Overheard in Hallowed Halls

I am blessed to work for a Pastor with a great sense of humor, so I love being able to freely joke around with him and other co-workers.

Today he happened to be in our office speaking with my supervisor (not about me!) when I reviewed and printed out documents from an email from the Archdiocesan Office of Worship. This is the office that expresses the legitimate preferences of our Archbishop on all things liturgical and all things canonical in relation to our worship.

Because I coordinate the Confirmation program for my parish, the email was sent to me as a request for help. Apparently in September the person who runs that office sent out a mailing to all parishes, directed to the Pastor, asking them to designate someone from their parish to serve as contact for all things (excluding Confirmation) relating to the Liturgy. Not all parishes responded and ours apparently was one of them.

I dutifully printed the forms and brought them to my Pastor, explaining that I was "asked to give this to you" and that I was being "obedient."

My Pastor reviewed the letters and forms immediately and, glancing from me (pointedly) to my boss, and back to me again (pointedly), asked which of us wanted to be that contact. Neither of us volunteered.

I said that I believe it was directed at the parish Liturgist, but we didn't have one. Father (rightly!) pointed out that HE himself was the Liturgist.  Right he was!

So my superior suggested perhaps HE should be the contact.

He laughed, and once again, looked pointedly at me.

"I'm not a liturgist."  I said, squirming a little, seeing where this was going.

"But you know liturgy."

"Yes I do! I love liturgy!"

He didn't even have to say anything. He just kept looking at me sideways. A lot like my dog does, and when she does, that it means we completely understand each other and know the game afoot.  (Not that I'm calling my Pastor a dog).

Father, pointedly, "So will you be the contact?"

Me:  *sigh*  "OK"  pause  "Does this mean I get a raise?"

Father:  "Your reward will be great in Heaven."

*pause*  (I'm never good with on the spot stuff which is why I don't do apologetics).

Me:  "I could REALLY use a reward NOW, because I need new brakes for my car..."

Father:  *laughing*

Yeah, so I'm the contact for my parish for the Office of Worship. I've been had...or have I?

*chuckle*  

Something to ponder...

Cooking with the Holy Trinity or The Philosophy of Making Soup

Today at work, at the request of my coworkers, I made soup, and admit I leaped at the chance to do so. Why? Because I love cooking and well, French Onion Soup is one of my specialties. (Search recipes and you'll find it's a specialty of a LOT of people, so take that with a grain of...whatever kind of salt is your favorite.)  :-)

I work for a priest who is a self-described "foodie", so yesterday I informed him of the plan so that if he so desired, he would be entitled to try a soup he had in the past expressed he really wanted to learn to make. He was taken a little by surprise (in his unassuming way) and while he was happy with the idea of a "soup day", he asked about the reason...was there an occasion he didn't know about but should recognize?

No...but...uh....well, I finally decided right there on the spot on a 94 degree day after a long hot summer from Hell that as the temp was supposed to drop, "We're celebrating it not being 90 degrees!"

He laughed and agreed this was a most excellent reason to make soup! And further, because he wanted to learn how to make French Onion soup, he asked me to show him what I do. No problem. I let him know when I'd be cooking (taking into account the Mass schedule and the reality of the priestly life), and he nodded his agreement.

I chopped the onions yesterday afternoon, marked them properly and placed them in the 'fridge in the industrial parish/school kitchen. Unfortunately, this morning when I arrived bright and early to begin the process of actually  making the soup, Father was busy with other more important tasks so I began, thinking of how to describe the process to him. It's not difficult but I appreciate his sentiment of wanting to watch how someone does something; it has more impact than mere words. (I personally hope to learn some of his own techniques as he is quite the chef himself...what I know pales in comparison as I know very very little.)

Aside

While chopping onions of course I wept as everyone does, and all I could think about was that someone was going to walk into the sterile stainless-steel kitchen to find me, all by myself, weeping alone with a knife in my hand. 

What would I say?  

I thought of the viral video of the "Girl Who Really Loves Cats!" and there was my answer.
"I just really love onions! ...promised myself I wouldn't cry *sob*  I want to hug every onion but that's CRAZY! You can't Hug. Every. Onion! I want them in a basket with bow ties..." 

And then the men in white coats could drag me off to the funny farm to play with goats and chickens and horses and take long naps. Not a bad plan, really! 

But seriously...

Cooking a boatload of onions for a large quantity of soup always takes longer than expected, but I don't mind the process. As I watch a few cooking shows (OK, I'll admit those guilty pleasures are Hell's Kitchen, Master Chef and Kitchen Nightmares), while standing in that kitchen today I considered how real chefs run around with several pots on the fire...literally. I was nearly bored with my one simple pan of very simple onions and butter. Truly, I would have been more comfortable moving from dish to dish and returning to cook the onions. I could only move potholders, ingredients waiting to be used, and dormant utensils around so much between stirring the pot!

Once the onions and roux were ready, though, I added them to the already-hot broth in the crock pot, introduced  the seasonings and journeyed to my office down the hall for the normal work of the day. An hour later I returned to taste, adjust, stir, and re-cover. Throughout the day this was the pattern, at different intervals, always adjusting.

At one point Father came to the kitchen with me and helped with a taste test. He was encouraging but we both voiced "something was missing."  Neither of us could put our finger on it. I knew it meant I had to keep working at it. Thus is why cooking is often considered an Art.

Labor of Love

Making the soup for my co-workers was a labor of love, and I realized as I was cleaning up all the pots, utensils, cutting boards and everything that had been used, it was also a service. The priest that was there before had remarked upon the occasion our department cooked a meal for our volunteers, that what we placed into the food was love, and that's why it was good.

It was a profound observation on his part. Cooking can be fun, but it can also be real labor. The days I have spent in the kitchen, both at home and at work, cooking for many people, I have ended with aching feet, knees, and back. The prep, the actual act of cooking, serving the food, replenishing, and cleaning, then schlepping things back to their places take a toll. It can be very hard work!

Yet it's a joy, and it's a joy that comes both from loving the work and perhaps, recognizing on some level that it is also a sacrifice that gives maybe an even greater joy to the one who receives that particular gift: the food being created.

At the end of the day today, all of the soup was gone. While there were leftovers, two portions went home with a co-worker for herself and her husband, and another went home with someone else who appreciated not having to cook tonight.

This time (it's not always the case) I got to have some of the soup and even sit down and enjoy it with Father and a few co-workers. In the past, there have been times that I only received a small taste of the final product, that which was served to the guests of honor. I admit that, inside, I cringed a bit and was a tad resentful. Here I had worked so hard and had so much angst about making sure the food was PERFECT, and didn't get hardly any at all!

Yes, I'm a bit ashamed at that very human response, and had to work hard  in those times at suppressing it; I had to remind myself that it was a service, I wasn't cooking for myself but for others. I had offered to make the soup, then AND today, because I like it, can cook it consistently and people who tried it really loved it; it brought them joy. I therefore I have "labored" to bring them that gift of joy.

This all seems so sentimental but there is still a greater point to make, and while soup is the predictable metaphor, there is always a deeper meaning to the things we do as human beings. 

While I was driving home today, reflecting upon the day (as I always do), I pondered the process of making soup and the conversations I'd had about it with Father and my other enthusiastic co-workers.

I explained to Father the practical, logistical end of cooking, because that is a shared technical interest. I spoke with another about the tantalizing process, to elicit anticipation as she is a huge fan of this soup and has recently had a craving for it. With yet another, I spoke with him about the deeper process, that of choosing the right ingredients and right flavors for the best outcome, and also the need for both following the recipe and experimentation in cooking.

As I spoke with each, I couldn't help but think back to what the prior priest said about the nature of our food; that it is an expression of ourselves, and that it is the love that goes into it that makes it taste so good.

It's true. It's true of anything. It's why Gordon Ramsey praises in his show's participants their "passion for cooking".

PASSION

I love that word, "Passion". When we have "passion" for anything, it indicates something we truly love, and maybe something we'd DIE for. Think about it. Think about what people who have a "passion" for something are like. Think about your OWN "passions". Perhaps you wouldn't truly be willing to physically die for something, but what in your life do you sacrifice for those things you love so much?

I already in this blog introduced the idea of a sacrifice of love, so it isn't a stretch to see where I'm going with this concept.

While driving home today, it occurred to me how much the process of cooking, and in this case, making soup, is so much like how God works in our souls.

Tintoretto Christ in the house of Mary & Martha

I had described to my co-worker how I choose the best ingredients I can afford especially when cooking for others. It's because I respect them and also want to give them, through my cooking...myself. My very self. The best of what I can offer them.

That's what God does; He created us all in His image and Likeness.

I had described earlier in this blog some of the sacrifice and suffering that comes with cooking, all for a joyful end for those who are to benefit.

That is what Jesus did; made the sacrifice so that we all might live in glory with Him for eternity.

And I described the love, observed by a prior priest, that gives taste and understanding to the food that is served.

That is the Holy Spirit.

Today was a good day, because I got to give of myself in a special way, in something I don't normally get to do, and my gift brought joy to those who partook of it.

I just wish I could approach every task, philosophically and theologically in the same way as I do in making soup, and perhaps that is something to be pondered in an entirely different post.

On the Question of Children's Attendance at Mass

The following is an article I wrote for our parish newsletter in sort of an indirect response to a comment I'd seen on The Catholic Spirit's web page a month or so prior. In the editorial or comments (whichever it was), a woman lamented the presence of children at Mass, alleging that Mass was "for adults."

Because that attitude is all to prevalent in some circles, I wrote this short blurb for the publication:

Do Children Belong at Mass?

 When I was growing up, Mom made sure Mass was a priority every week. She taught my brother and me to sit and stand just like everyone else, and when I was too little to kneel, she allowed me to stand on the kneeler and directed my attention to the altar. When I was restless or complained about having to go to Mass instead of staying home and playing, Mom reminded me that I had no problem sitting in front of the TV for an hour. Couldn’t I be just as well behaved for God?

Yes, yes I could! I truly did try to pay attention, and was familiar with, most especially, the music. Sometimes it confused me, though. I knew we were there to worship God so who, for example, was that “Hosanna” character we always sang about? Was he just a really good friend of God’s?

Every so often I hear people talking or read in various articles the suggestion that children don’t belong at Mass. That saddens me. Not just because my experience of learning how to worship God was so good, but rather because of the objective nature of the Mass; what it is and Who is made present during the consecration. In the Mass, heaven touches earth and even the very youngest among us and those who cannot receive the Sacraments experience a very real foretaste of Eternity. It’s not about feeling or sentimentality or even about parenting. It is all about God. The Mass, and the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Christ; this is the source and summit of our Faith.

We live in a time that speaks about inclusion; that inclusion should most especially embrace children, the most innocent among us and who perhaps have even MORE of a right to be present! Jesus Himself speaks through the scriptures and tells us that the angels of children look upon the face of God. He admonished His apostles to allow the children to come to Him, and indeed, they do see and understand some of the deepest mysteries of our faith that puts mere intellectual comprehension to shame.

Please bring your children to Mass, help them learn to worship Our Lord and recall His very words, “He who receives one of these in my name, receives Me.”

The Glory and the Folly of the Cross

"The Glory of God is man fully alive!"

 ~ St. Irenaeus

Of course I must inaugurate my blog, formally, with the quote of the Saint who named it! 

"The Glory of God is Man fully alive!"  

This is so true, and it is true in that the one man who fulfilled humanity completely, by taking human nature upon His own Divine nature, in so doing, made us all whole. He who paid the ransom for our sin and was never more fully alive than when He suffered His Passion and Death, lifted upon the Cross as an example to all, but in the end, was not the "example" intended. 

As Jesus suffered, died, and descended into Hell, He was never more fully alive; this truly reveals the glory of God and Man together. He preached His first homily upon the Cross, revealing that the Last Supper was only the beginning and in order for the covenant to be fulfilled, in order for us to partake in the flesh of the Lamb, He had to take the place of the Lamb and reveal Himself definitively as the Son of God. 

Such folly, and the Cross remains a folly to the world in which we live. We Christians in America have not ever been so persecuted as we are now, in recent memory. (Look to the roots of our nation, however, and know that we Catholics have NEVER been truly welcomed here, even as we fled persecution and war elsewhere).   

For most of us, though in our current age, as we did not ourselves cross the Ocean, we find ourselves legal and born citizens of a land that does not want us, and NEVER wanted us. 

Now, even though none of us have ever suffered what our Catholic ancestors did, even the social and political torture at the hands of other professed Protestant Christians, has come home to roost and once again, we are the butt of American Society, and to their utter surprise, the Protestant Christians who once worked so hard to oust we Catholics now find their own filial Confessions uniting with us as they find themselves relegated to the positions in which they first tried to silence us. 

It really is fascinating, when you think about it. 

I, for one, as a Catholic, welcome our separated brethren to the battle, and find you not to be traitors, but true brothers and sisters in Christ whose own ancestors lost their way, beginning with Martin Luther. 

[Aside: You'll find that I'm not very politically correct and have no interest in being so. Nor do I expect such nonsense from any serious followers. Be direct about what you believe and end the wishy-washiness regarding what our respective religions actually believe about each other, please. Thank you].  

Together, we find that our own land does not want us, will not hear us, and seeks actively to squash our Christian beliefs and rights. It will soon not be so different than 1st Century Rome and of course, the Middle East and other parts of Asia and Indonesia, to this day, where Christianity is illegal and punishable by death.

 On This Day

On this day we Christians have a choice to make, and we DO have a choice, even though our current government seeks to limit it. We have a choice to believe in God and follow HIM, even though we are now required by LAW to act in a way contrary to our religious beliefs. 

We can CHOOSE to go along with that directive, or we can choose proper civil disobedience, for the law is unjust, and we should and MUST resist unjust laws! We cannot be complacent, we cannot be silent, and we cannot fear the reactions of others!

YES! We ARE going to lose "friends", especially those from various social networks and secular networks. We ARE going to find that our positions faithful to God are challenged and rejected, and we will be placed in a position to either be silent or lose the esteem of others whether real friends or just the shadows that make up many internet relationships.

YES! We WILL have to present difficult Truths about humanity and eternity and stand behind them, even as we are stoned by words, by rejection, by irresponsible adolescent-invented "glitter bombs" and by media vilification.

BE NOT AFRAID!

Do not be afraid! These are the words of John Paul II to the world at the announcement of the advent of the Springtime of Evangelization. 

Yes, we will suffer and that is proper, for every seed that blooms must be burst into bits in order to give life. God is consistent in His design and even there, in the tiniest seed, is the folly of the Cross, for from the very beginning suffering and deprivation in order to replicate  has been written into the tiniest atom. 

We MUST suffer in order to live eternal life.This is folly to the world, the world which seeks to escape suffering, trying to find refuge in hedonism and a mis-definition of "happiness". A world that does not have God is a world of poverty which actively inflicts its own poverty upon those of Faith, for misery does truly seek company. 

But....BUT! We have a secret! Misery may enjoy company but it cannot overcome the Good, which is diffusive of itself!

Have you ever had a bad day and experienced the kindness of a stranger? Have you ever had a great day yourself and in true joy, smiled at others even if they themselves were perhaps experiencing some random frustration? Have you ever noticed how joy is so CONTAGIOUS? 

Joy is far more communicative than misery. Misery must work to gain disciples; Joy needs no effort at all, but simply IS and passes powerfully. 

The most powerful Joy tends to come from those who suffer the Cross most deeply. Consider all the Facebook Memes about those who are suffering and the inspirational successes they reveal even as they are dying. 

This is the folly of the Cross. This is the inspiration of Christ, the reality of suffering, and the significance of human life seeking eternity. 

This is the reason for the title of my blog. 

Please, join this adventure, and always remember that in the greatest suffering and the greatest joy, God is the author and guides us into a deeper relationship with Him...which always creates a deeper relationship with those around us who are also in need of eternal life. 

This is the folly and the glory of the Cross, and the folly and the glory of our own lives in all its brilliant even if tarnished facets. 

There is no such thing as Glory without Folly. Especially in reference to the Cross of Christ.