Wednesday, April 26, 2017

All we know of God (Hope, by Lisel Mueller)

   It hovers in dark corners
before the lights are turned on,
it shakes sleep from its eyes
and drops from mushroom gills,
it explodes in the starry heads
of dandelions turned sages,
it sticks to the wings of green angels
that sail from the tops of maples.
It sprouts in each occluded eye
of the many-eyed potato,
it lives in each earthworm segment
surviving cruelty,
it is the motion that runs the tail of a dog,
it is the mouth that inflates the lungs
of the child that has just been born.
It is the singular gift  
we cannot destroy in ourselves,
the argument that refutes death,
the genius that invents the future,
all we know of God.
It is the serum which makes us swear
not to betray one another;
it is in this poem, trying to speak.

--Lisel Mueller, Hope

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Random Acts of Catholics

  What could we possibly use more of in this land of beauty & abundance?  
   (How about faith?) 

     There’s no doubt we live in a bubble. Sure, it’s a stunningly beautiful bubble, with great food and impressive schools.
     But have you ever felt that residing in this rather enjoyable modern secular society makes it difficult to truly live your faith?
     Well, we have too. So we started something called Random Acts of Catholics — a fun, community-building way to activate and share our faith. And what a blessing it has been.
     Random Acts of Catholics is an apostolate of Faith, Works & Fun. We meet once a month, share faith, pray and plan an Act — something we do for others. The result so far in our first chapter in San Francisco is true Christian Community, and it is beautiful.
     If you’re interested in being a part of a chapter of RAOC at Our Lady of Mount Carmel, come to an informational meeting April 26th at 7pm in O’Brien Hall. You can also email us at RandomActsOfCatholics@gmail.com or hit our website, RandomActsOfCatholics.org.  Saint Francis of Assisi said “All the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of a single candle.”                   
So let’s be candles, people. Right here in beautiful, abundant Marin.

Image source:  Georgia O’Keeffe, Black Cross with Stars and Blue
Text source:  Parishioner Paul Venables

Unraveling the mystery (Marjorie Dobson)

It’s easy now for us to say 
we would have known that Easter Day 
that all was well, 
but those who saw his cruel cross 
found, in their devastating loss 
a living hell. 
  
It’s easy in that garden tomb 
to know that light pierced through the gloom 
and brought relief, 
but we have years of history 
unraveling the mystery 
to bring belief. 
  
It’s easy for us to forget 
disciples, feeling under threat, 
locking the door, 
but they were still then unaware 
that Christ would come to offer there, 
peace evermore. 

It’s easy for us to condemn 
Thomas, who had not been with them, 
so full of doubt, 
but if we’d missed that meeting, too, 
Thomas, we may have been with you 
and felt left out. 
  
It’s easy now with hindsight’s eye 
to let emotion pass us by 
because we know, 
but thank those folk, faced with Christ’s death, 
who then saw life take on new breath, 
so faith could grow. 

--Marjorie Dobson 
Image source:  Carl Bloch, The Doubting Thomas (1881)

Monday, April 24, 2017

Questioning and struggle (Thomas Merton)

   We too often forget that Christian faith is a principle of questioning and struggle before it becomes a principle of certitude and peace.  One has to doubt and reject everything else in order to believe firmly in Christ, and after one has begun to believe, one’s faith itself must be tested and purified.  Christianity is not merely a set of foregone conclusions. 

 --Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander (1966) 

Saturday, April 22, 2017

The place of the wound (Fr. Richard Rohr)


   The place of the wound is the place of the healing.  The place of the break is the place of the greatest strength.  That is why Jesus himself, even in his resurrected body, reappears with the wounds still in his hands, in his side, in his feet.  They do not disappear as you might expect.   
 --Fr. Richard Rohr, Sacred Wounds