Great is God’s mercy!

German movie The Lives of Others (dvd only) won the 2007 Oscars for Best Foreign Language Film. It hearkens back to 1986 and the Stasi, East Germany’s state police. Famous playwright Georg Dreyman, a dedicated communist, become disillusioned with the system when his good friend is blacklisted from writing because of what he had said. Dreyman also happens to be involved with a famous beautiful actor who is desired by a top Party official. Dreyman’s apartment is bugged and Agent Wiesler, in charge of the case, soon discovers why Dreyman is under surveillance.  Wiesler listens to every conversation and writes a summary report for the Stasi. The more he listens, the more what he hears changes him.  Note of caution: the movie is typically European and has some explicit sexual scenes.

The second movie is 2003 The Snow Walker. Absolutely wonderful movie. It is truly a redemption story. An all Canadian cast, this movie is set in 1950s rural Canada with arrogant, WWII veteran Charlie Halliday as the protagonist. He is hard livin’ pilot who does not have any respect for the Natives he encounters. On one of his runs, he is begged to take a very ill Inuit woman with him so that she can receive needed medical care.  After her family pays him with very valuable ivory he agrees to take her with him. On their flight back his plane crashes. They are stuck in the middle of the tundra and since he had flown off of his flight plan, he knows no one will know where to search. It reminds of a Dostoevsky story actually, though the protagonist is no murderer. Kanaalaq reminds of Sonia, the Light who reminds this cocky arrogant man who he may have wanted to be a long time ago. Via her, he is humbled and knowing her changes him forever.  Note: This is a family friendly movie, though not for little ones.

In light of this weekend’s massacre, I was thinking that The Hunger Games is a book that is more relevant than ever. If you are not familiar with this book, you should be. The Hunger Games, while brutal, is in actuality a critique of a mindlessly violent society and the cost that violence renders. This book does more to show the constant child sacrifice to the altar of death that violence demands in a way that no other book in recent memory reveals. The Hunger Games critiques an overbearing and dictatorial government, the role of propaganda media has in continuing violence, and the herd mentality of people. Yet, the hero of The Hunger Games is a young girl of fourteen, Katniss, who becomes a revolutionary figure and decides to fight for her freedom against tyranny. The Trilogy consists of The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, and MockingJay. They are wonderfully, brilliantly, written. Everyone I know who has started the books, cannot put them down until they are finished.

While these books are considered “childrens books,” I would not allow anyone younger than high school to read them because of the terrible themes. I was told by a friend of mine, though, that her 10 year old son was encouraged by his teacher to read them! Evidently, teachers’ groups deem these books worthy for little ones. I do not agree. But parents should be aware so that they can defend the innocence of their children. It is especially ironic that our schools are pushing this when the very idea in this Trilogy is the critique of a culture of violence.

For my daughter and I, though, we have experienced that the Love of Christ that Saints had in life does NOT end with their earthly death. This past year and a half we have experienced directly the Love these Saints continue to share with the rest of the Body of Christ.

One evening, during prayer time, my daughter insisted to ask “St. Sarah” to pray for us.  I did not know of a St. Sarah, but my daughter insisted that St. Sarah really existed and that we needed to add her to our nightly Litany of Saints. I began to research and discovered that St. Sarah was a Desert Mother who was revered by the Desert Fathers. That is pretty much all we know.  I returned and asked my daughter why she knew about St. Sarah.  She told me in a matter of fact voice that St. Sarah had appeared to her in a dream and that my daughter experienced deep peace and happiness with her.  I was later told that the Desert Parents often appear to people who are in need of comfort.  Considering that my daughter had been through trauma and upheaval, the appearance of a Saint, whom we had never heard about, was comfort beyond doubt. It was God telling us that He loved us and had not forgotten about us.  Not only that, the Saints had our backs. They were praying for us!  Even now, writing about this just makes me cry.

During this last year and a half, it was not only St. Sarah who gave us comfort, but also the greatest Saint of all, Mary Our Mother. When I was in deep distress I would always be sent an image of me at her feet with her mantle over me. It happened often enough that I began to realize it was not “me” who was doing the imagining.  It was this experience of literally her mantle over me that I now understand the whole Scapular devotion. Prior, I never could comprehend it. I was always suspicious, but now I completely understand that the Scapular is a tiny scrap of Mary’s mantle to wear. And the need to have one and wear one has continued to grow within me.  It was Mary who I knew could completely comprehend what it was like to stand by and watch her child suffer unjustly and not be able to do anything.  As my daughter began her long road to heal from trauma, it was Mary who I begged would stand by in my daughter’s dreams so that she would not be so terrified. It was Mary who *I* needed as a Mother when I was not sure if I could say “yes” to the Tenet of Suffering that our Faith demands. I begged her not to give up on me even as I struggled through the pain of injustice and tried to understand a Loving God in the midst of pure evil.

Then there was the time I had to testify in court and I was terrified of the outcome–absolutely terrified. I had prayed and prayed and my friends and family had prayed, but still I was not at peace. Then, as I walked into court, all of a sudden I had a wonderful image of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, or The Three Young Men from Old Testament times. I visualized them in the fire and I knew, just knew it was going to be ok. Those brave men who willingly went into the fire and stood Testament to their Faith in the God. I knew they were with me and I was SO grateful to them. It was odd because I never really knew about them, but when I needed comfort, yet again, The Saints came to the rescue.

Lastly, St. Therese, my Little Flower. We did a novena to her requesting a miracle. She sent me 18 beautiful roses to let me know “yes.” And a miracle she did perform. There is no explanation how it happened, except a woman in Heaven who wanted to spend her Heaven doing good on earth. I will forever be grateful to this woman who rendered a miracle for my family.

I have no doubt there are other nameless saints who intercede for us every day. But I tell my daughter that when we are Saints–for that is our Call–we can spoil the Body of Christ like these Saints do for us now.  But first, we must learn how to spoil Jesus in His people on Earth.

I told her that even though I haven’t adopted, I can relate to her feeling that her child is on loan to her. I remember the first time my daughter received ashes on her forehead during Ash Wednesday services and it was a chilling reminder that she is not “mine.” She is in my care, but she is her own person who one day will return to God. My job is to love her to pieces and educate her. My friend’s story is a more obvious example of this heavy responsibility all parents share.

In the meantime, please say a prayer for all mothers who have had their children taken from them.

If Americans do anything really well, it is how to stay busy from the moment one gets up until sleep. The minutes in between in a typical day are literally filled with activities.  Most of my girlfriends are all stay at home moms and they complain about how busy it gets so that it feels like they don’t have a chance to breathe.  All of this busyness cannot be good for the soul.

About two months ago I signed up for a yoga class that I attend twice a week.  The class is 1 1/2 hours of pure chill out time. It is so difficult for me to take this time out of my incredibly busy life to learn how to relax. And yet I am so glad after the time ends that I took it to be good to myself . . . and to my soul.  Yoga has made me aware that even my prayer time is a hurried experience.  One cannot rush in yoga. Well, you can but you will injure yourself. It made me begin to wonder, what does rushing in prayer do? Maybe nothing? Can one really have a relationship with someone when it is continuously rushed? Can one really hear God when it is a “helloGodhowareyouIamworriedpleaseanswermyprayers?”

What can we do in our families to decrease the busy? Heck, even my single friends are so booked they don’t have time to breathe. What can we do in our individual lives to relax the pace of life?

I have a feeling that if more of us pray before we write and comment, the more kind the blogosphere will be.

Heb 12:5-7;11-13

Brothers and sisters,
You have forgotten the exhortation addressed to you as children:
“My son, do not disdain the discipline of the Lord
or lose heart when reproved by him;
for whom the Lord loves, he disciplines;
he scourges every son he acknowledges.”
Endure your trials as “discipline”;
God treats you as sons.
For what “son” is there whom his father does not discipline?
At the time,
all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain,
yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness
to those who are trained by it.

So strengthen your drooping hands and your weak knees.
Make straight paths for your feet,
that what is lame may not be disjointed but healed.

I so needed this because when you suffer you just cannot see past the pain at times. But St Paul had to remind the disciples of their own history, their own Scriptures because it is inevitable to wonder about God and his goodness when you experience the ugly and pain.  I absolutely love how it says at the end  (in my own translation), “Woman up! Shoulders back, head up!”

The cross teaches us that we are so vulnerable and weak, and dependent. Yet at the same time, just by living it and suffering through it there is a strength that occurs and it requires courage to handle it and not to become bitter, angry, jaded and cynical.

That is the choice we have: either we can resent the cross and became angry that we have to suffer or we can say “yes” to the cross and begin to be trained by it. Now, in my own experience I have tried both actually. At the beginning of my “discipline” I fought with everything that I had against it. I doubted whether I wanted to participate in a religion that places the Cross as the defining principle of its Faith. And the thing is, I resented it, but the pain didn’t go away just because I didn’t want it! No. The pain continued and I realized that I had a choice. I could fight it and become disillusioned and cynical or I could give in and start learning from what I have since dubbed “Sister Suffering.”  And the minute I gave in and said “yes,” a very strange thing began to occur. I began to experience “the peace which surpasses all understanding.” And I am beginning to understand how one can have inner peace even while living through a terrible situation.

I believe that the reason most of us have yearned for a path of “just violence” is for one reason only. We hate pain. Pain can come from being the innocent receiver of violence, or for me and most of my family members, the pain comes from watching an innocent suffer. Both types of pain are excruciating. The pain can so overwhelm that one finds that breathing, eating, sleeping, living a full life utterly impossible. Emotional and spiritual pain causes physical pain. I find that my body can barely move because of weeks of tight, clenched muscles.

I decided early on not to dull the pain with any medicine or alcohol because the member who suffered violence didn’t have that chance. If she couldn’t have it, neither could I. It was a choice of solidarity. But I was drowning. I was drowning in my hatred. Hatred for the person who caused such pain. My desire for vengeance I could taste. Vengeance and hatred have a flavor. It is a bitter, vomit, bile type flavor. It was in this state that I turned to Scripture for my relief, any relief. A promise of Justice is what I wanted. I yearned for the Divine Justice.

But night after night, I continued upon this passage and it clashed against my despair (Mt 5:43-48):

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’
But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you,
that you may be children of your heavenly Father, for he makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and the unjust.
For if you love those who love you, what recompense will you have? Do not the tax collectors do the same?
And if you greet your brothers only, what is unusual about that? Do not the pagans do the same?
So be perfect,  just as your heavenly Father is perfect.

My God. How on earth can I love a person who has hurt us so badly? I searched in vain for the exception clause; the clause that would give me a way out of this terrible edict. Must I? Do I have to? Jesus, it is NOT fair!
My Spiritual Director told me the only way to fight despair and hatred is through love. I had to pray to God that I could love the victimizer has HE loves the victimizer. I told him, “I can’t.” He said, “you are quite right. YOU can’t. But God CAN. Begin where you are at and pray that God gives you the desire to love this person who has caused so much pain to all of you.” So I obeyed him. And I did it. THE minute I started to pray in this manner, I felt a weight lift off of me. The visual I have is one of a demon literally being repulsed by God’s grace. He could no longer be ON me. He had to shift weight a bit as God’s grace began to work in my heart.

I am learning painfully, and slowly that God’s way is liberating. We are enslaving ourselves to our human passions when we yearn for OUR way over GOD’S way. True liberation is when we can suffer the vilest things and STILL love God and our fellow human beings. Love. It is not the path of the weak. It is painful. It hurts. It takes every ounce of strength and rigorous prayer life to attempt. When we choose to let go of OUR wants, OUR desires and say “God, I cannot do this. You have to do it in me because I am completely and utterly incapable” we begin to imitate the process Jesus experienced who “emptied Himself.”

I could have never understood this Truth without the violence interfering in our lives. Ironically, it is through the community of Violence that my family is being baptized into the Truth.

I don’t know about you, but when things are tight the temptation to decrease donations is always present.  Last week I was so tempted to not put that check in the church basket.  But the thought crossed my mind: “You cannot be more generous than God.”  My fear was that there wouldn’t be enough to cover our bills.  But going on faith in what we pray every single morning in the Divine Office, I decided to trust that God would indeed provide.

So yesterday when I went to my mail box I noticed an envelope that looked like there was money inside.  When opened it was a surprise $1,000 check, with the “we are so sorry we didn’t send this money to you earlier” note.  The money was for some service my husband had done awhile back.  We hadn’t realized there was money involved.  The job was done months ago and the check was indeed late.  But just in time according to God’s Divine Plan.

While I am quite aware most of our readers are male, I have no doubt that many are married to women and might be interested in ways to save money, especially in a tight economy.