentes, laudate Dominum! Sing praises, all you peoples, sing praises to the Lord!

If you're nowhere near Edmonton, I'd love to hear about your own meaningful ways to mark Good Friday wherever you are.

Have a blessed Holy Week.

Simple Suggestion #84... Engage in justice issues

Our world has no shortage of injustice, so it's not hard to find a cause in which to engage, or an organization that needs support in its efforts to right wrongs in our communities, countries, or world. Plug the word injustice into a search engine, and you may end up with 40 million hits, but don't let that fool you. People are willing to claim almost anything as injustice, from the unfair wages of a football pro to the cost of a manicure.

But let's get real. True injustice exists where living beings are denied their rights to food, water, appropriate living space and the ability to meet their basic needs -- and this where involvement and intervention are essential from those who have the ability to make a difference. If we are to ensure the basics of life for all, unfairness, discrimination, prejudice, bias and wrongdoing can't be a part of what we do. A world of fairness, equality, equity and goodness isn't an unattainable Utopia if we do more than talk about those ideals -- if we do our best to bring them into existence everywhere we go. We are all called to act justly, love tenderly, and walk humbly with God and creation.

The problem is that so many of our world's injustices seem too big and black to handle -- that we'll never be able to do more than light our one tiny candle. But one candle is still a candle, and it can light many others if we're willing to share the flame in our hearts, our desire that things be right.

So here's a little list of candles anyone can light. If you have any to add, I'd be happy to lengthen the list. And if we all hold our little lights high, eventually, the world won't be quite so dark.

• Help Amnesty International to rescue a human rights activist from incarceration or torture
• Join the World Wildlife Fund, Ducks Unlimited, or other animal welfare agencies to see where help is needed
• Write a letter to a newspaper editor about a local justice issue that needs to be addressed, or organize a meeting of interested stakeholders
• Get involved in reforestation projects
• Mentor a local child who needs some adult attention, or sponsor one in the developing world through an organization like Plan Canada

And there are dozens, if not hundreds, of other possibilities. I found a really neat website that has many suggestions for activities that take 15 minutes, a few hours, or a few days' effort. I'm not sure how up-to-date it is or where it originates, but it gave me lots of food for thought by reminding me of local opportunities to be an activist in my own small ways.

And I'd like to suggest that getting our children involved in justice issues at an early age sets them on the path toward being compassionate and well-rounded adults. It will also mean that our world will be a brighter place, and that's definitely worth our engagement.

P.S. Looking for more Simple Suggestions? Try here.

Ten years ago...

... my husband woke me to kiss me goodbye, and mentioned that a plane had just hit the World Trade Towers in New York. I immediately thought Cessna and got up to make coffee. As we said our morning prayers at the back door, the second plane hit. When I turned on the radio five minutes later, it became clear that the planes were not Cessnas and I wondered what kind of world our children would inherit.

We walked my daughter to school, then I took my two kindergarteners (I looked after a friend's son at the time) and toddler to the local IGA for a few groceries. As we walked in the door, I saw people standing stock still in the aisles, listening to radio news blaring from the PA system, announcing that the first tower had just fallen. A thousand questions from the kindergarteners. We walked home with our groceries, I set the kids up with a game, and went to the basement to turn on the TV...

Two days later as I was reading a library book to my youngest about "what love is," I burst into tears. Jay went to get me some tissues, too little to understand why Mommy was crying.

Ten years and two wars later, what can we do but work for the equality that doesn't breed terrorism and pray for peace? I still love St. Francis' prayer the best:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon.

Where there is doubt, faith.

Where there is despair, hope.

Where there is darkness, light.

Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive.

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

Live right now

The national public radio station I wake up to every morning is on a health kick this year. It and its affiliated TV station have a "Live Right Now" program running, with webspace broadcasting healthy ideas for Canadians (this week's is "Stretch it out") and a reality TV show called "Village on a Diet," in which the villagers of Taylor, British Columbia have pledged to collectively lose a ton of weight in an effort to be fitter.

Good for them, I say. Nothing like getting our bodies in good physical shape. But what about our lives?

Today was my day at St. Vincent de Paul's clothing room. As I unpacked bag after bag of donated items, I was thinking about what it would take for society to be in excellent spiritual health. And when I got home and started looking through my email, I came across a column written by my friend/cousin Ron. It really resonates with my moodlings about spiritual fitness:

http://www.ronrolheiser.com/columnarchive/?id=618

If we really want to live right now, and not just physically, it would seem that we need to put aside preoccupation with wealth, competition and things that do violence to our relationships with each other and the planet, and focus on caring for widows, orphans and strangers, work for "the survival of the weakest," and spend our lives being "justice with love."

Physical fitness without spiritual health is pointless, as our bodies aren't the eternal part of us. And like Cardinal Sin says, justice without love is baloney, after all.

God speaks...

Today is the longest, darkest day of the year in the northern part of the world, winter at its height. Where I live, we receive only 7 hours and 28 minutes of daylight. The good news is that from this afternoon on, our daylight begins to lengthen again.
What's really interesting to me is that today the Christian lectionary (the scripture readings chosen for each day of the year) has the following as the Old Testament Reading:

The voice of my beloved!
   Look, he comes,
leaping upon the mountains,
   bounding over the hills. My beloved is like a gazelle
   or a young stag.
Look, there he stands
   behind our wall,
gazing in at the windows,
   looking through the lattice. My beloved speaks and says to me:
'Arise, my love, my fair one,
   and come away: for now the winter is past,
   The rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth;
   the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtle-dove
   is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth its figs,
   and the vines are in blossom;
   they give forth fragrance.
Arise, my love, my fair one,
   and come away. O my dove, in the clefts of the rock,
   in the covert of the cliff,
let me see your face,
   let me hear your voice;
for your voice is sweet,
   and your face is lovely.'


                -- Song of Songs 2. 8-14 (NRSV)

These are probably my favourite verses in the entire bible. The first time I came across them, I felt like I was living in the deepest darkness. But here was God speaking to me like a lover; telling me things were going to improve; that light was returning; that spring was coming again. God called me "my love." That really blew me away!

These days, Christianity has a lot of detractors (many of them making pretty good points about how a lot of Christians have lost Jesus' vision to bring good news to the poor, free captives, heal the sick, reach out to the marginalized, etc.) Personally, I think that if more people understood themselves and everyone else to be loved by the God represented in the passage above rather than by a judgmental God, we would make more efforts to care for the forgotten members of society and make Jesus' vision a reality. Acting justly, loving tenderly and walking humbly with God would not be an issue!

If you have a few minutes today, let God call you "my love." See if it doesn't make the depths of winter darkness seem a little less harsh. Here's a link to a little website called Pray As You Go, and if you click on December 21, it will give you today's 12 minute reflection on the reading above.

http://www.pray-as-you-go.org/

Happy Winter Solstice! 

One of my favourite seasons

Today is the first Sunday of Advent. On the Christian calendar, New Year's Day. I've always loved the season of Advent because it contains so many words of hope. During the darkest days in our northern regions, hope is essential. It warms the chill, mellows anxiety, promises peace... but only if we beat our swords into plowshares and our spears into pruning hooks. Advent is a time to listen to the prophets of the past (and present)... and to ACT justly, LOVE tenderly and WALK humbly (Micah 6:8) with God and everything in God's creation. That is the way of hope, desperately needed in a world of people who have been convinced that they can buy happiness if only they find the right store.

So how will we act justly, love tenderly, and walk humbly this new year? Again, if we listen, we hear it clearly and simply in the words of a prophet called Isaiah:

If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
   with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
   and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
   and your night will become like the noonday (58:9b-10).

Finding ways to beat swords into ploughshares, do away with oppression and malice, and spend ourselves for the hungry and marginalized sounds like a darn good new year's resolution to me...