“What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?”

Sometimes when I am handed difficult situations or have to respond to aggravating people in a manner befitting a Christian, I rebel. Why is the straight and narrow path so difficult? Why should I be the one to bend all the time? Why should I be forgiving time and again? What would would you have me do, Jesus of Nazareth? It mirrors the cry of the unclean spirits from today’s Gospel. But then an amazing thing happens; the ones who’ve revolted against the Lord of Heaven and Earth, those very unclean spirits obey him when he rebukes them. We are an anointed people, the chosen ones, his brothers and sisters; how much more are we called to love and obey him? Even in difficult moments, Lord, when I feel the need to rebel, watch over me, guide and command me.

I heard my favorite hymn on the radio this morning, and what an appropriate hymn it was:

Soul of my Savior sanctify my breast,
Body of Christ, be thou my saving guest,
Blood of my Savior, bathe me in thy tide,
wash me with waters gushing from thy side.

Strength and protection may thy passion be,
O blessèd Jesus, hear and answer me;
deep in thy wounds, Lord, hide and shelter me,
so shall I never, never part from thee.

(Extra)Ordinary Time of the Year

The homes and churches look bare as the season of Christmas is now over. The Nativity scenes have been packed away, the trees have been dismantled, the poinsettias taken away. The church calendar tells us that we are now in Ordinary time.  Ordinary? Hardly! It reminds me of the call of the priest as he dismisses us after mass, “The Mass is ended, go in peace to love and serve the Lord!”. The mass ends but our task to love and serve the Lord just begins. So then, what does Ordinary time mean for us? It means, to go beyond. To do extraordinary things in ordinary everyday things. It means to love unconditionally, serve patiently, give abundantly. It is not easy and this is why I would not term this Ordinary time because we will need to lean on the Lord even more to do these tasks. But he knows us, our thoughts and our minds. As in today’s Gospel reading, as we sit by our “boats mending our nets”, he says to us “Come, follow me” and we leave our tasks and go. This hymn sums up what my prayer is today:

Lord, when you came to the seashore you weren’t seeking the wise or the wealthy, but only asking that I might follow.

O Lord, in my eyes you were gazing, Kindly smiling, my name you were saying

All I treasured, I have left on the sand there; Close to you, I will find other seas.

God, my Father!

The drive this morning turned me into a such a crabby woman. There was a car which was doing 20 miles/hr in a 50 mile zone, in a single lane. Then, when it finally decided to take a turn and get off the road, a truck eased itself into that space. Anyone who has ever had the unfortunate experience of driving behind trucks would know that those trucks are like mammoths. They are huge, they are slow and they are scary. Oh!!! The misery!!!! I was muttering, shaking my head, rolling my eyes.. the works. There was a voice inside me murmuring, “Saints wouldn’t react like that.”; it only made me madder. “Oh shush!”, I cried at one point. Finally, the truck took a turn; I stepped on the gas and flew. From the corner of my eye, I saw a cop standing outside his car, monitoring the traffic. Oh my goodness!! That doused all of my grouchiness. It was as if a bucket of water had been poured over hot coals. I slowed down, calmed myself and drove sedately.

After about 10 minutes, I burst out laughing. I realized that God has a wonderful sense of parenting. He spoke to me, but I ignored him (as do my kids everyday), he tried to correct me but I stayed obstinate. So, he put something in my path that would make me stop and focus – focus on being patient. I wasn’t listening to his kind instructions so he put someone else in my path who would capture my attention.

I passed a little pond (on Rt.1, no less) and saw among the water lilies, a little family of ducks. The mom was patiently nudging her little ducklings, keeping them from harm. It struck me that God is exactly like that – a gentle, nurturing Father. Thank you for loving me, my Lord!!!

Feast of Saints Peter and Paul

Mom called to tell me that she is watching Pope Benedict offering mass on the feast of Saints Peter and Paul on EWTN. Yesterday, we watched him praying the Vespers on the closing of the Year of St. Paul and as usual, my thoughts were drawn to the way Peter and Paul are usually depicted in art.  Peter with his key and Paul with his sword. They were such different personalities, came from different backgrounds, most often than not had opposing views, but one thing tied them together forever – the love for Jesus. It’s amazing how both of them were redeemed, forgiven their curious faults and raised to a truly deserving place. As St. Paul aptly put it – I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith [2Tim4: 7]. Yes, indeed!! They both competed well, finished the race and kept the faith. Saints Peter and Paul, watch over me and my family and may we all race.. race well, toward the same prize that you gained.

One year later…

so much has happened.  A year ago I learnt that I was pregnant, with our third child. There was some apprehension and then joyful acceptance. On August 15th, the day of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we found out that the baby was a girl. Ah! The joy, the excitement. We decided that she would have the middle name, Mary, because our heavenly mother had seen and understood the longing of our hearts… we had always wanted a little girl to make our family complete.  We waited for her arrival which was scheduled for the end of December. But on the 12th of November things took a drastic turn. I walked into the hospital for a what I thought was a minor complaint for heartburn and came out a week later having survived eclampsia. The baby was in the NICU.  Through it all, Jesus and his angels had watched over me and watched over my little princess. She is now a impish, smiling, 6 month old.

On Friday, a close friend of mine suffered a cerebral hemorrhage and is right now in critical condition. After spending 6 months contemplating how fleeting life is, I’ve been brought back to the feet of Jesus.; this time begging for the healing of my friend. All these trials shake us but make us realize that this is part of living and trusting. I’ve been oscillating between conflicting emotions of fear, trust, sadness and faith when a song by Brandon Heath helped me refocus my energies and be positive today; it’s called Wait and See. Here are the lines from the song that spoke to me:

There is hope, for me yet, because God won’t forget, all the plans he’s made for me
I have to wait and see, he’s not finished with me yet, he’s not finished with me yet
He’s not finished with me yet, He’s not finished with me yet

40 days…

How fast the days after the resurrection flew. Jesus walked among his followers, strengthened them and gave them hope. Today he ascended in all his glory into heaven. But from now until the Pentecost did they feel a vacuum? We know that they were afraid and had locked themselves in on that life-changing event. How empty their hearts must have been. Half believing, half doubtful, half hoping, half desolate. As Christians, how many times have we felt like the disciples. The wonderful thing about it that through it all God stands besides us. He gives us the Advocate who is our voice of reason, our helper, our guide. I tend to forget to call upon him many times but this year I want to speak to the Holy Spirit at every step of the way, get his counsel and follow his advice. I do not want to make myself liable to lose my place in the everlasting kingdom.

He’s gone!

It’s the feeling after a birthday or Christmas comes and goes. Or when vacation ends. Sigh!! I have been a complete TV addict since the day Pope Benedict set foot on American soil. It was so hard to sit still even while watching on the small screen. I swear my face hurt from smiling each time he wiggled his fingers or smiled ever so cutely. I heard the mass at Nationals Stadium at work with my headphones on at watchthepope.com. Each day I raced back to watch his addresses on EWTN. It was exhausting trying to get everyday tasks done with a 7 and 5 year old while listening excitedly to the Pope.

Of course yesterday my mom and I wanted to be in the few empty chairs we noticed in the Yankee Stadium. But even if we didn’t get to be there we felt his presence and felt the Holy Spirit hovering all around the Holy Father. 

Reaching back into my memory bank to the Papal visit to India when I was a teenager – we didn’t have any tickets to see the Pope. Busloads of people ended up in the wee hours of the morning to this remote area – acres of farmland. There were bamboo barricadesset up at intervals. There was an altar on a raised podium and in front of it there were seating areas for the priests and religious. Then there was a vast open space where people put their belongings down, sat down, prayed, sang and waited to see Pope John Paul II and celebrate mass with him. The energy was exactly as it was in DC and NY this week.  What historic moments. Which brings me to the all this comparison of the two popes I’ve been hearing on the news channels. I think it’s quite silly – I loved Pope John Paul and I love Pope Benedict. There could not be better shepherd for the church.

Daffodils

Image Today was the first gorgeous day of the year. Finally, winter, although it was mild this year, seems to be ending. Flowers have been appearing since last week but in the sunshine they seemed even more magnificent today. I love daffodils. I know there are far prettier spring flowers – crocuses, tulips, lilies. But daffodils to me have a more heart connection. I remember in school having to memorize the poem Daffodils by William Wordsworth. Having never seen daffodils growing up in India, each recitation of the poem made my mind’s eye wander and paint this lovely picture of a pasture covered with beautiful yellow flowers! I believed that there could not be a lovelier flower than a daffodil.

 

Catholic schools, religious….

Today the first Friday of the month and at mass and the exposition of the Blessed Sacrament there were a total of 20 people. I remember first Friday’s in India – the church packed with people and the different areas of the town assigned an hour each to stay with the Lord through the night. The area that we lived in, always ended up being assigned the 11 to 12 p.m. hour. We loved it!!! It was amazingly beautiful. We sang wonderful Eucharistic hymns while sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the Blessed Sacrament. Ah! Those glorious days.

Which brings me back to what I’ve heard a lot in the 10 years I’ve been in the U.S. about people who are no longer in the Catholic Church. “I went to Catholic school and after that experience, I don’t want to think about anything Catholic” or “The church I attended had a priest who gave such bad homilies, so I left” or “I don’t think I agree with a church that has so many scandals”. On and on it goes…… it makes me snort and shake my head and go “Bah! Humbug!”. Of course, speaking out about injustices, especially in the church should be brought out in the light and fought against. However, I think we need to remember that the church is based on the teachings of Jesus. It has stood the test of time inspite of human follies and inadequacies. The people who committed crimes or went against the teachings of Jesus were not the stones that held this temple up – it was the Holy Spirit and the blood of countless matryrs and saints. The empty churches make me want to weep. When will there be a awakening? When will there be a revival?

9 months to Nativity

Holy week pushed out the Annunciation I guess, but today marks the day the Word became flesh. One “yes” and mankind was offered hope. As a mother the Annunciation has a special place in my heart. There is so much magic and anticipation while awaiting a child. What must Mary have felt when the Lord of the entire universe lay in her womb? What did she feel when the one who created every being moved inside her? What did she feel when under her palms she felt a tiny heart beat – of the one who put breath in dirt and made man. Mother Mary, help me be the mother you were by loving my family with simple grace.

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