WHY ARE WE HERE?

A mother camel and her baby are talking one day and the baby camel asks, “Mom why have we got these huge three-toed feet?” The mother replies, “To enable us trek across the soft sand of the desert without sinking.”

“And why have we got these long, heavy eyelashes?” “To keep the sand out of our eyes on the trips through the desert” replies the mother camel.

“And Mom, why have we got these big humps on our backs?” The mother, now a little impatient with the boy replies, “They are there to help us store fat for our long treks across the desert, so we can go without water for long periods.”

“OK, I get it!” says the baby camel, “We have huge feet to stop us sinking, long eyelashes to keep the sand from our eyes and humps to store water. Then, Mom, why the heck are we here in the Toronto zoo?”

Source: Unknown

CONSIDER THIS

Lent is the time for the desert experience. We cannot all afford to buy a camel and head off for the desert. But we can all create a desert space in our overcrowded lives. We must from time to time return to the desert.

• In the desert we come to know ourselves, our strengths and weaknesses.
• In the desert we will remember who we truly are: the beloved of God, the Source of all. 
• In the desert we will hear our name spoken, we will remember our chosenness, our mission, our calling.
• In the desert we will learn how to wrestle with seeming opposites: the holy spirit and satan, angel and beast, the contradictions that when consciously embraced will make us whole (and holy).

FIVE LEGS?

Lincoln was trying to make a point. His hearer was unconvinced and stubborn. So Lincoln tried another tack. He said to the disputer, “Well, let’s see now. How many legs does a cow have?” The disgusted reply came back “Four, of course.” Lincoln agreed, “That’s right. Now, suppose you call the cow’s tail a leg; how many legs would the cow have?” The opponent replied confidently, “Why, five, of course.” Lincoln came back, “Now that’s where you’re wrong. Calling a cow’s tail a leg doesn’t make it a leg!”

Source: James S. Hewett
Illustrations Unlimited
(Wheaton: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc, 1988.) Page 483.a.

CONSIDER THIS

How would you describe or define truth?

Spend some time with these two nuggets of wisdom:

“It is a puzzling thing. The truth knocks on the door and you say, ‘Go away, I’m looking for the truth . . . and so it goes away. Puzzling.” –Robert M. Pirsig

“Truth is an eternal conversation about things that matter, conducted with passion and discipline. Truth is the process of inquiry and dialogue itself, that keeps testing old conclusions and coming up with new ones.  It is commitment to the conversation.” –Parker Palmer, The Courage to Teach.

OPTI OVER PESSI

A pessimist read his horoscope. It said, “Make new friends and see what happens.” He made three new friends and nothing happened. Now he complains that he is stuck with three new friends.

CONSIDER THIS

That’s the problem with having a negative attitude. No matter how good something is, negative thinkers will always find something to complain about.

YOU CAN STAY AT MY HOUSE

It was Christmas Eve at the famed Riverside Church in New York City, and with William Sloan Coffin, Jr. scheduled to preach, the pews were packed. The Christmas Pageant was on and had come to the point where the innkeeper was to say that there was no room at the inn for Joseph and Mary pregnant with Jesus.

The part seemed perfect for Tim, an earnest youth of the congregation who has Down Syndrome.  Only one line to memorize and he had practiced it again and again with his parents and with the pageant director. He seemed to have mastered it. 

So there Tim stood at the altar, a bathrobe over his clothes, as Mary and Joseph made their way down the center aisle.  They approached him, said their lines, and waited for his reply. “There’s no room at the inn,” he boomed out, just as rehearsed. 

But then, as Mary and Joseph turned to travel further, Tim suddenly yelled, “Wait!”  They turned back startled.  “You can stay at my house,” he called.

Bill Coffin strode to the pulpit, said “Amen,” and sat down. 

It was, as Marian Edelman says, the best sermon he never preached.

Source: Walter J. Burghardt, A Maryknoll Book of Inspiration
(Zondervan, 2002) page 77

CONSIDER THIS

“You can stay at my house.” What does it mean to us?  How has this story, this question, formed you and how you live you life?  How has it influenced how you live and how you treat all those who cross your path? 

What doors might we open this year to make room in our minds and hearts out should and our spirit to invite the love of the Christ Child into our lives more fully?

What doors might we need to open so that we feel less fearful, less anxious, less upset each day? 

What doors might we need to carefully close … perhaps the doors that do not lead us to love, justice, beauty, peace, hope and understanding. 

BLESSING BY SR JOYCE RUPP FOR THE MERGING NEW YEAR

Standing at the Gates of the New Year
Sacred Mystery,
Waiting on the threshold
Of this new year,
You open the gates
And beckon to us:
“Come! Come!
Be not wary of what awaits you
As you enter the unknown terrain,
Be not doubtful of your ability
To grow from its joys and sorrows.
For I am with you.
I will be your Guide.
I will be your Protector.
You will never be alone.”
Guardian of this new year,
We set aside our fear, worries, concerns,
We open our lives to mystery, to beauty,
To hospitality, to questions,
To the endless opportunity
Of discovering you in our relationships,
And to all the silent wisps of wonder
That draw us to your heart.
We welcome your unfailing Presence

And walk with hope into this new year.

From: Joyce Rupp, Out of the Ordinary

THE WEIGHT OF GLASS

Once upon a time a psychology professor walked around on a stage while teaching stress management principles to an auditorium filled with students. As she raised a glass of water, everyone expected they’d be asked the typical “glass half empty or glass half full” question. Instead, with a smile on her face, the professor asked, “How heavy is this glass of water I’m holding?”

Students shouted out answers ranging from eight ounces to a couple pounds.

She replied, “From my perspective, the absolute weight of this glass doesn’t matter. It all depends on how long I hold it. If I hold it for a minute or two, it’s fairly light. If I hold it for an hour straight, its weight might make my arm ache a little. If I hold it for a day straight, my arm will likely cramp up and feel completely numb and paralyzed, forcing me to drop the glass to the floor. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn’t change, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it feels to me.”

As the class shook their heads in agreement, she continued, “Your stresses and worries in life are very much like this glass of water. Think about them for a while and nothing happens. Think about them a bit longer and you begin to ache a little. Think about them all day long, and you will feel completely numb and paralyzed — incapable of doing anything else until you drop them.”

Source: Short Stories Of Inspiration & Motivation
Chris Blenning (2018) pages 12-13

CONSIDER THIS

It’s important to remember to let go of your stresses and worries. No matter what happens during the day, as early in the evening as you can, put all your burdens down. Don’t carry them through the night and into the next day with you. If you still feel the weight of yesterday’s stress, it’s a strong sign that it’s time to put the glass down.

“Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow, it only saps today of its joy.” –Leo F. Buscaglia

“People get so in the habit of worry that if you save them from drowning and put them on a bank to dry in the sun with hot chocolate and muffins they wonder whether they are catching a cold.” –John Jay Chapman

Photo by Nicolas Ruiz

THE RELUCTANT OAK TREE

Once upon a time, there was a giant oak tree in the middle of a city park. Its branches stretched out generously on every side so that the tree was a welcome haven for lots of creatures. Birds and squirrels nested high up in the forks of the tree. One morning, a small acorn in its hard leathery shell fell from the tree and plopped onto the carpet of grass beneath. It was a pretty little acorn. Luckily the jays and pigeons did not notice it, because had they seen it, they most certainly would have devoured it.

The acorn was happy with life on the lush grass and wanted things to remain just as they were. The last thing it wanted—God forbid!—was to become an oak tree. It had heard frightening stories about oak trees that had been cut down by human beings or had been struck by nasty bolts of lightning. The little acorn settled comfortably on the grass, and in the days and weeks that followed, it sank slowly and snugly into the soil beneath. 

Eventually, the water from rain and the warmth of the sun conspired together to transform the acorn into a small green shoot. One day, the shoot cautiously poked up through the grass. It was not happy with this new state of affairs; it had changed and become a new self against its will. 

“Well,” it resolved, “I’m not growing any taller than this.”

However, the park gardener took a liking to this fragile green sprout and started to nurture it. Each day he came by to see how it was doing, and he cleared away weeds so that the rays of the sun could shine directly on it. Before it knew what was happening, the shoot was on its way to becoming a sapling. It was devastated. Not only was life as an acorn irretrievably lost, but now it seemed that life as a shoot was gone forever as well. This really was out of order. It decided that enough was enough: it would not grow any leaves. But the park gardener was nothing if not persistent, and continued to care assiduously for this tender young tree. He fastened it against a stake to help it withstand strong winds, and regularly pruned its branches. In early spring, the first buds appeared, and then the first leaves. The leaves were large and green, and tipped with bristles. On the underside their delicate veins were clearly visible.

The young oak tree decided that this would truly be the end of the road: it did not want any more change. With all its might, it forbade each leaf from changing color in the fall. But the gentle gardener had other plans. He continued to watch over the tree. He watered its roots when the weather was dry. He fertilized the ground beneath it. Over time, its leaves changed to a rich red. Small groups of people began to gather in the park to look at what had now become a giant tree. They gazed spellbound as its leaves blazed red against the evening sky in autumn.

The huge oak tree became a generous home for human beings, animals, and birds. Squirrels built their dens between its sturdy branches. Many kinds of birds, from woodpeckers to red-tailed hawks, made their nests in it. New acorns grew and dropped from the tree to the lush grass beneath. Some were eaten by squirrels and blue jays. Others sank into the soil and began their own long journey to become future oak trees. The tree’s dense crown provided a cool umbrella against the sun’s glare in summer and the biting wind in winter. Yet the oak tree had still not come to terms with its lot.

But something happened one winter night that led to a groundbreaking change. An icy windstorm descended upon the park and wreaked havoc everywhere, badly damaging the huge oak tree as well. The next morning when the storm had passed, the gardener came by to check on the oak tree and saw that many of its branches were broken. He carefully cut them away and painstakingly applied soothing ointment to the tree. He placed heavy wooden planks around it and encircled the trunk in a wire mesh.

After working a long time on his knees at the base of the tree, the gardener paused for a moment. He turned his face upward. The giant oak tree looked down at his glowing face, a countenance that radiated wisdom and acceptance. At that moment, something changed for the oak tree. It was not a matter of becoming resigned to its fate or tolerating its lot; instead it now recognized its life as a blessing. Its leaves rustled in the wind and even its majestic trunk swayed slightly as it breathed in a newfound serenity and uttered a wholehearted yes. 

Source: Thomas G. Casey SJ and Margaret Brennan Hassett,
From Fear to Serenity with Anthony de Mello
(Paulist Press, 2011) Pages 70-72

CONSIDER THIS

“Never shy away from opportunity and wholehearted living. Never be fearful of putting yourself out there. The courageous may encounter many disappointments, experience profound disillusionment, gather many wounds; but cherish your scars for they are the proud emblems of a truly phenomenal life. The fearful, cautious, cynical and self-repressed do not live at all. And that is simply no way to be in this world.”  ―Anthon St. Maarten

DAUGHTER OF THE KING

Once upon a time there was a country ruled by a king. The country was invaded and the king was killed, but his children were rescued by servants and hidden away. The smallest, an infant daughter, was reared by a peasant family. They didn’t know she was the king’s daughter. She had become the peasant’s daughter and she dug potatoes and lived in poverty.

One day an old woman came out of the forest and approached the young woman who was digging potatoes. The old woman asked her, “Do you know who you are?” And the young woman said, “Yes, I’m the peasant’s daughter and a potato digger.” The old woman said, “No, no, you are the daughter of the king.” And the potato digger said, “I’m the daughter of the king?” “Yes, yes, that’s who you are!” she replied and then disappeared back into the forest.

After the old woman left, the young woman still dug potatoes but she dug them differently. It was the way she held her shoulders and it was the light in her eyes because she knew who she really was. She knew she was the daughter of the king.

Source: A story by Edwina Gateley
as told in Robert Wicks, Night Call
(Oxford University Press, 2018) pages xxvi-xxvii

CONSIDER THIS

Do you know who you really are?

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?”  ―Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of “A Course in Miracles”

GOD IS IN THE DAILY ORDINARY

There once was a king whose greatest desire was to gain absolute power over every square inch of his kingdom. He had succeeded in removing all obstacles to his complete control except one: the people still put their ancient God above the king. The king summoned his three wisest advisors to find a way to put an end to such worship. “Where,” asked the king, “where might the people’s God be hidden and so be made to vanish from their lives and cease to challenge my rule?”

The first advisor suggested hiding the God at the summit of the highest mountain. “No,” said the king: “The people would abandon their homes and climb the highest mountain to search for their God.”

The second advisor proposed hiding the people’s God at the bottom of the sea. But the king rejected the idea as well: “The people would probe the ocean’s depth to find their God,” he said.

Finally, the third wisest advisor, a wrinkled and bent old man, spoke his advice in a hoarse whisper. “O mighty king,” he said, “hide the people’s God somewhere in their everyday lives. They will never find it!”

CONSIDER THIS

“God often comes to us disguised as our lives.” –Paul d’Arcy

“Suppose that a proof for God came in the mail. What would it look like? It would be a book containing all the stories of your life.” –Lawrence Kushner

“All happenings, great and small, are parables whereby God speaks.  The art of life is to get the message.” –Malcolm Muggeridge

“Wherever you find husband and wife, that’s where you find God;  wherever children and petty cares and cooking and arguments and reconciliation are, that is where God is too.”  –Nikos Kazantzakis, The Last Temptation of Christ

ON THE NINTH TRIP AROUND

A very overweight man decided that it was time to shed a few pounds. He visited a nutritionist, went on a new diet and took it seriously. He even changed his usual driving route to the office in order to avoid his favorite bakery.

One morning, however, he arrived at the office carrying a large, sugar-coated coffee cake. His office mates roundly chided him, but he only smiled, shrugged his shoulders and said, “What could I do? This is a very special cake. This morning, out of my forced habit, I accidentally drove by my favorite bakery. There in the window were trays of the most delicious goodies. I felt that it was no accident that I happened to pass by, so I prayed, ‘Creator God, if you really want me to have one of these delicious coffee cakes, let me find a parking place in front of the bakery.’

Sure enough, on the ninth trip around the block, there it was!

Source: Unknown

CONSIDER THIS

I saw a Lenten poster recently.  It read, “Lead me not to temptation, but just show me where it is.”

“The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself.” –Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray.

“I can resist everything but temptation.” –Oscar Wilde

MAYBE

A wise man won an expensive car in a lottery.

His family and friends were very happy for him and came to celebrate. ‘Isn’t it great!’ they said. ‘You are so lucky.’ The man smiled and said ‘Maybe.’

For a few weeks he enjoyed driving the car. Then one day a drunken driver crashed into his new car at an intersection and he ended up in the hospital, with multiple injuries. His family and friends came to see him and said, ‘That was really unfortunate.’ Again the man smiled and said, ‘Maybe.’

While he was still in the hospital, one night there was a landslide and his house fell into the sea. Again his friends came the next day and said, ‘Weren’t you lucky to have been here in the hospital.’ Again he said, ‘Maybe.’

Eckhart Tolle,  A New Earth, 197

CONSIDER THIS

Don’t be so quick to judge. Better yet, try not to judge at all. Don’t be so quick to place a label of “good” or “bad” on the things that happen in your life. After all, you don’t know what will happen next. The wise person knows this, and the response of “maybe” reflects the refusal to judge.