Apr 17 2008
Oh Well
In a recent homily, our priest told us we should, “look more redeemed“.
Darn. Just when I’d got my “mother-is-a-martyr-and-if-things-don’t-change-around-here-I-am-going-on-strike“ face perfected.

Apr 17 2008
In a recent homily, our priest told us we should, “look more redeemed“.
Darn. Just when I’d got my “mother-is-a-martyr-and-if-things-don’t-change-around-here-I-am-going-on-strike“ face perfected.

How art thou being martyred this week?
Would this be a good time to share that I am no longer considering locking up all clean dishes, cups, and glasses until mealtimes, and stocking us well for those 19 snacks a day at all hours around the clock with paper plates and cups?
Right, I have decided upon doing so. I am tired of mountains of dishes, mountains of words, mountains of sighs, and mountains of things gone missing because they’re upstairs in the adult kids’ rooms! ARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH.
Well.. I have to go *dustmop* now.. under the bed.
Why should I look more redeemed?
What do redeemed people look like?
Most of us know the answer to the first, but the second?
We all know people who have influenced us, people to whom we have been attracted because of the light that you’re referring to, Gabrielle.
So I suppose we need to realise that we too can shine, we can be beacons that attract others by letting our moments be sanctified- no matter how mundane or unglorified they may seem at the time.
Can any of us imagine what a joyous thing it would be if we could actually meet Jesus at Mass? We’d be all over ourselves…and Him. I don’t think there would be one person without a huge Cheshire cat grin on his or her face. And we’d all be dancing the jig…Him, too. And then, we’d bring it home with us and we’d look more redeemed to others, too.
It’s not to say we should be having a party when we go to Church, but the deadly serious posture we’ve been taught to assume is probably killing our joy, too.
Carol, the invitation still stands, you know.
It’s funny, but it’s actually Mass here that needed to become more serious. I’m now working my way into the Maronite church here (many reasons, not least of all for grandson’s greater blessing one day), and little did I know that Eastern priests and deacons and servers could be so loving, tho’ I should’ve known it from Fr. Rabbit. After Mass, one cannot escape any of them. Fr. keeps his cross in the palm of his hand so that when you take it to wish him a good day, you touch the Cross; and the Deacon and servers are there behind him, attentive to every face that approaches Fr. And if you know Fr. very well, he will hug one, or kiss one’s cheek. Perhaps it is just his personality, not indicative of all Syriac-Maronites, and perhaps it is also due to the tinyness of the church building, but he even spoke with us warmly-quietly during the homily, he really connected, and there wasn’t the slightest doubt that it was all about the Lord. I have noticed a good many folks from our old parish there. I guess I’m just trying to say that the one place I do look redeemed is at this Mass. What a God-lead.
Ann, the shining forth is supernatural, isn’t it, while the sanctification of our daily routine can begin as a practice, and then becomes a supernatural way of living; this is the way I think of it, in any case.
Pia, I would liked to have seen St. Francis at Mass.
Carol, you are indeed overwhelmed and gearing up to be even moreso, and I think you should make it a priority, and make it clear to everyone living there/visiting, that you need a certain amount of time alone every day, whether inside the house or out with nature. One of the problems may be that we don’t tell anybody what we need as lay contemplatives – if we told them we needed time to go to the gym they wouldn’t bat an eyelash, so maybe we have to be forthright in telling everybody we need time alone for prayer, and let the chips fall where they may.