May 24 2009
The Ascension
As glorious as was the Ascension, I feel a special kinship with, and grief for, the Apostles and Jesus’ disciples. If you have ever experienced a beloved pastor or spiritual director being taken out of your life, for example, and felt the pain, fear and loneliness of that loss, multiply it a gazillion times and try to imagine the depth of the emotions paralyzing Jesus’ followers as they watched Him being swept up by a cloud. Were they close to despair, I wonder. He promised to send the Comforter, the Paraclete, but in the meantime, how they must have agonized.
Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Holy Spirit.

We’ve all lost a beloved priest. It is way better to lose one to transfer than to a fall from grace, similarly to how it’s better to lose a child to the Lord’s garden than to the world’s jungle. It’s a different kind of tears, a sweet sorrow. I can hardly imagine especially the Apostles’ bafflement, but indeed, we share in the earliest Church’s pain as well as her joy.
(And I love the new look here, too.)
Carol, you raise some really key points here – the respite of the waiting period, the drawing closer to Mary, the need to serve in order to really know God. At “Consecrated to Mary” I posted on the feastday of Mary, Queen of Apostles, an excerpt from Ven. Mary of Agreda regarding how/what Mary actually taught the Apostles during the nine days in the Upper Room. And for (or near) Pentecost, I have something from Adrienne von Speyr I’m going to post, which gave me a new understanding of what the coming of the Holy Spirit actually did for the Apostles; she expresses it in a way I truly have not heard before. It is similar in a way to what you are saying here about them knowing God better, but with a little different twist.
(((Cathy))) “there is not enough space to share the memories.” Just that little phrase is enough to let me know that you know.
It’s an interesting phenomena that the older I get, the more my feelings are hurt. I thought I had deliberately left that behind years ago, but somewhere along the way, or all along the way, I embraced greater vulnerability and it is continuing. But there comes that longing to be Known (and loved anyhow). Our vulnerability works well for God and God’s, but it’s hard on this end! I only said that so you’d know why I turned to The Interior Castle one night recently after posting here (actually, I set out to look for The Fire Within, heh, literally, too), and, long story short, the book was open to the pages wherein she speaks of her pain similar to (or exactly like) your own. So, I prayed for you and for all who long for the premier Long-for-able.
I think we can also tell the difference between another’s prayer for us, and when the Lord Himself grabs us by the back of the neck like a warm chuckling uncle with a big paw of a hand, and unconditional love. I probably shouldn’t say these things publicly, lol, but you know, even the worst of the world needs a chuckling hot hand on the back of its neck.. and (to paraphrase Ghandi who paraphrased Christ whether he knew it or not), we must become in the world that which we desire the most for ourselves. That is why we desire it, really– right? Through whatever means of prayer, we become a warm hand, a saving smile, a drink of cold clean water or of justice or of empathy, bread broken to feed, and/or olive crushed for its oil.
It was as she said! I recalled that people were healed even in the very shadow of Peter, and that is where she was healed. There was no way she would miss Mass for this nonsense. If anything was more wrong than holy water could fix, it could wait an hour. (She was Irish.)