Packing up a composition book for some writing, I found this from June of last year:
I set a fire this morning
A small fire down by the lake
Such stillness
Slight swells from an unseen boat
Grays and silvers too numerous to count
The fire spits sending sparks to ride the column of smoke
Straight up
No breeze
It is not often that I head to the prison in a really piss-poor mood. Just what the guys need, a cranky presider at the third Friday communion service. I had even entertained putting them on alert at the start of the service, especially those who are always yakking away along the side wall.
But as I stopped by my local parish to pick up consecrated hosts, the massive silence of the empty church began to take hold of me. Counting out the 12 hosts has always been a solemn exercise and was no less so today.
Stopping by the post office with the 15th of the month bills followed by getting the car partially filled up … used up the stub-end of a couple of gift cards … and then driving the hour and a half to the prison was all very therapeutic.
We had a wonderful communion service followed by a 45-minute discussion in response to the statement: List five things for which you are grateful. Each of the 16 offenders had a small piece of paper to list his items of gratitude, and each one shared his list with the whole group. Really quite moving.
My final visit at the prison today was to a man in the infirmary who is “gratitude personified.” He is a terminal case, can’t see well, but always has a smile and welcomes the Eucharist. He also shared with me five things for which he is grateful.
In any event, I left my mood somewhere along the highway on the way to the prison.
For those who missed Monday night’s Republican debate, here it is:
For those who missed the first Republican debate:
For those who will miss the next Republican debate:
So far, the two Mormons make sense. Everyone else plays to the audience and is missing something along the lines of competency.
Also, check the body language to see who has the confidence to move forward. Romney and Huntsman look at who is talking. Bachmann looks as though the guy who’s talking just ran over her dog, seething with no eye contact whatsoever.
If Obama goes belly up, the guy with the smirk, W redux, had better not be the one. Ye gods and little fishes, once was enough, and it will take generations to recover from that one without fueling the fire again.
Note: If you are really pleased with the Catholic Church as it is today, you may not want to read any further.
There was an unexpected comment from inside a prison cell during my visit on Wednesday of last week:
“The one religion I have no use for is Catholic.” He’s Muslim.
“Really?” I said
“Catholics are creepy! All that sexual abuse of kids.”
“You know, I’m Catholic.”
“You are?”
“But I’m a Christian first!”
Ever since that exchange (and we did continue talking), I have wondered what prompted me to say that. My not identifying with the institutional church is certainly part of it. Wondering what bishops, cardinals, and the pope bring to the party is another part.
The thing that keeps me in the Catholic faith is that there is nowhere else to go. Also, I need to remember the influence of the Sacraments and of our tradition upon who I have become … along with God’s grace.
I’m simply not big on the hierarchy and all the pomp and trappings that go with it. I still imagine Jesus roaming around the Vatican or any diocesan office wondering how all this came out of his demonstrating and talking about leading a humble and loving life.
Our local bishop provides ceremonial, administrative, and managerial support to the faith communities in the archdiocese. That is good and necessary. But I don’t look to him for guidance in matters of faith and morals. I look to the members of our faith community under the guidance of our pastors.
To me, the bishops in this country have nothing to say. Perhaps they will someday, but for now their voice lacks credibility and is usually out of step with those in the pews. The corporate insensitivity and cover-ups displayed toward the sexual abuse of our children can never be excused. Forgiven by some, but never excused.
I believe to be a good Catholic is to be a good Christian, to follow Jesus in his words and actions, to hear and keep the gospel message. Is that what we see and hear from the hierarchy? No. What we see and hear is exclusion, intolerance, arrogance, a group that is tone-deaf, a group that fails to listen to the faithful (at least those of us without money).
We see and hear from the hierarchy an asymmetrical view of the human experience, an undue focus on sexual issues rather than on loving relationships. Other things in their portfolio of issues include abortion, gays, maintaining 7 Sacraments for men and only 6 Sacraments for women. Gee, that last issue said that way smacks of theological ignorance, except we know it’s all about power anyway and theology has nothing to do with it.
The U.S. bishops’ bi-annual inserting of themselves into the political process is nonsense and, as we have seen, can cause much damage through encouraging voting for those who are insufficiently pro-live, voting for those care more for the unborn than for breathing citizens in need. I should say that they claim to care for the unborn.
Our bishops also encouraged voting for and electing an administration filled with fear and vengeance rather than hope and forgiveness. But unthinking conservatism doe spawn more unthinking conservatism, and election time is just around the corner once more. The archbishop before this one thought the war in Iraq was a “just” war. And so it goes.
I could go on, but a conversation at a cell door does bring up many, many things to reflect upon.
Funerals are never much fun, but the day after the mass and burial of a former coworker six years my junior finds me a little out of sorts.
I met him 42 years ago right after he graduated from college and started his career in the same plant where I was working. Saw him a lot then, but very little in the last few dozen years. Lost touch, really, for a whole host of reasons.
Nevertheless, those times when we were all in our 20s come rushing back very, very quickly as one more tangible connection to the present is severed by death.
But the memories are there and are to be savored.
In a dim light... 