merciful like the father

The Jubilee Year of Mercy began in late 2015 and continues through late 2016.  Around the world, various sites have been declared Pilgrimage Sites and the faithful may obtain indulgences by visiting there and fulfilling certain conditions.  Without getting into all kinds of nitty gritty theology, if you want to know more, you can look up Fr. Champagne's "Mercy Minutes" on Facebook's Fete Dieu du Teche page or use Google.  I was kind of surprised to find out several years ago that indulgences are still around - after all the drama their abuse caused in the Middle Ages  -  but they are.

Entering through the Holy Doors can symbolize entering into Christ.  So, inspired by a friend who undertaken a similar local pilgrimage earlier this summer, I asked a group of Boy Scout mom friends if they would join me.  Our boys have grown up and gone down different paths, but we still enjoy each other's company.  One was busy, but the other two agreed.

We began our day at our local Cathedral.  As we arrived, we noticed other cars in the parking lot, and realized that today was the day that our diocese was ordaining 3 new priests.  People had already started to gather.  We located the stamp and ink pad to stamp the back of our booklet and then slipped into a pew near the back to pray.

Having received Your Mercy and forgiveness, we seek to pray for Your Mercy for others.  We lit our brothers and sisters up to You to be blessed and forgiven.  We call upon your Sacred Heart to fill them with Your boundless compassion.  We ask you to listen to their prayers, to inspire their hearts, to comfort their fears.  Assure them of Your love as we remember them to You. 

As we were leaving, I encountered a former co-worker from many years ago.She was there for the ordination...she had graduated with one of the men being ordained.  I remember long ago - maybe 15 years or more - a priest asking for prayers for this particular seminarian, who had just been diagnosed with leukemia.  She told me that he had not only fought leukemia, but had also lost both of his parents and had a heart transplant due the side effects of chemo.  Now in his 40's, God had continued to call him into His merciful heart.  His story in this video:  

 

For those who have sinned against others by selfishness or greed - who have become blinded by self-interest and allowed others to pay the price of their selfishness. 

We continued on to our next stop - Our Lady of Mercy.  We parked in the shade and entered the dimly lit church.  We located the stamp in the back, stamped our booklets, and knelt down to pray. 

For those who have sinned against others by prejudice and discrimination - who cling to graven images rather than bow before the dignity of  others.

After a few minutes there, we headed off to a Shrine to the Sacred Heart.  It was a good distance out of the way, but worth the trip.  None of us had ever been there before.  Probably none of us even knew of its existence.  

The miles passed and the conversation flowed.  Google Maps led the way.  To the middle of nowhere, it seemed.  

We located the Shrine easily enough. We opened the car door and a million a swarm of mosquitoes invaded the car.  But they weren't too hungry and left easily enough later on.  Our first priority was restroom facilities, and [mercifully] this location had them.  

We wandered around the outside of the Shrine.  It was so peaceful, with the sounds of nature.  There were outdoor Stations of the Cross, a basketball goal with a ball sitting....waiting.  The Blessed Mother, too, seemed to be waiting, inviting those who were burdened to come, sit, and reflect, so that she could lead them to her Son and His mercy.  Maybe it would be a nice retreat venue. 

We entered another Holy Door, signed in, stamped our books and knelt to pray.  

For those who have sinned against You, Lord by disrespecting Your creation: who regard Your precious gift as something to be exploited or destroyed.

The Shrine was built in the early 1980's.  It was the result of a dream that the priest assigned to the nearby church had while on retreat.  So many things fell into place for him to literally make the dream come true.  

The statue of the Sacred Heart had been offered to him by his physician.  The doctor's family had sold to the state a local hospital they had owned, and as such couldn't have a statue of the Sacred Heart in a publicly owned hospital.  The stained glass windows were offered to him by someone who had them in their shed.  They depicted Canadian martyrs and ironically the priest was Canadian.  The windows were over 200 years old.  

We lit candles at this location, but nearly all of the places we visited had candles. The lit candle symbolizes a way of extending prayers.  

We de-mosquitoe'd the car and continued our trek - back the way we had come to our next destination...an outdoor grotto to Our Lady of Lourdes.  

This location was a little harder to find.  We arrived at the church, but there was serious construction going on nearby.  Just as we were about to set out on foot to find the grotto, an angel of mercy in an SUV drove into the parking lot and pointed us towards the right direction.  She even showed us where to park and told us where to find the stamp for our booklets.  

Built by a husband in memory of his wife who had passed away from ALS in 2003, the brochure noted that they had faithfully prayed the Rosary every night and had received "innumerable graces". God's mercy.  The path had a marker for each of the 20 decades of the Rosary. 

We noted that it might be a quiet place to return to for prayer.  Maybe when it is cooler.  Note to self: October is the month of the Rosary, and it is cooler then.  

Soybean ? fields nearby.  It was quiet and peaceful.  We returned to the church parking lot since the stamp for the booklets was located inside the church. 

We prayed for a bit in the quiet coolness.  Maybe we gave thanks for God's merciful love in our lives and the lives of those close to us or maybe we prayed for good health or asked him to draw close to Him those who are wandering or any number of other things. 

For those who have sinned against You, Lord by offering the lives of others:  who see the human life as useless or expendable.  

We were starting to feel hungry, so we headed on towards our predetermined lunch destination. 

It was a fairly leisurely, delicious meal.  I'm pretty sure there wasn't a morsel of food left on any of our plates.  We split a slice of salted caramel cheesecake three ways.  Pure awesomeness!  Maybe we were merciful to our server when we left a tip.  

There had been a downpour while we ate lunch, and we stepped back out into the steamy summer day and headed for our next stop.  Another Our Lady of Mercy.  

We parked and entered through the doors.  We stamped our books, surveyed our surroundings and knelt to pray.  Maybe we said a prayer for those in our families who have passed away or for those in the world without enough to eat or for those who are struggling with their vocations in life.  

For those who have sinned against themselves by surrendering their truest identity:  who surrender their authentic self as Your child to the lure of addictions or the expectations of the world.

There is a Vietnamese community in this area.  Their heritage was recognized in one of the stained glass windows.  

There was also an icon of St. Maximilian Kolbe that was unlike anything I'd seen before.  

We journeyed on through sugarcane fields and beautiful oak trees to the oldest church parish in our area.  

They celebrated 250 years last year.  The current church building was built in 1836.    

It was after 3:00 and the 4:00 Mass crowd was starting to assemble.  We parked across the street and approached.  

We followed an older couple who were both walking with canes.  They, too, were on a pilgrimage. They had started at a church much further south and were making their second stop of the day.  An usher held the door open for us and welcomed us.  

We entered, stamped our books and looked around a bit.  There were quite a few things that caught our attention.  The pews still have doors on the ends, as they did in colonial days.  

There was a grotto on one side.  It was constructed by a freed slave in the late 1870's. The Stations of the Cross were massive and came from France in 1904. 

We settled into a pew for a bit and prayed as people arrived for Mass.  

For those who have sinned against themselves by tuning from freedom:  who choose to accept the bondages of sin, resentment, despair and rage by refusing Your invitation to Mercy. 

There was one more stop that we hoped to make on our journey and the hour was getting late.  We headed out.  Rain threatened.

We arrived at our final destination with 10 minutes to spare, but found that it had closed early due to the threatening weather.  A little disappointed, maybe, but it is local to us, so we can go another day.  All in all, a peaceful, relaxing day with a good mix of conversation and friendship, quiet and prayer. Time to be grateful for God's great mercy towards us and contemplate ways that we might be merciful like the Father.   

Merciful Father, You leave the ninety-nine in desperate search of the one.  You place the lost on Your own shoulders to secret away to greener pastures.  You kill the fatted calf to rejoice with the found. There is no limit to Your Mercy.  Your embrace leaves us breathless and forgiven.  Teach us to be instruments of Your Mercy in this Jubilee Year of Mercy.  

From Prayer of Pilgrims of Mercy

Diocese of Lafayette  

ice cream on thursdays

I have a friend, a former co-worker, who is older than my mom, who is having some serious health issues, having been diagnosed with  some chronic problems.  She has been asking for months for me to take her to "Charlene's Grave".  Charlene Richard was a little Cajun Girl who lived and died over 50 years ago in a rural community about 45 minutes from us.  She died at age 12 after a short battle with leukemia, and gradually she has developed a reputation as the "L'il Cajun Saint".

So, with school about to start, and time about to become very short, when she suggested that we go "next  week", I googled.  The cemetery where Charlene is buried is adjacent to the church.  The parish has Mass at 6:00 pm on Thursdays, so I told her we would go then.  I figured if we were going to make a road trip of it, we might as well do more than sit in a hot cemetery.  This is Louisiana, and it was July.

We arrived in time for Mass.  I knew that since it was a small, rural community, we would obviously stick out at Mass, but I had hoped to blend in at least a little.  Well, so much for that idea. Including the priest, the musician, and the altar server, there were 7 of us at Mass.  That's the number of completion and perfection in the Bible, though.  Mass was absolutely gorgeous...the musician played and sang her heart out.  The homily felt like it was written just for us (and matched the picture of Abraham and Isaac in the sanctuary).

After Mass, we ventured out to the cemetery.  Charlene's grave is easy to spot, but someone else was praying there, so we meandered around the cemetery for a bit, before stopping to visit with Charlene. Even though it was after 6 in the evening, it was still quite hot, but  the experience was so peaceful. We were alone, and except for nature, there were no sounds.  No vehicles passing on the highway.....just peace.  We paused long enough to write down our petitions and place them in the box on her grave.  We knelt and prayed. Tears may or may not have been shed.

I know that some have reservations about the whole business of asking saints to pray for us, but I believe that if we can ask other broken people in this broken world to pray for us, then surely we should be able to request assistance of someone whom we believe has direct access to the Good Lord.

We made our way back home, - a little more at peace, and a little more hopeful,  but not before stopping at McDonald's for an ice cream sundae.

Fast forwarding to the next Thursday.  It was hotter than hot, but my son and two of his Boy Scout buddies were to meet in a local park for one of the other parents to take their pictures, in anticipation of upcoming Eagle Scout Ceremony.  

A couple of the grandkids were visiting, so I had brought them with me, thinking they would enjoy the park as something different.  They fed the ducks....

...and played on the playground.  But they were tired, and it was hot, and they mostly just wanted to get to their other grandma's house.  

When the photo shoot was done, the boys decided to go eat ice cream (it is summer and it is hot), and after letting the girls play for a little longer, I took them to meet up with their other grandmother. We saw one police unit shortly after leaving the park.  We were nearly broadsided by another that was speeding through a red light.  After I dropped the girls off, I met up with the boys and the photographer dad at the ice cream shop, and we sat for an hour or more, talking and watching as law enforcement vehicles - marked and unmarked - sped by at odd intervals. The 3 boys have known each other since second grade, and all of them are starting college in the fall, and that occupied much of the conversation.  "My mom says there's been a shooting at the Grand," one of them said quietly, reading the text from his phone.  So in the age of instant information, we all turned to our phones...

Yep, sure enough.  But not much information available. Maybe some domestic issue, we assumed.  We visited a while longer before going our separate ways. 

Once we got home, we saw our  hometown on national news. When all the dust settled, three people were dead - people connected only by the fact that they had gone to see Trainwreck on a hot, July night.  The deceased included the shooter - someone from out of state who was "just not right" and two beautiful young ladies, Jillian and Mayci.  Several others were hospitalized.  

But here, we still pray.  Here, we come together to emerge even stronger. Here, we have joy, and nobody from out of town is going to steal our joy on a hot Thursday night.  

creating a space

Often in the mornings, I stick around after Mass.  There is really no point in going back home (and leaving again in 5 minutes), and I don't want to be too early for work.  So I soak in 15 or 20 or 25 minutes of quiet time and life is good.  The priest finishes up what he needs to do to get ready for the next Mass, and then he turns off the lights - except for the one where I hang out - locks the doors, and leaves me in peace.

Sometimes I drift over the alcove where the Blessed Mother's statue is.  We talk about mom things or husbands.  There are candles in her alcove, and it bothers me when there are some that are burnt out, so I will take those out and replace them with fresh ones and then all seems right in the world.  Occasionally, I come across one which has started to burn and then fizzled.  I will indulge my inner pyro and relight it...sometimes it takes a little bit of persistence, but I usually get it.  Prayers go along with those burning candles, so I figure maybe those prayers needed to be stretched out for a while longer and I'll add my prayers for whatever intention they were lit for.

A couple of weeks back, though, I came upon a candle that was a challenge.  It was filled to the very top with wax, and the wick didn't have a chance.  It reminded me of us sometimes.  We are so filled with all kinds of useful and good things - husbands, children, work, church activities - that we don't have a chance.  The candle had every thing it needed in order to be a fully-functioning candle (wax and a wick), it was just too full.  During this season of Advent - or what remains of it - give yourself some space, preferably a quiet space and see if that doesn't help your light shine more brightly in the darkness.

Related side note:  One of our church people had a stroke last year about this time and now lives in a nursing home nearby, but is still pretty functional.  At Bible study a few weeks ago, he had asked me if I'd give him a ride to the church gumbo which was last Sunday after the 10:30 Mass.  I'd agreed.  I called him on Saturday to see what time he wanted to be picked up (I'm thinking 10:30...11:00.)  "Well I want to go to 8:30 Mass," he said, "so you can pick me up at 7:30." I must have stuttered a little bit, and I'd already left a voicemail  suggesting 10:30 or 11, but I agreed to 7:30.  He called me back a few hours later and left a voicemail saying 11:00 would be fine, and after having had some time to think about it, I called him back and told him I would be there at 7:30.

He was waiting with his walker outside the facility the next morning when I got there (in the vicinity of 7:30).  He showed me how it folded up, I threw it in the back, and we were off.  There was only one other person in the church when we got there, and the air conditioning must have been set on "morgue", but in an otherwise non-stop, crazy weekend, it was wonderful to have that quiet space before Mass started, and I appreciated that God had arranged for me to have it.

today's faves

Inspiration for this post goes to Meg at Held By His Pierced Hands.  Her blog should really be in my sidebar....I just haven't updated recently.  I love, love, love her writing and thoughts.  In a recent post, she shared some of her favorites after someone had asked what her favorite parable was.

And since I seem to lack for ideas of my own lately, here goes.....

Favorite Parable:  The Prodigal Son (Luke 15:  11-32)  I think it is the story of most of us.  I also remember reading it during our First Confession Ceremony/Celebration/Liturgy all those years ago in third grade.

Favorite Image of Jesus:  The Good Shepherd  The fact that He leaves the 99 and goes off in search of the one lost sheep.  So, not only does He welcome us back when we come to our senses, but He goes out, searches for us, and carries us back.  See Matthew 18:12-13.

Favorite Bible Verse:  I'm pretty sure that can't be narrowed down to just one.  Tops on the list:  Be still and know that I am God.  (Psalm 46:10)  Draw close to God and He will draw close to you. (James 4:8)  Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.  (Mark 9:24).

Favorite Bible Study: Anything by Jeff Cavins and the folks at the Great Adventure.  I have studied James, the Bible Timeline, Revelations, Acts, and Matthew (twice).  Again it is difficult to pick a favorite, but James was short and had a great deal of practical application.

Favorite Liturgy:  This is an easy one....Holy Thursday...the Mass of the Lord's Supper.  It is beautiful.   It begins with an open, empty Tabernacle.  Even without the customary washing of the feet - an option that our pastor chooses not to exercise - there is so much symbolism and richness.  It is a Mass that doesn't end...at least not right then.  It concludes with Adoration, at the end of which the priest removes the Blessed Sacrament from the Tabernacle, leaving it empty as it was at the beginning of Mass.   A bonus on Holy Thursday is the Chrism Mass, which is held early in the day at the Cathedral.  Simply beautiful.

Favorite Prayer:  This would have to be the Prayer of St. Francis...Lord make me an instrument of your peace.  Where there is hatred..... I don't know why it's my favorite.  I'm pretty sure I don't know it by heart in its entirety,  nor do I pray it regularly.  Maybe it's the structure, the poetic nature, or just the simplicity, and the image of what we should all be.

Favorite Sacrament:  Of course, the Eucharist is the hands down (or hands-out) winner.  What is not to love?  Our God making Himself present to us - condescending to us - to be consumed in order that He can consume us.  But a really close second would have to be Reconciliation/Confession/Penance.  It is that one-on-one with Jesus.  That combination of nervousness and anticipation.  The grace, the encouragement, the warmth, the fresh start.  It is so worth it.  Every single time.


Favorite Penance:  I have had many that are thought-provoking and/or helpful, and my current priest never assigns the "say 3 Hail Marys" variety.  My favorite, though, "Go and bask in the silence and let Jesus speak to you."

Favorite Catholic Musician:  That would be Matt Maher.  Love, love, love.  And my favorite of his songs, "Deliver Me."  Loosely based on the Litany of Humility.

Favorite Catholic Devotionals:  This awesome series.  There is something for each day of the year that  matches up with the Scripture readings for the day.  Things that make you think, but presented so that normal people can understand.  In Conversation With God.  I got most of my copies from eBay.

Favorite "Catholic" thing to do:  Adoration.  This is the best thing ever.  Whether the Blessed Sacrament is exposed in a monstrance or simply present in the Tabernacle of whatever random Catholic Church you find yourself at.  What do you do when you go?  You can just sit in the Presence.  You can kneel.  You can kneel then sit.  You can pray prayers you know.  You can just sit and gaze.  You can tell God everything that is on your mind.  You can sit and listen to God whisper in your ear.  You can read.  You can write (one of my favorite things to do).  You can ask for forgiveness.  You can ask for wisdom.  You can ask for help.  You can surrender. You can praise Him.  You can thank Him.  You can do all of the above.  It is amazing the answers that come.  The peace that comes.  Amazing.

Favorite Lenten Practice:  The best Lenten "penance" ever was daily Mass.  I started part way through Lent one year, and committed to 3 days a week (because our parish had Mass at 6:30 am 3 days a week and I could go and make it to work at the required 7:05).  This was absolutely the best thing ever.  I was hooked long before Lent was over and felt like someone had been keeping this little treasure a secret.  It's not a penance.  It's a gift.  And it's certainly not just for Lent.

And that, boys and girls, are my favorites for now.  I'm sure there are more that I could add....and maybe I will....