“Reminders of home,” she called them. I looked up from my coffee and out the window as my friend casually gestured to the seagulls outside. Seeing that I wore confusion on my face, she elaborated. “Seagulls, anywhere but the sea are reminders that we are travelers on the way; that we will always be foreigners until we are home.” 

I was reminded of her observation on the way to the grocery store this week as, you guessed it, I watched the seagulls (Gulls! My high school biology teacher would be sure to correct me) circling the parking lot. Why they do this, I will never understand. I will be forever grateful for her insight because of their ever-present company circling above the parking lot light posts and unintentionally calling me out of myself. 

We are approaching Holy Week once again, and although I tell myself we listen to the story for my children, I suspect I will always go back to C.S. Lewis this time of year, allowing fauns, beavers, and Aslan, to guide me out of the season of ‘eternal winter.’ Because good children’s stories are timeless and communicate important truths, I am paying attention to light posts. This delicious ritual alongside Madeline L’Engle’s encouragement (Walking on Water) to tesseract our way to places, uninhibited by time and space, as we are in art.

And so we all do, as we navigate Passiontide, becoming pilgrims, having our feet washed after the last supper on Holy Thursday, venerating the Cross on Good Friday, feeling the ache of the tomb on Holy Saturday, and rejoicing on Easter Sunday. 

In the same way, passing gulls remind me of the eventual hope of heaven; entering into Holy Week puts into practice our ability to be present in the Paschal Mystery right now. 

Whether with Aslan, Mrs. Whatsit, Mary, Simon, Mary Magdalene, or the Crucified Lord, I pray that you are accompanied through this holiest of weeks and that it is deeply meaningful. I’ve included a variety of reflections from previous years if you are looking for ways to enter more deeply into Holy week:

Maundy Thursday, Lodgepoles

Holy Thursday & an invitation, if you didn’t get to join the Catholic Social Teaching Spotlight last year, you can find it all here.

Good Friday, I hear you, Mary

Holy Saturday, see below for a reflection I shared for a local volunteer group this week

Easter Sunday, Scripture verses about Resurrection

Be on the lookout for a prayer I’m sharing with Mothering Spirit this week, for when we cannot afford the luxury of Lent.

Holy Saturday

A reading from the Gospel according to Luke:

It was the day of preparation, and the sabbath was about to begin. The women who had come from Galilee with him followed behind, and when they had seen the tomb and the way in which his body was laid in it, they returned and prepared spiced and perfumed oils. Then they rested on the sabbath according to the commandment.

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It had been a long day.

Take a minute to imagine how these women must have been feeling.

Luke, always sure to include detail about the presence of women, describes that it was Jesus’ friends Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Mary who stayed until the bitter end of the longest day. Long enough to see where it was that Jesus’ body would be laid because, in all practicality, they were preparing to do what came next: anoint him. His friends were preparing themselves to prepare his body for burial in the Jewish tradition. Not only that, but they were in a hurry because it was nearly dusk, and as faithful Jews themselves, they would have been going home to observe Shabbat.

Perhaps you have found yourself in a similar position. A place where your heart hasn’t had time to catch up to what is being asked of your hands. Your head is not processing, and your heart has not accepted the truth of what is plainly before you. 

This experience is one of shock, grief, and disbelief, all co-mingling and taking up residence. Most are familiar with the stages of grief, which begin with denial. Instinctive or otherwise, denial numbs us from the whiplash of what was true and isn’t any longer because we simply cannot catch up, emotionally. 

Think about what these women, all of the disciples, must have been trying to reconcile: Jesus was not who he said he was.

Just hours earlier, they were eagerly watching to see how their friend Jesus, Son of God was going to be made known to the world. Their friend, the One they had come to know as the miracle worker and Messiah, had come to set Israel free and reign, victorious. But…

Imagine their confusion when Jesus does not approach the Sanhedrin with force or might. Imagine their humiliation as the One they had come to believe would be their Savior, is mocked, spit upon, and stripped of his clothing in front of the jeering crowd. Jesus was not the heavenly King they expected–he was all too human, and his crucifixion proved it.

We have to begin here, in this place of deep desolation, and in the context of previous days’ events, to fully appreciate what the women were about to undertake as they made preparations to bury Jesus, alongside their hopes of a Savior.

Mary Magdalene, Mary, and Joanna showed up at the place of pain and humiliation–their beloved Jesus’, and their own (how could they have gotten it so wrong?!). The very tactile act of mixing burial spices, making tangible again the truth they hoped not to believe.

They didn’t have to show up–in fact, most didn’t. It’s not clear where the rest of Jesus’ disciples spent ‘holy Saturday.’ After all, purity laws being what they were, being in contact with the dead at the dawn of Shabbat would have made them ritually unclean, and Jesus appeared to be a fraud. But, despite their deep grief, and out of love for their friend, they rolled up their sleeves and took on this work of mercy to dignify their beloved.

There is wisdom for us here, of course. 

The women in Luke’s Gospel are small figures in the greater Easter story, but we find them giving, digging in when the world appeared not to be watching. Disillusioned as they may have been, they showed up, imperfectly carrying out the next step on a journey they couldn’t understand or predict. Not so different from us on any given day.

In the same way that we venerate the Cross and acknowledge Jesus’ agony on Good Friday, we might do well to spend some time in prayer with the faithfulness of Jesus’ friends on Holy Saturday.

-Who do you love that has disillusioned you, and what is your posture toward them?

-Which of your hopes have gone unfulfilled? How do you choose to move forward?

-Have you left room in the space between your head and your heart for the Christ to do something illogical, unpredictable, and unimaginable?

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Call me captain obvious, but I’m finding (once again) that there is nothing pretty about entering Lent. Beautiful? Absolutely. Growing? Definitely. Palatable? Less so.

This morning already, even while chocolate cookies bake for fat Tuesday, I’m mentally readying myself for the stark season we embark on tomorrow, and even the mundane to-do list smacks of little deaths and resurrections:

1. Take down Valentine décor
2. Plant garden seedlings/revive overwintered geraniums
3. Own up to biting off more than you can chew with the Lenten devotional
4. Enjoy final cup of coffee

As a gardener, the word Lent (which means springtime) resonates with me deeply. It is perfectly matched with the interior work of preparing and cultivating, metaphorically letting worms run wild through the compost of my life with the understanding that the more work done now, the more beautiful growing season it will be. But I’ve got to tell you, I was working in the yard this morning. I was sweating, I was muddy, and all I have to show for it is a bunch of red solo cups full of dirt, and a couple of paltry looking geraniums that spent the winter in a brown paper bag.

This doesn’t bode well for what’s about to take place. I repeat: There is nothing pretty about Lent.

I’ve given in to circumstantial Lents for the past couple years simply because those seasons were growing in and of themselves, bringing me to my knees and offering ample opportunities to die to myself. That said, having the option to personally select my cross this year, feels like a big deal. Thanks be to God for peaks and valleys! Whether you find yourself in on a mountain top, or deep in a valley, I pray that Jesus meets you right in the middle of it all.

As I planted seeds this morning, imagining the garden I’m hoping to cultivate after two summers without one, I couldn’t shake the thought that it is a fitting time to be shoving withered seeds into the earth. Everything about it is counter-intuitive. Just like the Paschal mystery: Dying to rise.

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On a related note, the Lenten reflection booklet was making strides, but in order to provide a thorough and professional option with ample lead time, I’ve decided to offer it for next year. What I can tell you is that I am excited about what’s coming and I think it will be worth the wait. While I was excited to get this into your hands asap, I am grateful to have the space to move a bit slower and to provide a better option next spring.

Enjoy your Mardi Gras celebrations today. I am praying for a nourishing Lenten journey for us all this year.

“ I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.  He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more.  You have already been pruned and purified by the message I have given you.  Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me.” -John 15: 1-4

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Advent Greetings to you!

This is far and away my favorite season for its metaphors of darkness and light, Love Incarnate, and illustrations of God-with-us. I’m snatching this unexpected window for writing, as the baby finally fell asleep as it was time to leave for Mass, second-hand tea bag steeping in the stolen quiet while the rest of the gang drove off in the frosted car.

I laughed out loud as I read today’s reflection about listening and staying awake: ‘The holy thief breaks into our lives quietly, the barely audible click of a door, the softest padding of feet.’ I have found myself waking from Nutcracker-like dreams, laying in bed listening for the snap of mouse traps as our unfinished construction project looms on, beckoning more than one weary seeker to find shelter in our home. Hardly the holiday-ready home pictured in any ad splashed before our eyes this month.

There is no shortage of shiny resources to aid us in providing a new lens through which to receive this Advent–hoping it will be the most enriching and spiritually-nourishing yet. This fresh start feels plausible because we have been changed over the past year and understand the Nativity story through a newly-lived experience. I don’t know about you, but I am certainly a different person than the one preparing to welcome the Christ child last year this time; I have been stretched in every sense of the word. Perhaps that resonates with you, too.

And it is good to be reminded that the One we are preparing for was born into a poor family, amidst livestock. Word made flesh, straight into the feed trough. Bread of Life from the very beginning. High hopes, alongside very domesticated ones.

For all the good intentions and high hopes for the peace-filled and spiritually renewing season, it is the nitty-gritty of our every day that the Lord is waiting to enter into. At the risk of domesticating Emmanuel, I invite us to carve our space for that, too. 

Japanese Kintsugi (golden repair) and Navajo weavers who leave intentional flaws in their design, offer tangible reminders of the ways our best efforts, though good and beautiful, necessarily fall short of the perfection we seek. This does not diminish their goodness but accentuates our radical dependence on God. Offered willingly to the One who is perfection, our efforts (and ourselves) will in turn be created anew.

So with confidence we bring our lackluster prayer lives, our uninspiring decor, our fraying favorite sweater, even our sharp edges that bump up against others in the frenzy of holiday preparation, and lay them in the dust of the Creche, asking that this year we might glimpse the startling goodness of our humble offerings. 

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“Hope is one of my favorite emotions because of its humility. It’s not like gladness or joy which stick around just for the good stuff. Hope is my heart’s missionary– it humbly seeks fear and shame and befriends them. Hope enters the very dusty portals or my heart and clears out the cobwebs, and whispers the promise of perfection.”

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In other news…

I am thrilled to tell you that I am sharing in collaboration with Mothering Spirit some tender thoughts on Complicated Joy and the way the Lord has been speaking to my heart over the past year.

In case you missed it over at Blessed Is She, I got to share on the Synod and the Paradox of Martin the Merciful. Be on the lookout for a Christmas meditation inspired by one of my favorite artists in December!

Related reflections

A Tale of Two Advents    Light in the Darkness     Thresholds     Playing the Waiting Game

Around the Web

Advent with Oscar Romero, a free resource for Advent Reflections by Cameron Bellm

Mystery Deeper Than Memory, Sacred Remnant

Opportunity to give

I’ve shared my support for Heifer International. If you are inclined, their holiday drive is being TRIPLED this cyber Monday, extended through Tuesday.

Treat Yourself to a movie–

12/10 recommend seeing the first episodes of the Chosen Season 3 in Theaters. Coming in at #3 Thanksgiving weekend. I’d be sad to see you go. But if you want to, you can unsubscribe from here

The post Humble offerings appeared first on Unexpected Honey.

Because I was expecting last year, one of the best gifts I gave myself was a peaceful Advent. I’ve mentioned before that I attempt to prepare as though Christmas were on November 25 so I am not making myself crazy at my favorite time of year, to lean in and slow down. Everybody has their own system and this may not work for you, but if it sounds appealing, here is a list of some ideas worth preparing for and keeping it simple while having a ripple effect on the wider community.

I don’t usually do much regarding shopping ideas because there are a million holiday gift guides (and I’m excited to encourage folks to not spend money), but if you do buy gifts, here are a handful of great organizations with creative missions and thoughtful products.

Something to wear

Empowered Goods— beautiful hand-made jewelry that gives women in Mexico a living wage.

Brick House in the City–Ethically made, Catholic tees for women/men/children. So thoughtful and well-designed! *Watch for Advent devotional here, too.

Bombas– Super comfy socks, and for every pair purchased, one is donated.

Something to Read

**I”ll admit that there is an inverse correlation between night time wakings and reading recommendations.

Give Us This Day— Reflections and daily readings for the Liturgical year; easy to subscribe on someone else’s behalf or provide for someone who is incarcerated.

Evangelization and Culture— beautiful journal put out by the Word on Fire Institute

Pray for Us & Saints Around the World The Saints Around the World book is a favorite at our house. Meg is a knowledgeable and gifted writer who is able to describe the real lives of saints in a way that is tangible.

Become a Patreon supporter for Mothering Spirit, and support the wider mission of ecumenical dialogue and prayerful reflections on parenting. **Reminder: Send yourself and/or a friend on virtual Parable: A Retreat on Change for Ordinary time (held over the lunch hour) October 26-28, Sing a New Song Birth Stories retreat with Mothering Spirit (November 4-6). Other dates yet to be announced.

Hallow-an app for those wanting a variety of prayer and relaxation resources.

Something you want

Blessed is She Advent devotional, 2023 Planner, candles, etc. (Affiliate)

Equal Exchange Coffee, Tea & Chocolate

Cards by Anne

Come Be Our Light matchsticks, perfect for Advent wreaths and small hands.

Advent wreath

10,000 Villages Fair Trade home goods

The Chosen series–I’m still 10/10 recommending this series and anxiously anticipating season 3! You can purchase DVDs for your own viewing or pay it forward for someone else.

Something you need (or something someone else needs)

*Clearly you are the best judge of what you need. But, if you need any help meeting the needs of others, here are some outstanding organizations leading the charge:

International Justice Mission– Working to end human trafficking (modern day slavery)

Catholic Relief Services– Provides humanitarian aid to people in need around the world

Heifer International– teaches farming and agriculture in communities to promote self-sufficiency, education and clean water

Homeboy Industries supports those getting out and staying out of gangs and prison.

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I’d love to learn about organizations that you support this time of year or any time!

The post Preparing to prepare appeared first on Unexpected Honey.

Recently, our Catholic paper published a fantastic issue centered entirely on the Church’s consistent ethic of life. It served as a good reminder to readers that the pro-life issue encompasses more than abortion, for which I am deeply grateful. As I flipped, I was searching for the resource page for families interested in adoption or making themselves available for foster care; and it was not there. 

It simply is not there.

There is a gaping hole in adoption services within the Church’s consistent ethic of life. I have heard this from hopeful adoptive parents for years, and have been personally frustrated that any hope I have entertained of enlarging our family in this way has been thwarted simply by the expense, or red tape of working through state programming.

For hundreds of years, providing care to children without families (for whatever reason) was the work of the Church. Creating opportunities for those children to be placed in loving homes was a vibrant ministry. This is no longer the case and there is a great deal of collateral damage in terms of families who dream of having children, who cannot. And children who dream of having families, who simply will age out of the system while they wait for the bureaucratic wheels to turn.

Echoes of social work classes I took back in the day have been coming to mind with frequency. There was always a tremendous emphasis placed on the baby boomers who would require resources, care, nurses, etc. in our lifetime. The current systems would experience a surge that would likely push past the breaking point of what the care industry would be able to absorb. We needed to be attuned to this, and ready to step up with creativity and awareness. 

In the wake of the recent Dobb’s decision, I cannot help but feel that we are approaching a very different sort of baby boom. In a new way, it is clear that we are not prepared for the surge of needs that are about to come down the pike, but we haven’t had decades to prepare for it in the same sense. Not that the resources aren’t available, but the systems are simply not in place. Which is shameful as the current number of families in the U.S. waiting to adopt is somewhere between one and two million.

‘Good news and bad news. The good news is we have all the money we need for the project. The bad news is, it’s still in your pockets,’ as my favorite tongue-in-cheek fundraiser put it.

I wonder if you have ever considered adoption as an option? Do you know families who are? If so, you’ll likely know that US private adoptions cost somewhere in the ballpark of $40k. In many cases, the adoptive family is required to make a website advertising their eligibility as a candidate and they can wait years (YEARS) to be matched with a child. That’s if they have the resources to shell out tens of thousands of dollars to expand their family (in addition to time off, paperwork, legal fees, agency fees, etc). What about the families with the desire and space for more children in their homes for whom cost prohibits the very idea of adoption?

Mainstream media is looking to the Church as a first responder in the recent turning of the tide when it comes to abortion laws in the US. ‘What is the Church going to do now that Roe has been overturned?’ I heard in one interview. A wise Archbishop responded: ‘The Church will do what it has always done to accompany women in crisis pregnancy situations, but we cannot do it alone.’ 

During the pandemic, while church buildings had closed their doors, there was an important distinction being made while criticism of churches closings cropped up. ‘The Church isn’t closed–we are the Church!’ That is as true today as it was in the early days of Covid.

In other words, this change is going to ask something of all of us. If we haven’t stepped up our game to support individuals in crisis pregnancy situations already (or any crisis situation), it’s time. 

“What we would like to do is change the world–make it a little simpler for people to feed, clothe, and shelter themselves as God intended them to do. And, by fighting for better conditions, by crying out unceasingly for the rights of the workers, the poor, of the destitute–the rights of the worthy and the unworthy poor, in other words–we can, to a certain extent, change the world; we can work for the oasis, the little cell of joy and peace in a harried world. We can throw our pebble in the pond and be confident that its ever widening circle will reach around the world. We repeat, there is nothing we can do but love, and, dear God, please enlarge our hearts to love each other, to love our neighbor, to love our enemy as our friend.” -― Dorothy Day

The Catholic Church holds all life sacred from conception to natural death and will advocate for life in all circumstances. However, without a major overhaul of accessible adoption options, Catholics (or anyone for that matter) are no more likely to avail themselves for the impending baby boom, no matter how pure and deep the desire to do so might be. It will simply remain out of reach. I suspect this is where the creativity of the Body of Believers is needed most urgently.

Instead of go fund me pages and yard sales, what if families could go to their parish and request financial assistance to become certified foster families, or to help fund adoptions? Creativity & awareness.

I think the good Archbishop is right about one thing, it is going to take everyone re-thinking and stepping up to support the women, men, and children most intimately affected by the Dobbs verdict who find themselves in uncharted waters; coincidentally that has a ripple effect. That might mean finding a local pregnancy center to support, accompanying families walking through new parenthood, or the emotional road of placing a child for adoption. At its core, I think living into this new era as the Body of Believers begs the question of each of us: 

Why not us? Could we make room for one more? 

Because at its core, that’s what love does. It makes room where there was none (think Advent). A longer table; more water in the soup. What greater witness could we offer than to open our own homes so that all would know the love of family (and that doesn’t just imply babies)? That instead of laws that are strictly pro-birth, we could embrace the all-encompassing title of pro-life. What if we resembled the shocking community of the early church that found people slack-jawed in its wake, murmuring: ‘Look how they love one another.’

There is no such thing as other people’s children. This is a reality I find myself grappling with in a new way. Maybe you do, too?

(For further inspiration, listen to The Highwomen’s Crowded Table) 

The post Longer Tables appeared first on Unexpected Honey.

There is something greater than Jonah here. –Matthew 12:41

Let me tell you something about Jonah. I have a love/hate relationship with him. Not that he isn’t a great Prophet or anything. It’s just that irritation we recognize as a result of *those* people who remind us of our own faults. They rub us the wrong way.

I have a vivid memory stored in my mind of a girls’ weekend during grad school where I snuck away with friends to rest/eat/drink/marvel at the work we had been about. Many of us were wrapping up capstone projects; one was carrying a new life. We were deep in discernment around what was to come next, and getting away and into the quiet of the snowy woods felt good.

The time away was balm for my spirit–driving home, less so

Along the way, someone had been learning about the enneagram. It really can be a wonderful tool  to help identify strengths and weaknesses for self-reflection or group work. She pulled it out during the drive home for the fun of it.

While we took our little inventories and scored ourselves based on preferences and natural tendencies, I quickly identified myself as a “nine;” the peace-maker. This was not at all surprising. If anything it was an affirmation of what I knew to be true about myself after twenty-odd trips around the sun.

As we talked about the ‘fit’ of our characteristics, we began reading about the Scripture that might shed the most light on our gifts and ‘growing edges.’ You already know what’s coming. My Scripture story: You Guessed it.

Jonah. The man God asked to save Nineveh. Jonah the great prophet, who out of fear of the task set before him, hops a ship to run away from God’s call. Not only that, when his shipmates figure out who he is running from, they send him overboard at which time he is swallowed by a whale. All before he gets up the gumption to do what it is that was being asked of him, and is promptly dispatched from the belly of the whale to go and get to work.

Sweet humility: Jonah is my Scriptural personality twin

Regardless of his slow start, once he gets moving, Jonah has tremendous success. Nineveh is a huge city—one that takes three days to walk through. “Forty more days and Nineveh will fall,” is the unpopular message he’d been told to share. As a peacemaker, I feel for him roaming about with this message. No one in Nineveh wanted to hear that. But, because of Jonah’s obedience and (eventual) courage, the Ninevites and their king put on sackcloth, fasted, and repented. Having witness their metanoia, God did not carry out the evil that He intended (Jonah 1-2).

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Take-aways

1. Growing up, I always heard that having the kinds of folks in our lives who happen to irk us, is in fact a good reminder of how not to behave. I believe it–there is hope for growth in each of us. *Though truthfully, I still squirm a bit even when I see illustrations in children’s Bible stories of Jonah inside the belly of a whale!
2. Particularly when God is guiding any of us toward something—regardless of how uncomfortable or unprepared we feel for the endeavor ahead—our level of anxiety is not proportionate to its impending failure. Sure, it is possible. But, more often than not, if God is leading the venture, failure wasn’t on the table to begin with.

Just as Jonah was in the belly of the whale three days and three nights, so will the Son of Man be in the heart of the earth three days and three nights. At the judgment, the men of Nineveh will arise with this generation and condemn it, because they repented at the preaching of Jonah; and there is something greater than Jonah here.

Matthew 12:40-41

As we continue to embrace to affects of Holy week, Jonah might be a fitting companion. For all his faults, Jonah does know a thing or two about cooperating with God in unimaginable and salvific circumstances; which is our invitation, too. The process of dying to ourselves to rise is Paschal mystery in a nutshell.

Summoning courage

In the spirit of summoning courage to begin something new that I have been putting off for a while, I am inviting you to take part with me in a deep-dive into Catholic Social Teaching. My hope is to dig into these tenets of our faith has been with me for years now, and I am finally ready to do it and am hoping that you’ll join me!

Click here to join us for bi-monthly deep-dive into the social teachings of the Church!

I’m making these reflections available to subscribers only, so please subscribe. I would really appreciate it if you would invite others who might enjoy a closer look at some fantastic content and giveaways!

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This post is part of a blog hop by Spoken Women, an online community of Catholic women nurturing their creative callings. Click here to view the next post in this series “Something Greater.” *

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Holy Thursday

The Triduum is upon us, friends. Tonight we celebrate the washing of the feet and the institution of the Eucharist. I have long been grateful for the humble, practical way that we enter into the low lows and high highs of this week; that the story of salvation begins with a posture of service toward others. How, in recent years, Pope Francis has continued to make this tangible by celebrating Holy Thursday in detention centers and prisons.

As I prepare to enter into these holiest of days, and with this reminder, there is one idea and invitation that I am bringing with me:

Stagnant

Maybe it has been the anniversary of pandemic living that has me thinking in terms of the broader community that shaped me before my whole life took place from my kitchen table. I have been thinking back to when the needs of those on the margins were part of my daily and professional conversation and reflection. While our kiddos have certainly provided a place to intentionally practice the corporal and spiritual works of mercy, it has been an isolating year, to say the least. Intentionally being around the unmet needs of others kept me from becoming complacent, spiritually or otherwise, and to be honest, I don’t feel like I am in that place of constant examination and call to conversion of heart anymore…and I don’t like it.

I am also looking ahead with hope to a time when won’t feel the burden of public health guidelines to inform our interactions with others. The concept of time when we can be physically present to one another again. What will that even look like?!

Staying in the mix

I recently prepared a reflection on Jonah, my (humbling) Scriptural personality twin, who also likes to keep the peace and doubts seriously the clear invitations laid out before him, by God. He’s just that guy who reminds me of my ugly tendencies to get comfortable and stay there. So in honor of Holy Thursday, and in an act of self-awareness that could pull me from a place of comfort and back into the mix a bit, I’ll share with you something I’ve been waiting for someone else to do for a long time.

Since they haven’t, I’m hoping that you’ll consider joining me as I respond to my inner promptings.

As a grad student, and a parishioner working in outreach, I’ve been disappointed by the lack of user-friendly materials that invite the faithful to incorporate and deepen their relationship between faith and service, faith and justice. For ages, I have wished for an accessible way to engage people in the wealth of life-giving resources the Church has in her reserves in terms of teachings for times such as these. What could/should outreach look like? Where do we put our resources? Amidst the litany of unmet needs, where do we begin? How does our tradition stay Ever Ancient and Ever New? And why does the Church come off from time to time as, a bit nosy?

‘Best kept secret‘

You might recognize what I’m getting at as Catholic Social Teaching, but if you don’t—you’re not alone! One unfortunate tag-line that is associated with these beautiful teachings is that they remain the ‘best-kept secret in the Catholic Church.’ Of course, you don’t have to be Catholic to participate, but if you are I hope that delving deeper into what is already ours is an enriching experience.

I hope to provide an evergreen foundation that offers an introduction to these teachings and a challenge to participants to grow in their understanding of what it means to be a Church that serves Christ in those they encounter on the margins; in the other.

What you can expect

In this bi-monthly undertaking, I’ll include my curated reflections and prayers in addition to incorporating the source documents that make up Catholic Social Teaching. You will also get to hear from holy men and women who have contributed to and continue this tradition today. If you subscribe, you’ll receive two additional e-mails from me each month during this series. *I’m also planning for some fun giveaways and ways to continue the conversation!

The Invitation

As I mentioned, this is new territory for me and I’m learning as I go. In a perfect world, I would *love* for this to serve as a pilot for a resource I could someday make more widely available for others, so your feedback is essential!

If this has you as excited as it has me, subscribe here to be sure you’re on the CST Spotlight email list as we’ll begin next Thursday! I am only making this available for those who subscribe. That said I’d deeply appreciate your passing along the invitation to others you know who might be interested in delving deeper, too! For those with schedules that do not allow for anything extra right now, fear not, you will continue to receive periodic e-mails from me, but nothing additional.

Here’s to embracing the call to wash feet, committing to growth in the Easter season & stepping away from *those* tendencies that bog us down. I’m looking forward to diving deeper together!

But first, delve into Holy week. I pray that it is nourishing, challenging, and celebratory in all of the ways we most need!

The post Holy Thursday & an Invitation appeared first on Unexpected Honey.

Hopefully, this month has offered that same fresh feel that the new year brings, coaxing us into a time of possibility. More than likely, at this late date, some of the newness is wearing off. At least we can collectively exhale, if for no other reason than having made it through 2020. Congratulations!

Good News

I had the privilege of starting the year with an (online) Epiphany retreat. There were folks from all over the country–and the world. One of the benefits of an event that takes place on Zoom is that gatherings that might have been limited by geography or scheduling, can now be attended by a wide array of people. One of the fruits of this gathering was a strong sense of encouragement to dig into Scripture this year. The word gospel translates as ‘good news,’ beginning the year with a book from the Gospels seemed like an obvious choice.

Around the same time, I discovered KINDRED’s Gospel of Mark. Perfect timing for Liturgical year B where the Gospel readings at Mass all come from St. Mark.

Accessible

I have learned that KINDRED’s mission is to make Scripture readily accessible to everyone to ‘Encourage more acts of faith.’ They rightly note that attempting to read the Bible can be a discouraging task because the Bible is many, many books (the number varies, depending on the translation) all put together, resembling more of a library than a chronological telling of our faith story.

This is also why Pope Francis instituted a day celebrating ‘Word of God Sunday‘ as we return to ordinary time. Catholics have not always been known for their familiarity with sacred Scripture, but Pope Francis encourages the faithful to dive in particularly because the Word is so widely available in our present age. St. Jerome, famous for translating most of the Bible into Latin, reminds us that “Those who are ignorant of Scripture, are ignorant of Christ.” So let us dig in!

New Eyes

To invite further exploration of Scripture one book at a time, KINDRED has begun publishing beautiful, contemporary books with gorgeous photography. It is an entirely new presentation of Biblical texts. It almost has the feel of curling up with a new version of an old favorite while feasting with my eyes and heart. Of course, it is the same story–but experienced with new eyes. As someone who has fallen in love with Visio Divina and visual illumination of the Word, it is probably no surprise that having a text that is also visual is a powerful experience. 

This sort of Scriptural presentation lends itself to further study of individual books, a special edition of a favorite book of the Bible, Bible studies with groups, or an awesome resource collection for home faith study. Aside from relatively recent journaling style Bibles, in general, Bible presentation has been pretty uniform for a long time. The Bibles we find in hotel rooms are not wildly different from those we reference at home–give or take a concordance. 

Your Invitation

If my stats are correct, the number one podcast in America this week is Bible in a Year with Fr. Mike Schmitz. This news is so heartening! There is a hunger for good news–the Good News! If this invitation speaks to you, consider making a plan to be immersed in the Word this year. If you decide to, I would love to hear where you decide to begin and what it yields for you.

*KINDRED is currently offering 10% off online purchases with promo code: WORSHIP

The post Word of God Sunday appeared first on Unexpected Honey.

The past several months have taught each of us something about ourselves, or we are not paying attention. In our honest moments, we know what our coping mechanisms are, who our people are, and what must happen each day to keep us functioning at our best. For example, I am now certain that I am not called to homeschool my children. I have to get outside every day, and I want coffee ready when I get up. And, when it comes to news, I am a slow percolator.

Give me a setup for a good pun and I am on it immediately. A defiant attitude in my house and we will chat about it before the dust settles. If someone goes out of their way for me, a thank you card goes out in the mail the next day. But put me in front of live coverage of an attack on the US Senate, complete with images of a noose, crosses, confederate flags, and anti-Semitic t-shirts? I have to sit with that for a long while before I have a coherent response.

Do not get me wrong, I am not on the fence about whether or not that was an appropriate action or not. Or whether it is an insult to the American flag (it was). The entire event was unconscionable from beginning to end. Hard stop.

And by no means am I decrying those quick to articulate a response to these atrocities with speed and accuracy. What I find frustrating in the wake of, yet another event of national and international consequence is the public call for loud opinions to be shared promptly and with or without due reflection, coupled with the accusation that a lack of opinion shared is the equivalent of approval of said event or cause.

I am hungry for thoughtful (prayerful?) responses in place of the easy answers and snap judgments that ping their way around the interwebs. We are long past the grieving of dialogue, and yet the only way to return to that place has to be to stop yelling into the vacuum of like-minded opinions and to converse thoughtfully and respectfully with those who see the world differently than we do, without judgment.

We have been here before

As a parent, it is easy to lament the rocky road ahead for all of us, our children in particular, given the events of this past month/year(s). And yet, we have been here before over and again, sadly. The circumstances are different. The only thing unchanging is our lack of creativity in responding in a thoughtful way. What do I mean?

I can think of a couple of examples where we have found ourselves responding similarly, though there are likely hundreds more.

Women’s movement

First, the women’s liberation movement: Before you exit and decide I have lost my mind or any right to call myself a “feminist,” or that I wasn’t also moved by the election of the first female Vice President yesterday, hear me out. The women’s movement was necessary and voiced important and overdue complaints about unequal treatment, pay, and abuse that had long gone unspoken and, unheard. The message was that women are equal to their male counterparts and that we deserve equal access to education, careers, pay, representation, benefits, and freedom from harassment. It was a demand for what men had become accustomed to enjoying in this country. In a nutshell: That our girls could grow up confidently in a world that would see their full potential. Bravo!

The unexpected side effect of this female-centered movement was that it left boys behind in its wake. Given the events of the past year, you rightly may have lingering doubts about whether or not the patriarchy has dissipated. However, have you observed boys/men being encouraged to be whatever they wish alongside their female counterparts? Have you noticed any library displays near you heralding male role models in history? College attendance, career choice, and men’s suicide and mental health have had an inverse effect compared to that of women and girls ever since the seventies.

*If you are unsure about this correlation, or if you have children, nephews, grandchildren, or students, give this insightful TED Talk a listen, or watch  The Red Pill, and see if there might be a glimmer of truth in it.

I am all for pushing forward the cause of treating women with their God-given dignity but not by underplaying or denying the experiences or inherent dignity that is also due to men.

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Church Politics

The Church is another prime example. Those of us who have paid attention to Church politics for any amount of time know that there is a pendulum that swings wildly every few decades, between conservatism and liberalism. Whichever voice is en vogue at the time works hard to be the only voice heard, thereby caricaturing (at best) or villainizing (at worse) the opposing approach to embodied Gospel living. Each time we silence a different perspective, we pay a cost even when we might not be able to identify it at the time. To pigeon-hole the Body of Christ is to undercut the diverse ways we are invited to live the Gospel.

In turn, the whole world suffers when the Body of Christ joins the cacophony of bullhorns promoting their agenda. The repercussions are vast. We are a Church that thrives on both/and thinking over either/or. We need both soup kitchens and liturgy of the hours; Eucharistic adoration and care for creation; a consistent ethic of life that is willing to speak up for babies in utero and on behalf of someone’s baby on death row. 

To lose what either perspective brings is to lose largely.

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You name it

You pick the topic in present-day America (race/religion/politics), and we see vast division. Cancel culture, or negating an entire person/company/community because of their current or once-held worldview, is in full force right now. Each position is vying for the ability to silence all opposing views. Where this has particular significance is in our collective efforts to raise the voices of those who have been marginalized so that we might hear the stories that should have been told long ago and learn from them.

The instinct to elevate, honor, and listen to the voices of those who have been marginalized or under-represented is essential, good, and overdue! These stories and experiences that have been told in a whisper, or worse yet, silenced, deserve to be heard with attention and respect. The stories that challenge our experience deserve our reflection. And, if we learn anything from our history, we must be on the lookout for our inadvertent oversight. What are we at risk of losing when selecting who has a ‘worthy’ voice or perspective to contribute? In other words, what success stories exist because of the extinguishing of one racial/religious/political worldview?

Spoiler alert: None. 

Very quickly, this exclusive mentality moves into dangerous territory that smacks of censorship, or worse. Our instinct to hold up what is charitable, good, and true, only works insofar as it recognizes the inherent dignity of all of those who hold opinions—no matter how distasteful they may be. Very few have walked this sacred ground holding the two in tension. No pithy Instagram post conveys what is asked of us on this level. Instead we defer this humble work to the professionals and exempt ourselves. 

The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult, and left untried.” –G.K. Chesterton

Where do we go from here?

I was at a conference years ago and had the pleasure of listening to a speaker on Catholic Social Teaching that began by describing the chaotic scene of his three daughters jumping on a bed. We can easily picture the boisterous scene. It did not take long before one of his daughters tumbled off and cracked her head on a table in the room. As a loving parent, he went with full concern to the daughter who was injured to attend to her immediate needs. He did not do this because he did not care about his other children, or loved them any less. He rightly acknowledged that his bleeding daughter’s needs were more immediate than theirs.

Understandably the other children were upset because of what they had seen and required consoling. Once care had been administered to the injured girl, the father was free to console and reassure his other children. Were they responsible for their sister’s fall? Would she be OK? They were relieved to know she was alright, and to talk about how they might avoid such a situation in the future. Not to mention they were relieved not to have to process the frightening experience, alone. 

This is the heart of what it means to have a preferential option for the poor

I think the American conscience is attempting this, at least in part. That we are culturally rushing toward the hurt and the need is hopeful, Christ-like, even. The dots that still need to be connected are the continued love and support for those who are not currently injured. We are right to address the immediate harm done. What are the needs of those who have witnessed the harm of these recent events, perhaps even participated in them; but have not been harmed directly? How do we lift them, too?

How are we to rise, if not together?

Preferential option for the poor is not always a popular topic. As you can imagine, it has caused some of us to fear (or resent) not being among the ‘preferred.’ Is it possible that God would not prefer us, we worry? Instead of adopting a theology of abundance and mercy that we profess with our lips, we have an unfortunate tendency to take matters into our own hands and try to hustle for a limited amount of grace and mercy (theology of scarcity). This is our hang-up. In the process, we can harm others by way of proving our ‘preferredness.’

And there is an essential truth for us in it. There is no need to hustle to get close to the heart of God—God wants each of us, wholly. God desires the good of all, not at the expense of some. There is a rich history of God staying close to those who have suffered greatly. We are on the right track by doing the same. Acknowledging the ways we operate out of a fear to be heard by God or anyone else, is to be aware of our tendency to hustle unnecessarily. It seems to me that we find ourselves at an ‘all or nothing’ crossroads once more: How do we move ahead without running the risk of leaving folks behind?

Cheers to a New Year, to a posture of thoughtful listening, and a theology bigger than our fears.

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Other pieces around the web recently:

Visitation Moment

Maybe like me, you had your Visitation moment and felt something deep within you leap for joy when you first heard the expression: ‘The glory of God is the human person fully alive.’

Let that sink in for a moment…read on.

Elizabeth Ann Seton

In the hope of all that new years and new calendar pages bring, 2021 is pregnant with possibility. Inspired by Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, would that we be attentive to our own callings within callings! Maybe this is what will get us though the lingering wait, believing that our gifts and talents add a particular value for this time, as surprising as we ourselves might find it.

In a season that has made us all students, and many teachers, perhaps Saint Elizabeth’s intercession is just what we need at the dawn of a New Year…read on.

Lent is coming…

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Snowy mornings make Advent tangible to me. When the stars align, it may lead to tiptoeing downstairs into the dark, still-cold morning quiet and lingering in prayer. The rarity of being the only one up, or the overcast morning shadows in a state with lots of sunshine, reminds my body that these are treasures and deserve savoring. For all their peace, they are often accompanied by early morning mitten-searches, but the arrival of snow is received joyfully on this end of winter.

Which is a place to begin when it comes to joyful anticipation

We know, of course, that this wording will inevitably be sprinkled into our Advent homilies: “wait in joyful hope,” we will hear. Outside we’ll nod at the familiar sentiment but perhaps chafe internally at the mixed messages—to be both waiting and joyful. Yes?
Over the years we have learned from seasoned Advent travelers that the journey is intended to be taken slowly, plodding through the season alongside the Holy Family. And yet, when we know the celebration coming over the horizon, it can be a real struggle to temper our instinct to skip ahead to the party—especially in a year like this one. After all, we do not have the legacy of the Israelites whose prayerful trust in God bore great fruit over the span of generation after generation.

To put it mildly, we are not a culture of patient people. We don’t raise them and we tend not to have time for those with time to spare. Laughably our legacy might be having the shortest attention spans on planet earth– patrons or patronesses of instant gratification–as we grow more and more accustomed to being entertained, fed, and connected virtually through devices.

So what does Advent mean to a people like us, in a time like this?

Queen Esther might remind us that we were born precisely for a time like this (Esther 4:14). She might add that even our small, faithful efforts to savor the in-between without rushing to the ‘finish line’ provided sustenance to us or those who observe our doing so. From a woman who was certainly a minority in her royal household, she likely knows a bit about going against the grain. She is the perfect example of small, faithful efforts providing sustenance to people beyond our own front door. In this way, Esther is my cheerleader and she can be yours, too!

Real world application

In our area school has been canceled for the duration of the year, and based on the latest local emergency homeless shelter update, caring for those without homes this year with our parish will be done at even greater distances. Instead of community meals eaten together, all pre-packaged meals will be dropped in hotel parking lots, where guests will be able to prepare single-serve meals alone in hotel kitchens. While this may be a welcome upgrade from sleeping on church basement floors, I can’t help but feel that something is being lost in caring for folks (and schooling kids) from a distance, despite its safety.

This year we are in an unpracticed place of gratitude, and not because the Giver of good gifts has ceased to be generous.
What that likely means is that the arrival of those gifts has taken on a new look and we’re feeling hard-pressed to name their goodness. Turkey and pie may grace our tables, online shopping can continue to meet our wants/needs, and there is an accompanying emptiness in our celebrations. In large part it feels as though this has come from this experiment of ‘distancing’ and we’re right to note the disparity.

Mother Teresa famously reminded us that “If we have not peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.”
I wonder if this uncomfortable experience of delayed or distanced celebrating is tinged with the truth of Mother Teresa’s hard-won wisdom. Perhaps it’s been the first time in a long while that we have had such a personal reminder of that important truth. The ramifications of this prophetic truth have a wide reach. If you need to be convinced, mentally track each person on your block and ask yourself if anyone has checked in on them recently. The isolating pinch is personal, its reach is wide.

The weary world

When my mind wanders to the dawning season of Christmas card updates for the year—I’ve wondered what pithy meaning I or anyone else is making of this debacle and how that is going to play out on gold foil cards. I expect lots of references to masks and toilet paper, perhaps top ten canceled events, but joking aside, what meaning is there to be made? How much am I willing to skip past, and what is there to be gleaned from sticking with it?
Despite our fondness for the season of Light in the darkness, the season of Advent is not for the faint of heart. It never has been. It has always provided more than enough reason for the skeptic in us all to doubt. In that way, this year is no different. We feel worn down and cynical of anything else—good or bad–that could possibly happen this year. And, regardless of our circumstances, Emmanuel (God with Us) is reason enough for this weary world’s rejoicing.

More than ever, we all need reminding that we know the end of the story, and it’s worth stretching the celebration out for as long as possible: The Light shines in the darkness & the darkness did not overcome it (John 1:5)

The weary world needs your light. Perhaps you were born for such a time as this.

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This post is part of a blog hop by Spoken Women, an online community of Catholic women nurturing their creative callings. Click here to view the next post in this series “Joyful Waiting”

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