On December 23rd, I happened upon The Nativity on CBC television. Instantly, I was skeptical – another nativity production – why? Well I stuck with it and was happy I did.
I have to admit, I have always found the story of the virgin birth a difficult one to grasp. Of course our faith is built on so many truths we accept without understanding, but what I have always found difficult is how accepting Mary and Joseph were of their dreams. Can you imagine – “I had this crazy dream that I am to have a child and he will be the son of God.” “Really?!? Cool!” Would these revelations fly today? I can’t see it happening. We are so filled with mistrust and doubt.
What I loved about The Nativity; that had me spellbound within minutes, was the doubt and uncertainty of Mary and most especially Joseph, even after the angel had come and explained these things. This depiction of them helped me to relate to them better.
In this film, Mary goes to visit her pregnant cousin Elizabeth with disbelief and concern in equal measure. Elizabeth helps her to better understand the words of the archangel. When she returns home, visibly pregnant herself, the townspeople are horrified, they ridicule her. Joseph is shocked, hurt and bitter. Try explaining to a guy who is hurling furniture in anger – ‘It’s ok, this is the son of God.’ He wasn’t buying it.
In this movie, Joseph plans to leave; heading to Bethlehem for the census and Mary’s father begs him to take Mary with him, for her own protection. “She cannot stay here,” he tells Joseph, “she will be stoned to death.”
Grudgingly, Joseph takes her with him. But his anger does not even let him accept the words of the angel when he appears to sort things out for him. Finally, Jesus is born. Whose heart does not melt at the sight of a new born baby? And when the shepherd arrives, being told of this birth by…yes, an angel; and a short while later the wise men appear on the scene, Joseph is in awe of this child, and what all this attention means. He thinks back to what the angel told him…he believes.
Now, having been given the barest of facts related to Jesus’ birth, one can conjure up many interpretations of how the events unfolded. I like this particular portrayal, written by Tony Jordan for the BBC, because it portrays Mary and Joseph in ways I can truly understand – confused, frightened, questioning. Of course God chose them to be the earthly parents of Jesus because of their purity of heart, their devotion, their faith and willingness to do God’s will. But this contemporary slant on the nativity of Jesus helps me to understand how they may have reached acceptance. It does not diminish their stature in my eyes; rather their strength fills me with awe
Author: admin
Finally putting myself out there (coming out of the closet, so to speak) as a writer. For many years I have been writing reflections for our Catholic church bulletin and I've decided to share them beyond our little community.
Advent is a time of expectant anticipation. But, oh, we are an impatient age. Even those of us who are older, we are no longer content to wait for anything. So what do we do with Advent? Has it lost its significance in our lives? We’re supposed to fill this time of waiting with prayer and reflection…but, if you’re like me, it’s filled with preparations for Christmas – and not so much for the blessed nativity, but in shopping, baking and the writing of Christmas cards. How did this happen…and why? It seems everything that humankind gets involved in becomes inflated and out of control. Is it too late to turn this around? Can we just decide to stop the madness and dole out lots of love and rejoice in the nativity of the Lord and call that Christmas?
Yes, we can…we don’t though, because there are children and grandchildren to consider. But are we underestimating our offspring with that kind of thinking? This past summer, both of our sons, along with their spouses, bought new homes. They are busy with renovations and improvements and both families came to the conclusion that, since we would all be together at Christmas, wasn’t that gift enough? Let’s get gifts for the children and let’s have our gathering together be gift for the rest of us.
I was actually the only one to protest – But can’t I knit things?
Oh yes, my daughters-in-law eagerly replied, but let’s not spend money on extravagant gifts. That warmed my heart and gave me hope!
Let’s take time this Advent season, to consider what Christmas really means to us. Let’s stop the madness where we can and fill these days with a bit of peace and joyful anticipation and preparation for the coming of our Lord!
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Can You Handle It?
Recently, I was called upon to look after my precious grandchildren…from Saturday morning, up to and including getting them to school (on time) Monday morning – solo. Yikes! It was not only the children I was caring for, but the two dogs and two cats too. My husband was conveniently and otherwise occupied, and my son and daughter-in-law were in need of a well-deserved get-away.
Driving to Orillia, I already felt exhausted – the thought of being the sole care-giver for three busy children 8 ½, 7 and 5 ½, actually scared me to death. The last time I was called to do this, my husband and I worked together as a tag-team, when one began to falter, the other jumped in with renewed energy and enthusiasm. It seemed an impossible task for one aging grandma to handle on her own.
Do you ever feel God calling you to a task that is far beyond your capabilities? Why would God do such a thing? Isn’t it rather, that we feel it is beyond us, we’re sure it’s more than we can handle…and we know ourselves better than God does? I don’t know about you, but that kind of thinking trips me up every time. A lack of trust in God keeps us from accomplishing so many worthwhile endeavours. In our minds, we’ve already decided we can’t accomplish a particular task, we write off God’s opinion, shaking our heads sadly and walking away from what he’s calling us to do. What a waste of time, worry and mental energy. Here’s a tip: you can handle it. You would not be called to it otherwise.
My weekend with the grandkids was a blast. Afternoons at the park, Just Dance (a video game) kept us all hopping around the living room till bedtime one night, a nerf-darts war took us to bedtime the second night. We made popcorn, told stories, read stories and giggled a lot. “This will be our little secret,” Rowan said, when I let them have a bit more Halloween candy than was normally allowed.
If my weekend with the grandkids taught me anything, it’s that I worry too much and I should pay more attention to each call from God. We must move beyond our fears. The energy will come, the right words will be on our tongues.
Advent approaches. Take time to listen…what is God calling you to do? You can handle it
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Mercy – Gotten and Given
In my file, labelled My Writing, I found a piece with this title – Mercy – Gotten and Given. I had no recollection of writing the piece, but I looked forward to refreshing my memory of it. Turns out there was not another word written…just the title – a disappointing discovery, but, I took it as a sign that it was time to follow the title up with some thoughts. And, as we near the end of this Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy, I thought it an appropriate time to give it a go.
This Sunday, and last, the Gospels speak of tax collectors – the lowest of the low, in the eyes of the general public, in Jesus’ time. And yet, the tax collector in last Sunday’s Gospel prayed to God in a way that won him favour over that of the Pharisee. This week, another tax collector, Zacchaeus, is at the center of a story being told for our benefit. The first gospel teaching us to pray in a way that is pleasing to God; the second teaching us how to seek out Jesus, pushing past our own limitations and, not only meeting him, but bringing him into our homes.
God’s mercy is such that we don’t even have to meet him half way. We don’t have to do much of anything really, to experience God’s tender mercy, but when we acknowledge our sinfulness; when we make that extra effort to seek God, I believe we increase those spiritual benefits bestowed upon us. And, once received, we must pass them on to others, because, as St. Francis says, it is in giving that we truly receive. So, my take on – Be merciful as the Father is merciful – Luke 6.36 – is simply Mercy – once it’s gotten it must then be given. Pass it on!
When later asked if he was correct in hearing that the wind was going to shift to the South East…I really couldn’t say. I mean, by the time I’ve listened to 20 minutes of the French weather forecast, followed, in English, by every nuance in temperature and humidity level from North Bay to Timbuctoo, my attention span is gone. When the actual marine forecast comes on, I’m thinking about a snack, and a reasonable time for happy hour to begin. So no, I couldn’t say if he was correct in his hearing. Regardless – when the gale winds blew from the North, we were totally unprepared.
We’ve all said it before – it was the longest day of my life. I’ve said it before, but nothing I’ve endured in the past could compare to being tossed, thrown, beaten and bruised from noon to mid-afternoon, only to hear, on the updated forecast – WARNING – Gale force North winds on Georgian Bay…diminishing around midnight. MIDNIGHT?!?! There was nothing to do but watch and wait. Well, Leon was plenty busy, checking coordinates, checking lines, replacing lines, checking coordinates, trying to prevent the anchor and chain from ripping the bow off the boat. I am the one who watched and waited. Watched while Leon went to the bow numerous times, life-jacketed and tethered; watched as the dingy lines (2) snapped and the dingy rode the waves happily to shore; watched the guy on the beach nicely carry our dinghy up out of the surf; watch the bow pulpit float by me, while I watched the cops come down to the beach (three times in all), stare at our boat, talk to the cottagers and then leave, not knowing what to do to help us. It was, indeed, the longest day of my life.
They say you meet the nicest people boating, but in this case, the nicest people were the cottagers in Big Sand Bay, who all came out to greet me when I swam to shore next morning; the guy who canoed out to Anerca to get Leon and Scout; his wife and sister-in-law who made us breakfast; his brother who later helped Leon to jury-rig the tiller (yes that got broken too)…despite their kindnesses – I wanted to go home!
That brings me to my purpose in writing this piece…my husband is looking for a sailing partner – strictly a sailing partner, you understand. One who remains calm under pressure and can really pay attention to marine weather forecasts!
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The Journey…or the Destination
It’s boating season and on some of our lengthy sailing passages, my mind begins to wander and ponder. (I apologize in advance for all the parallels I’m about to use in this piece – sailing vs. life.) We were once power boaters, getting to our destination with speed and efficiency. When we switched to sailing, our power boating friends were shocked and horrified. You’d think we had changed religions, ok, not so much religions, but philosophies. With power boaters, it’s all about the destination. It has to be. You can do nothing, not even carry on a normal conversation until you get where you’re going. When we made the switch, and it suddenly took us an entire day to travel what had previously taken a fraction of the time, we embraced the sailors’ code – It’s not the destination, but the journey that counts. Ah, how many times did we repeat those words to each other that first year, with gritted teeth?
This expression came to mind as my husband and I neared the end of a long day’s journey, recently.
‘Exhilarating,’ said the captain.
‘Nerve racking,’ said his first mate.
Perspective is everything, in sailing and in life. I don’t mind a bit of wind, but could I have calm seas, please, and lots of sunshine? No, sorry…rarely the case. So our crossing from Thornbury to Hope Island gave us tiny patches of blue sky and brief glimpses of sun, with longer stretches of dark, angry looking clouds and one metre seas. It was the first good sail my husband had had all summer and he enjoyed it immensely. I on the other hand, prone to motion sickness and an aversion to too much heeling in the wind – did not have as much fun. Once through the gap at Christian Island, and motoring into the wind toward Hope, the seas calmed down, my nerves calmed down and I thought about destination and journey again. I couldn’t help but compare the expression to life and not just life, but to our spiritual journey. How we approach life, how we live our faith, will ultimately decide our destination. And so, in my opinion, the journey and the destination are of equal importance.
My husband’s approach – to life and faith – is a constant reminder to me that I lack trust – in his sailing abilities…perhaps, but also in God’s plan for me. Our sailing adventures – an equal measure of anxiety over wind, waves and weather, and tranquil anchorages with lots of time for reading and reflection, help me to put things in perspective…put my life, my spiritual life in order.
When I look at my husband’s take on things, and then my own, I can’t help but see that I’m too cautious, afraid to take chances. Does that spill over into my spiritual life? Yes, I believe that it does…afraid to give, afraid to love, afraid to trust in God’s plan and follow it.
The good new is, it’s never too late to change direction, when we find ourselves drifting off the course God has set for us – sometimes it takes a life time. But, as long as we continue learning, seeking and growing, our journey will be fruitful…and the destination blessed.
Summer is here! The earth is fully renewed! So why aren’t I? “Come, Holy Spirit,” we sing, “renew the face of the earth.” Doesn’t that include me – all of us? I run, I bike ride with my husband, we sail on weekends…and maybe that’s the problem right there – too busy; no time to sit and think; no time to smell the roses; no time to rest. Summer comes and we try to squeeze as many activities into it as we possibly can. That’s understandable, of course, with six to seven months of winter behind us, we want to be outside, we want to celebrate warmth and greenery, water and light.
Is it my age then? Is that why I’m so tired? Is it my worries; are they what are exhausting me? Bingo! So, instead of renewing the face of the earth, renew my faith and trust. I don’t know about you, but I need to trust that God will handle those things I cannot change…I need to trust that those things I want changed are in his hands and he will ‘handle’ them according to his will. Clearly, I’m not always in sync with God. In my prayers I plead, bargain, cajole. Clearly I’m not paying attention when, in praying the Our Father I say, ‘thy kingdom come, thy will be done.’ There are times when I deliberately ignore that phrase, with a ‘yes but’ attitude. You know – ‘yes Lord, but I don’t think you quite understand where I’m coming from…let me just explain.’ Give it up. He understands our thoughts better than we can attempt to articulate them.
The other morning when I was out running, the sun was just coming up over the trees, birds were singing, insects were buzzing and I felt like I could run for miles and miles. I truly felt renewed. Everywhere I looked I was treated to his beautiful creation – nothing man-made, but for the hay bails in the fields, the barns and fences.
So, when we find ourselves drained of energy, bereft of spirit, we need to sit in the quiet of a church and talk to God. I picture him rolling his eyes and thinking to himself – you again! But I know that really he wraps his arms around us because we soon feel his love envelop us, calming our concerns. If the church is not easily accessible, find a place to sit and meditate on God’s caring nature, preferably in a place that’s filled with his beauty. Sit in a garden, a park, smell the flowers, listen to the birds…just let go and let God do the rest. Trust me, renewal will come.
I’ve never been one to fall into the lament, ‘why do bad things happen to good people?’ It’s a pointless exercise and I’ve never wasted the time. There are just things we must accept. My oldest sister was born a ‘blue baby.’ She had congenital heart disease along with many developmental problems. She was not supposed to live beyond her childhood, but was 35 when she died. Even then I felt cheated, losing her when we did. My husband never met her which was so unfortunate, because to know Judy was to have your life changed forever. My parents never questioned why this happened to them; why their poor innocent child was dealt such a heavy hand. They accepted God’s will and made the best life they could for their special daughter – an impressive example for the rest of their children. My mother died of cancer 20 years ago. We were blessed to have her into her 74th year. Over the course of my life time, she suffered through many bouts of the disease – always with grace, dignity and a very strong faith. We learned a lot from mother, through her illness. When one of my sisters lost her husband in a tragic motorcycle accident several years ago, we were all devastated, heartbroken and my sister was consumed with grief. Her daughters and sons-in-law were a tremendous help to her, but her faith gave her the strength to move forward. Again, a powerful example for the rest of us. Now our baby sister must call upon that strength, dignity and most importantly, that faith that we have witnessed in our family over and over again. Cancer touches all of our lives at some time or other. It has hit our family once again. Bad things happen to good people. With every fiber of my being I resist anger – it’s exhausting and serves no purpose. God did not cause this and we need him on our side more than ever. Above my desk in the office are the words, Faith – Hope – Love. A friend came in the other day and asked which one I was feeling most at that moment. I said, “All three, right now I need all three.” Don’t we all? We all experience hardship, tragedy and loss. But to lay blame in those situations where clearly no one is at fault is an unhealthy practice. That’s when meditation on the Serenity Prayer can be helpful. God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. And though it is perhaps counter-productive to the prayer itself, I am compelled to add – and the strength to fight for one’s Life!
It never hurts to go over some aspects of our lives that periodically need review. Patience, is one of those areas in which, along the twists and turns of life’s journey, I am forever being tested. We’ve been a household without a dog for about three years now. My oldest sister once explained to me, ‘Freedom is when the kids have left home and the dog dies.’ Our boys were in their teens when she revealed this to me, and the dog was quite young…I had no concept of what she was talking about. Now, 17 years later, kid-free for over a decade and dog-free for three years – ah yes, freedom! Then – wait a minute, what? My husband is talking about getting a dog?!?
‘Let’s just go look at these puppies I saw advertised,’ says he. ‘Dirty pool,’ says I. The person who can say no to a tiny, innocent, adorable puppy has no heart! So we are now owners of a 10 week old English Springer Spaniel and that’s where the patience comes in – with the puppy…and with my husband.
I could explode with ‘I told you so,’ or, ‘This was not my idea,’ at least a dozen times a day. With patience, however, I manage to hold my tongue and only burst out with either of those lines a mere few times a week.
And I’m discovering that I don’t need to nag about watching the puppy every single minute she’s in my husband’s care, because she taught him that lesson all by herself, the time she was taking a nap, so he thought he could take a nap…and woke up to discover that he really must watch her every second she’s in his care – or kennel her.
My husband is not a morning person. I am. Does that mean it is my job to look after this pup in the morning, in lieu of my run – which keeps me sane? A discussion about this (preferably the night before as opposed to 6:45 am, when I’m wanting to bound out the door) is necessary – with calm explanation of expectations, not angry accusing words spoken to a foggy headed and groggy spouse who is not-a-morning-person. (And I thought life would get dull when the children left home!)
So yes, this area in my life needs more than the occasional review, clearly, constant daily attention to it is required. Perhaps we all have areas in our lives where fine-tuning is needed? Just remember, God has a sense of humour, so don’t lose yours, because everything is tolerable, if you can make your spouse laugh.
Driving along the highway in my little yellow bug, I find I’m always pushing the limit – the speed limit, that is. If it’s 50 km/h, I bump it up to 60. If it’s 60 km/h, I take it to 70. 80, to me, means keep it under 100. Driving along recently, in my meditative state, I thought about how we push the limit in so many ways. The quick check-out at the grocery store – ‘no more than 12 items’ – we sneak through with 15…or more. ‘No trespassing!’ ‘Do not walk on the grass!’ If we’re not actually breaking, we’re at least bending the rules more often than not. Even in the ways we pray and talk to God – we push.
In prayer, it seems, we are always bargaining, but God must be used to that. Look at the way God and Abraham haggled over Sodom. Being fed up with the sinfulness of the place, God planned to destroy it. Abraham dared to argue with the Lord – “But what if there are 50 just people to be found there? Would you wipe them away too, along with the wicked?”
“Well, no,” says God, “for the sake of the fifty, I would not destroy the city.” Abraham wears God down with his haggling and God, walking away (and throwing up his hands, no doubt) agrees to spare Sodom if he finds 10 just people living there. I have always loved this bible reading. Now I know that Abraham was quite new to monotheistic worship – you know, one Deity as opposed to the many gods he had previously worshipped. And we, on the other hand, are not. Still, this reading tells us that God was (and still is) approachable. And isn’t that good news?