Sunday, August 26, 2012

Nun is a lot!

Much of the influence that has helped to mold me as a person I credit to women of faith. First and foremost, to my mother, whom I have recognized and given to you in more detail in previous posts of this blog. But, more behind the scenes, I have benefited from the faith and wisdom of Catholic sisters. I owe much of my education and my catechism to them. Specifically, I remember Sister France Anne who was my first principal and led with love and courage (even when I was being disciplined.) I also remember Sister Judy who took a few of us out for Big Macs for helping her with office chores. Sister Carol was a gentle influence. She was one of the first teachers to encourage my creativity and share a bit of her religious life. Sister Rose Anne taught me passionately about social justice.

I observed, early on, that these sisters lived together. Only later would I discover that they lived in community, which heavily influenced my decision to work and live that way. In my adult life, I have had several fulfilling relationships with sisters who I have met through the the Catholic Worker movement and in other circles where I have chosen to associate myself with people who are committed to work for peace and justice.  I am indebted to them! I talk about this work. I have high ideals and want the world a certain way. They put themselves in harms way to make it so. They witness violence and terror in places most of us would not go.  They speak the truth in lands where this is dangerous to do and challenge politicians without being directly political. They live and work on the margins of our society, giving to the the poorest of the poor and the weakest of the weak. They are the servants of the church. (Let it be said that there are many priests and brothers doing this same work, but men are not being specifically challenged right now-to my knowledge.)

In recent days, the wisdom and value of these sisters has been questioned. An investigation, commissioned by the Vatican, has called sisters to the carpet and proposed that they are supporting values which are contrary to the values of the church. There are clear differences in the experiences of those on the front lines from those enforcing the laws of the church, pinned to its dogma. Any church doctrine that suggests someone operating outside the lines of the church is any less of a person or less whole in God's eyes needs to be questioned. As people, as a society, we have evolved in our recognition of the reality of human sexuality and we have given (at least lawfully) women the right to serve as equals in all offices. Women of the Catholic church deserve this same consideration. They fight for justice in the world and they deserve justice in their home, the church.

I stand with these sisters. I pray for them. I value what they have done for the church and for the world. I want to listen. I want to see what the church can learn from them. The officer commissioned to conduct the investigation has said, in so many words, that conformity is the only response the Vatican will accept. I hope this is not true. I hope the church will find an opportunity in this chasm to establish communities where people can hear the Word and know the Word is speaking to them. It will take time. It will take compromise and sacrifice. But this must happen for the church to survive these times. It must happen for the church to be whole and remain holy.




Monday, August 20, 2012

Beyond Imagination

"Did you ever imagine you could love anyone so much?" These were the words of your Grandma Craig when you were born, Valeria. This was a question that was easily answered. No. I never could have imagined. Even now, as you sit pouting in your bed, angry because you don't think I understand you...even now, it is hard to imagine how I am capable of loving you this much.

I have done some selfish things in my life and I once wondered if I was big enough to ever give my love unselfishly. You exist because I am and I will never stop loving you. I will disagree with you and look at you side-eyed and punish you when I feel there is no other way to teach you. I will be wrong and I will try to own up to mistakes as we go. I will forget things and get preoccupied with things not near as important as you are. But I promise I will do my best. You are in the front of my mind no matter where I am. There is not a day that I don't tell a story about you or brag about you or just gleam with pride and adoration as I show off your picture.

I hope that, by the time you read this, your memories give weight to what I'm saying here. I have big hopes for you. I worry sometimes, but not near as much as I hope. I hope you know you are loved, especially at the lowest and hardest times in your life. I hope you are held in esteem at the things that you love to do and in the company you choose to be with. I hope you remember how good you are even when others forget or don't know. Finally, I hope that your goodness spreads like wildfire to those around you and that you will know God's love as you give your heart to a hungry world.

You are my angel. Your small hand in mine so many times a day. Your sweet eyes that love me back  even when I don't feel loveable. And your tears and rage and resistance. All part of the moments that make me feel alive. I am with you- always.








Saturday, August 11, 2012

Away with Words!




Honest armadillo- I'm just a short order, shank happy, beans and rice, kiss and make up kind of guy. And yet, on the wings of words, I feel higher than my limited stature would allow on a given day. In this window of space I am free to be the man I want to be, the man I dream to be or even some version of my real self. It's all good! There was a time when I thought maybe this venue would be a vessel to move toward greatness. Anymore I hope I can move toward grace. Words, in the recess of the mind, spill out like dice on a game board and I'm left to make the next move. If I delay, I forfeit. If I submit, I am ultimately rewarded with at least a feeling of release. Occasionally the result is relief. So I pause and ponder and pontificate. The words meet air and I scramble to gather all and keep them warm and sheltered in sentences. And, with a wisp; nothing, empty--out! "Come again" the sign might read. And I return to my dull existence.