Ode to my topsy turvy son

My boy doesn’t walk in a neat and tidy motion…
the level ground is not his friend.

A cloud under his soles is relentlessly conspiring

Between the mountaintop and its glen.

A boy who walks in straight even ways

May have a plan easy to discern.

But my boy, who prefers to swirl and rotate

In the air it seems is where he best learns.

One skinny leg jutting here, another one there

Higher and higher each time.

This topsy turvy boy is quick......wherever he’s going

But never in a straight and predictable line!

The Heart of Every Father there is a Poet

As I was reflecting on Father’s Day, I came across a writing by the great Catholic philosopher, G.K. Chesterton.  What I like about this man is that he doesn’t argue that logic is wrong, but he argues that a lack of creativity and imagination will create insanity. He argues for the poet in all of us.  I have used one of his writings from his book “Orthodoxy” as a basis for my own reflection on fatherhood. Here is my reflection:

The basis of fatherhood is simple. A good father must be a poet.  This allows him to navigate easily in a never ending sea of God’s love and goodness.  Without a spirit of poetry, a father will only be grounded by reason and logic.  Reason tries to make the infinite finite.  Logic desires justification. 

A father anchored only by reason and logic will see his little boy’s typical Saturday morning football game as a chance for rivalry and physical dexterity. He will demand  of his son competence and cleverness , yet the father who is a poet will be able to see the game from his little boy’s stance: a day to share an open grassy field with his dad, his protector,  and find out how many puddles he can find on the field to tackle on.

A father who always operates on reason and logic becomes exhausted quickly.  He will strain to understand everything and to know everything and to be everything for his children.  The poetic father will prefer openness to a relationship with his children and joy in seeing them live in right relationship and joy with God and with others. 

The poetic father searches and creates a world that allows him to increase his love for his children.  This kind of father begs God daily to allow his children a glimmer of heaven; while the rational father will search to create a heaven for his children.  The logical father may be disappointed when he realizes that heaven is too large for even his own imagination. It is in our own willingness to deny ourselves on their behalf,  to endure  their illnesses and their questions with patience, to love them despite everything, to trust them, to let them go and become their own person; this way we can be a reflection of God’s love, we can be a glimmer of heaven for them.

So, it is simple then: Fathers be in prayer every day! Let prayer be your gateway to the poetry that no doubt is at the center of every father's heart.

I am thankful for my own Father, my father in law, and my husband, each who I know pray daily for thier children and have personally sacrficed for them as well.  Each one of you have hearts and minds of poets!!  Happy Father's Day!!

O Sacred Heart

Sacred Heart of Jesus by Mexican artist Jose Maria Ibarraran y Ponce

We are, as people, are always looking for creative ways to express our reality. We may observe a sunset and become inspired to paint it, write about it, or put a melody together that allows us to relive that experience; the simple ending of a day. 

Today our Catholic Church gathers to celebrate the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Many of us are familiar with the iconic image of this devotion. Depending on the artist’s rendition, the image can be very grotesquely literal, very folksy or very mystical.  Many churches are named after Jesus’ Sacred Heart. Visiting Paris some years ago, I marveled from a distance the Sacre Coeur church on the top of Monte Mart hill.    This name, which in french means, "Sacred Heart"  fit so well with the colossal structure. This structure seemed to announce to the entire city even from miles away … the love of Jesus’ is an overwhelming concept!

Christian believers are challenged and compelled to express how much God loves us. In our limited vernacular we struggle with what we are given. Ultimately, those religious places or images are created in order to provoke us to love deeply or to stop us in our tracks and remind of us our smallness in comparison to God’s profound love; always it should inspire us to love others as Jesus loves us.  Can we open OUR hearts to this reality? 

Like when I listen to Vivaldi’s well organized notes, it puts me in awe of the fierceness of a storm or the gentleness of springtime; as when I contemplate a Van Gogh’s starry night, I am left in wonderment of a night sky; I can reflect on the image of Jesus’ heart as depicted by one of many artists or through experiencing a magnificent temple dedicated to Jesus Sacred Heart.  I am exposed to this reality: that everything in this world has at its center the love of God, through his son, Jesus Christ. It is a love so mysterious, so alive, and so profound that no art, no building, no song can truly capture this reality; all we can do is celebrate that it is so. 

How do we celebrate it? Through the Mass, we come together as one, we are transformed through the Eucharist and through God's Word.  We are challenged to open our hearts to accept this truth:

The great secret, the great mystery, is this: there is a heart of the world...And this heart is the heart of Christ.

Teilhard de Chardin S.J

Did you know that there are 1.3 million homeless YOUTH in the US?  Yesterday Hillsborough County had their Homeless Youth Forum and Philomena Johnson, my faith formation partner and Coordinator of Youth Ministries participated. I had planned to be there, but was called away with another committment. Phil shared with me so much of what she learned later that afternoon....well, I'll let her say it in her own words through an email she sent me...
"It was a very insightful morning and I learned a great deal about not only our county and the plight of homeless teens we have but also some staggering numbers for our state. Very sad! There was a panel of teens who are currently homeless who shared their stories and while all sad; the strength and courage these young people exhibited gives me great hope. They were all extremely positive about what they want to do with their lives, aside from all wanting and desiring an education they all wanted to give back to people in need. Gov. Rick Scott was there and signed into effect a new bill which will allow homeless teens to gain access to their birth records and have the ability to make decisions for themselves since their parents have basically thrown them away. The bill was brought to the House and Senate by other teens from Armwood High School, which I though was awesome. They knew of fellow students who were homeless and the problems that they were having and struck out to make a difference. Now if teens can find the solutions, what is stopping us?"
Phil sat with Ms. Ellie Kurzawa, pastor of a local non-denominational Christian church, with whom we have been working with since last year, serving the homeless people in our own city.  Our youth and families have committed to serve food on Friday night and to pray with those who are hungry and looking for food or drink.  Through Ms. Ellie, we have learned how to work together as ONE community of baptized Christians to do the Lord's work.  She has been doing this  with a smile and a big heart for over 15 years, rain, sleet or shine. The homeless are her friends and she has introduced them to us by name. She is an inspiration to Phil and I!
For more info. on the homeless youth in our area and their personal stories check out this link: http://invisibleinnocence.com/
So to quote my collegue Philomena....if youth can find a solution what is stopping us?

The Creator and the Clay

As a young college art student I studied and fell in love with the art of Raku. I was transformed by its humble and natural process;  a type of pottery which is so unpredictable and yielded so many wonderful unplanned cracks and patterns on the surface of each piece that I would create.  After working the clay, shaping it and firing it so it became a bisque, we would take our piece outdoors and place each in big old metal barrels already burning inside with combustible materials such as pine needles, pine cones,  and then would be covered with metal lids in an attempt to control the amount of oxygen permitted inside.  The smoke that escaped from the firing would sting my eyes, as we waited in the winter sun for this second firing, prayng our piece would survive and not shatter inside the burning drum. One could hear some explode, as they would not tolerate the shock of being heated to a high heat very quickly.  Once it got fired in this manner, we would immediately remove each piece with giant tongs and  dunk the red glowing pieces into a  barrel of water; this would instantly stop the chemical reaction. The smoke would leave any portion of the unglazed surface black.  Each creation would be devoid of pretentiousness, each was unique, and each were brought to life through the creators ability to “enjoy the freedom”, which is what Raku means.

The interesting thing about Raku ceremonial vessels is that they are not utilitarian pieces because they don’t hold liquids well, due to their essence, they eventually it begins to leak. According to the Zen Masters, this art form must be looked at with a different attitude. It is valued because it is said that the Spirit of the Creator is embodied in its form. It is traditionally left unglazed (naked) because its beauty is expressed in this nature, and if one reflects on the form of each Raku piece it will enlighten us to the rhythm of life.

I have never forgotten the process of Raku and it is easy to see how people trying to make sense of their existence would have used the metaphor of the potter and clay. In my own small way, I have reflected on my own Raku experience and it’s analogy for my own life. Here is my reflection:

v  I, creator, pounded the clay, keeping it moist I was able to shape it

A gray form emerged.  I loved it into being.

Pinching the edges I added texture.

 I cradled it in my hands.  The form was good.

But, it was not beautiful yet.

v  I, creator, laid  the form in  a  burning manger of needles from nearby trees

Flames overtook the form.  I allowed it to disappear.

Swirling smoke consumed it all.

I waited patiently.  The sweet aroma was good.

But, it was not perfect yet.

v  I, creator, lifted up  a perfectly  blackened piece  from the ashes

Into water the form now surrendered. I transformed its essence.

Purifying itself once more through the elements

I plunged in after it.  With thanksgiving I rose it up into the air

My work now completed.

It was good.

v  I, clay, am thankful for my existence.

I could not have fashioned myself with such care

I would have not had the strength to be transformed by your creative fire

I would not have had the wisdom to know dying in your waters  purifies me

Alone, I would not have understood that all of your creation is perfected and completed

In your in your grace,

You are Goodness and love.