Friends and Water

Today at Catholic masses around the world, the gospel reading from John featured Jesus and a Samaritan woman at a well.  The priest at my church gave a brief homily with a great point. A point that I think anyone—regardless of faith or with no faith at all—can relate to.

The priest referred to Jesus as befriending the woman.  With that, he then tried to relate friends and water, seeking an analogy. 

As he continued to work toward the analogy, he mentioned teaching a class to first graders and asking about what water brings.  One of the kids answered, “The gift of life.” “Very true,” said the priest in his homily.  That gave him the lead in he needed for the analogy. 

So, he turned to talking about friends.  Not a list of hundreds of friends on social media.  But dear friends who have changed our lives.  Perhaps there is no friend to whom each of us owes the gift of life, but each of us has friends who have made an impact on our lives or who have changed our lives.

That allowed the priest to encourage us to be just as thankful for those friends as we are for other gifts in our lives.  People matter.  We should acknowledge that they matter.  We should tell them that they matter.  Finally, we should work to be gifts for others as much as they are gifts to us.  Not just remotely and by emails and texts.  Rather, let friends hear us and visit when we can.  That level of friendship and the gift it brings deserves the attention that can only happen in person or in real time conversation.

These are words of wisdom that I know inspire me, and I’d hope would be inspiring to all.

New Life

A short blog entry on Easter Sunday, a day off from running.  Given where I am on the virtual pilgrimage, I would probably back track to Bloomington (especially if on an actual pilgrimage I would have support team) and go to the church of St. John the Apostle.  What better weekend to go there than one on which the Good Friday service that I attended read from St. John's Gospel and we read from John's Gospel again today.  And, as a runner, at least in John's Gospel, he outran Peter to get to the tomb first.

But I want to comment today mostly on the idea of resurrection.  New beginning.  New life.

I wrote about my own struggles with memories of the Boston Marathon bombing last week.  I told of the raw emotions when I saw the coverage last Tuesday morning.  I suspect that when the surviving Tsarnaev brother goes on trial, all the raw emotions will come out again for a lot of people.  My fellow runner who called me a mentor spoke of some pretty raw emotions last week--particularly because her mother was running Boston last year.  

Then, someone who has been helping me with a training plan mentioned yesterday in a post her own feelings about the race.  She indicated that she thought she would put it out there as a comment so that others might know they were not the only ones feeling such things.  Someone commented on her post that there would be a new set of memories after Monday's race.  

A new beginning.

A new chance.

A new life for runners who can take another step moving past last year's events.

The theme of resurrection.  

Vulnerability

Yesterday, I talked about images.  Today, I began my day with a 6 mile run.  A very easy 6 mile run.  A run that on my virtual pilgrimage would put me on Indiana Route 45 headed out of Bloomington.  The run started a lot later than usual (almost 6:30 on a weekday) as one child was away, the other two did not have to go to school, and I had gotten to sleep at around 2 last night after getting home very late.  I was operating on a little more sleep than just what I got at home as I'd slept quite a bit on the plane, but it was a fitful sleep.  Total for the year 625.4 miles.  

So, today, I worked about 5 hours at the office.  I'll still be playing catch up (and email elimination) over the weekend.  I went to two different services at church today.  My 14 year old was an altar server at the 3 PM service--Eucharist was shared but it was not a mass as it had already been blessed.  The passion was read.  One detail I don't recall ever catching before from the Gospel of St. John was that Nicodemus (whom Joseph of Arimathea teamed up with to bury Jesus) brought 100 pounds of myrrh and aloes.  I had never thought about the sheer quantity before.  Maybe not usually going to the service in the afternoon of Good Friday, I don't hear the whole passion according to John very often.

Then this evening, I went to a service at St. Pius X called Tenebrae.  It is an interesting service.  Not a priest to be found.  Run by the laity.  At our church there are seven candles in front  of a cross.  An introduction is read.  Then there are seven stories.  For the first six, we hear a biblical quote that leads into the story and we hear the story.  Then music is played.  Then a candle is extinguished.  For the seventh, the story is read.  The candle is taken slowly to the back of the church.  A loud drum is played to recall the passing of Jesus.  Then music is played and the evening ends.  

I had a chance to speak with three former parishioners whom I have known for more than a decade.  Two of the three were my oldest son's first Sunday school teachers.  The third is the daugher of one.  They have been part of our church family for 14 years--at least.  We stay in touch through social media.  We rarely get to catch up in person.  

I also had a chance to talk to the director of religious education at our parish this evening.  She has had quite a week getting ready for Easter.  Stuff comes up every year.  This year is no different.  She noted how happy she will be after the last mass on Easter Sunday.

Two of the stories caught my attention: one about personal demons and the other about the importance of the little things we do for others.  Both fit with the one other image that I didn't comment on yesterday--vulnerability.

While St. Sebastian survived the archers, he still was eventually martyred and was shot by the archers in the first place.  And in most artwork (including my tattoo) he is shown with arrows in him.  In my tattoo he is being rescued.  Irene is the strong one.  He is vulnerable.  That is an important self-image for me.

I tell happy stories on Facebook every day. But this is only the protect myself from unhappy things.  Some may say to hide from unhappy things.  

I try to maintain a positive outlook on life.  But maybe it is just because I am vulnerable to becoming downcast if I even begin to allow it to creep in.  Certainly my teenage writing reflected the more vulnerable raw emotional side of me.

Even in the various images that I saw of myself and others saw of me this week there is vulnerability in each of them.  The vulnerability of a friend facing an injury keeping her from running.  The vulnerability I have displayed on numerous occasions and the friend checking up on me when I didn't send an email about a Tuesday morning track run.  The vulnerability of sharing oneself in a mentoring relationship.  And the vulnerability of sharing with others my quest for meaning in my running.  

Then there is the vulnerability to dwelling on and never losing sight of what happened at the Boston marathon last year.  In some ways, I probably should never forget.  The vulnerability is misplacing the importance of it in my life.  That came out this week as well.  The fears and stresses of that experience are like on of my personal demons.

There are other demons--overcommitment in the workplace.  Overcommitment at home.  Things that never seem to get done.  And how each of these is not only a problem in and of itself but also plagues me as I try to move ahead.

Finally, the story of little things.  (I've gone on quite some time).  For having run as many miles as I have since the start of 2006 (probably over 5,000 in those eight years as I have run over 3,400 just since June of 2012), the number of "big moments" is quite small.  When I qualified for Boston and when I ran Boston.  When I hit sub-7 on average in a non-race half-marathon and in a separate non-race 10 miler.  And when I won a small 5K and when I ran 19:10 (putting me close to 19-even).  Thus, I can count th enumber of really big moments on my two hands.  But there are lots of small moments shared with many other runners.  Some who are faster than I am.  Some who are slower than I am.  Some with whom I am very well matched.  Sometimes it is just about being out there together.  Sometimes it is just the friendly hello.  Sometimes it is the cheering.  Sometimes it is the advice.  Sometimes it has little to do with running.  Those are the moments that count.  Those are the moments that can happen every day and make a big difference for people.

And sometimes I forget that at home the little things in the every day can be just as important.  Yes, the big things are great.  The wedding day.  The days children are born.  The house buying.  College acceptances.  Soon--graduation.  

But it is also the little things.  The going to the grocery store.  The making breakfast.  The cleaning up after myself.  The doing things for Sherry just because.

The last vulnerability I will mention tonight--the personal demon that focuses only on the big and forgets that the little things are important.  And deserve attention.  And are critical to a happy life.

Lessons from running.  Lessons from church.  Lessons for life.  

The Catholic Gospel Reading on the Feast of St. Sebastian 2013

I have commented on three of four readings for tomorrow's Catholic mass on the Feast of St. Sebastian.  Today, I will end with a comment on the Gospel.  The Gospel is the story of Jesus's first miracle in the Gospel of John, the wedding at Cana.  As a person who, here is what I take away from it:

(1) At weddings, miracles happen. It is amazing to think that two people would promise each other one year together.  It is incredible to think that two people would promise each other the rest of their lives.  Sherry and I got married at 22.  That could be 60 years--or even 70.  Through all of a partner's changes.  Opinions.  Self-expressions.  Aspirations.  And moving forward together.

(2) Our gifts should be shared.  Mary asked Jesus to share a gift when the wine at the wedding ran out.  Jesus was hesitant at first.  Then he decided to do what his mother had asked.  Part of that is respect for parents.  Part of that is sharing gifts.  I am all called to do that.  St. Sebastian found bold ways to do it.

(3) Knowing when to share our gifts.  Sometimes I think that there is a specific time for development and display of particular gifts or talents. Sometimes I think my life is on a certain path and a certain timeline.  But life rarely follows the exact path and the exact timeline I expect.  As Jesus overcame his hesitation, in some cases so must I.  Life is not on a set path.  And I must respond when at the right time even if I was not originally thinking that the time was right.  The tension between what I expect to be the right time and what actually turns out to be the right time is tricky to figure out sometimes.

Many insights from the readings on the day of the saint I have adopted as a patron saint for the last year.  Now, I hope to continue throughout the rest of this year in the process of my own development of living out the roles in which I am given the opportunity to show and share my gifts.  For my own benefit and hopefully for the benefit of others.    

Short Thought on John 6:60-69

Yesterday's Gospel reading in the Catholic church was John 6:60-69.  It is a reading that we have heard many times over again.  People complain about how hard it is to follow the way that Jesus outlined.  Then the text tells us, "As a result of this, many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him.

Even today it is not simple.  Some might say that in today's world it is even more difficult.  There are so many distractions from the way that Jesus outlined that it is even harder to follow than two thousand years ago.  More ways for a person to occupy his time and think less about others.  More ways for a person to spend his money and think less about sharing his  resources with others in a charitable way.  More ways for a person to seek to be happy instantly rather than looking over the long haul.

It seems like part of human nature to be selfish--but a part that I am being asked to overcome.  It is part of human nature to seek things sooner rather than later--but a part that I can control.  

The key to walk in the way of the Lord is to find a way to make sure that I don't lose sight.  I may get distracted.  I may take a wrong turn here or there.  I even may end up on the wrong path for a while.  But if I keep in mind what God has set as the way to live for all who follow in Jesus's path and I use that as my guide every day, I will find my fulfillment.  It is a theme I have reflected on before--giving my whole self to the purpose of my spiritual identity.  It is something I am sure I will reflect on again.  Fr. Lou (yesterday's celebrant) was neither the first nor the last celebrant whom I will hear use the phrase about walking in the way of the Lord.  But his use of it did help to make crystal clear in a simple way what the point of yesterday's reading was and gave me something to reflect on.   

My Thoughts on "I am the Bread of Life"

In the reading from the Gospel of John from the Sunday just passed (6:24-35), the last verse is one that is very well known, "I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst."  

What does that mean?

As I ponder it, I come to one conclusion.  Despite my love of physical bread and writing about physical bread last week and this week, it has nothing to do with physical bread and physical drink.

It has to do with hungering and thirsting for my true self.  My true self will come out if I come to Jesus.

My true self implies something about my priorities.

My true self implies something about what I should care about.

My true self implies something about how I should organize my life.

My true self is freedom within the context of following Jesus.

So, when I think of Jesus as the bread of life, I think of placing all my faith, all my trust, and the way that I try (key word here is try) to lead my life in the way that he would want me to.  

That doesn't mean that I can't have goals and dreams and desires that are mostly for me--take my running.  But it also means that even my running can be approached in a way that represents following Jesus.  Using it as a basis for spiritual pondering.  Using it as a way to reach out to others.  Using it as a way to show love.  Using it as a way to celebrate God's gifts to me.  

One way to think of summarizing this is that it means setting expectations in a way that is consistent with what Jesus would want.  Not what society would promote.  And if I set my expectations based on what Jesus would want and I reach those expectations then my soul will be satisfied even if it is not what society wants.  So much of whether we hunger and thirst (and more generally yearn) has to do with how we frame things.  Just in the past week, I heard a story on the radio about how bronze medalists are actually happier with the outcome than silver medalists.  Why, despite the fact that the silver medal is a higher place. Silver medalists tend to frame their experience as "not quite getting gold".  In contrast, bronze medalists tend to frame their experience as "at least I got a medal".  So, being satisfied with what a life centered on Jesus suggests (and demands) rather than what society does has so much to do with how I frame the question of my happiness.

Jesus being the bread of life means that I think about how to structure my existence and my growth (thinking of yeast-based breads and not just flat breads) in line with Jesus which sets my expectations which determines whether I will hunger and thirst.

Simplicity of John 6:24-35

The gospel reading from Sunday just past, John 6:24-35 has a lot of complex stuff in it.  Like--what does it mean that Jesus is the Bread of Life.  I'm not sure I have the answer, but I'll ponder that question tomorrow in my blog entry.  Tonight, there is just one verse from the larger reading on which I choose to focus--verse 29.  Although, I suppose to be fair, I have to include verse 28 as well--as verse 29 is a direct answer to verse 28.

In verse 28, the people ask Jesus, "What can we do to accomplish the works of God?"  In verse 29, immediately following, Jesus give the simplest of answers, "This is the work of God, that you believe in the one he sent.”

It could not get much simpler than that.  Of course, there is a critical difference between simple and easy.  It can be simple--like a child believing through a simple matter of trust (and I discussed the faith of a child with respect to last week's reading when Jesus fed thousands with the five loaves and two fish that he took from the young boy).  But being simple doesn't mean it's easy.  Taking off and putting away the things that lead to having an old self, and not a true self is simple but not easy.  Putting on the new self is simple but not easy.  Putting on the true self is not easy.  It makes us vulnerable but it makes us true and whole.  Believing in the one sent by God is a real challenge.  But if that is all there is then I know what to do and I know what I will be judged on.  

And I know that once I believe, everything else will follow.  How to treat family.  How to treat students.  How to treat friends.  How to treat neighbors.  Even how to treat enemies.  We are all children of God created in God's image.  And when I stop to remember that I have that in common with everyone around me that suggests a lot about how I should treat everyone.  If I believe in Christ--the one God sent--and I live my life as if I believe in this then I will act justly and fairly and respectfully to everyone and everything else should just fall into place.  In the same way that I feel God communicates with me just so when I need it, I think that when I follow God, everything else just sort of works itself out.  

Perhaps someday that will not be the case.  But for now, I'll take my chances and make the best of believing in the one God sent and going where that leads me.  To perform the works of God while I am here on this earth.  That will lead to true happiness.

It amazes me how few people see the simplicity here and choose to follow it.  We should be proclaiming the glory of God and the simplicity of the direction that has been given to us by Jesus himself.  Praise the Lord!

Third Thought About John 6:1-15

When I heard the readings last Sunday I knew that I would use most of my entries in my blog for the coming week to talk about about them.  And, here we are on Friday and I'm still writing about them.  Of course, part of that is because I haven't blogged every day.  But part is because of how moving the readings were.  Today is my third thought motivated by John 6:1-15.

First was, wow, God has an amazing way of nourishing my soul.

Second was the importance of repetition of themes and seeing how the repetition related to other things in life.

Today, I'll just touch on one of the parts of the story--that Philip was doubting.  There are many stories of doubt in the Bible.  Even the phrase "doubting Thomas" is based on one apostle after the resurrection.  The story of doubt in John 6:1-15 was when Philip commented on the economics of feeding the crowd.  He was very doubtful and noted more than a half year's wages would not be enough.

Then, Simon Peter (from whom I took my confirmation name--God speaking to me again), noted that a boy had five loaves and two fish. While it is not easy to tell exactly how Jesus got the loaves and fish from the boy, the key is that he did and that the boy (for whom the food likely was incredibly precious) gave up his food, trusted in Jesus, and had great faith.  The simple faith and trust of a child.

Sometimes that type of faith and trust is the best there is. That type of faith is amazing.It is a reminder to me moving forward to bring the gifts that I have to the table, to share them with the Lord and with others, and to trust that it will be enough to satisfy what God wants me to do.

Praisde God.

Doing and Seeing Things Over and Over

So, I mentioned the other day in my previous blog that the story of Elisha being presented with 20 loaves reminded me of several New Testament stories.  In fact, Fr. Sam commented on the fact that the story of needing to feed a multitude with limited resources was repeated three times in the Old Testament and numerous times in the New Testament.  He pointed out that there were always five elements of the story: (1) a holy man was presented with a crowd that was hungry; (2) someone brought him a small amount of food; (3) someone doubted that it would be sufficient; (4) the people were fed; (5) there were leftovers.

The fact that this theme was repeated multiple times reminds me of the entry in my last blog last week about the repetition and the lyrical quality of the story of Noah in the book of Genesis when I read it closely.  What is most interesting to me about that is that it is similar to interpretations of the story of creation that I have read and even the original story of creation.  Where it is always a matter of "and on this day, God did X."  Also, when you think about it the repetition of themes is actually a standard oart of fairy tales. Take Goldilocks and the Three Bears as an example.  Over and over again she did something she should not have and found that two of the three options she sampled were a problem.  Or the three little pigs.  It didn't have to be two pigs who messed up and built their houses of materials that would not withstand the test of time, but repeating the message twice helps kids learn the moral.

So, if you think about it, the fact that the holy writings of the Bible reflect the same theme over an over is sort of like a God saying to us, "Hey, did you get the memo.  If I told you once, I told you a thousand times--when people are in need of nourishment I can handle it."

And when it comes to my physical self, the connecting is that running is all about repetition.  Stride by stride.  Or on the track, half-mile by half-mile.  Sometimes just trying to hold a time.  Sometimes trying to improve a time.  But the key is that I have to be ready for and welcome repetition to enjoy training in general and track workouts specifically.  Running and training for running are all about repetition. Things that cannot be changed but that I can adapt to.

Of course, when it comes to nourishment there are even more stories than simply the holy man faced with a large crowd.

So, when all is said, and done, looking at the stories from the Bible on Sunday and thinking of how they relate to what I was pondering last week and the notion of story telling in general, it is interesting to connect the dots.  We as people need to be reminded that God can do anything. We are limited--although we are limited only by our faith in the end.  With greater faith--and taking time to "get the message" from the memos God tries to send us through the Bible, we can be better agents of change in the direction of God's will in this world.  And given how moved I feel by the words in Scripture this past Sunday and the clear linkages to other recent themes, the more amazed I am at how God communicates with me, helps me to connect the dots, and helps me to nourish my soul.

Tomorrow and Saturday, I'll comment on the relative faith of different stakeholders in the Gospel of John story and then on the letter from Paul.  By that time it will be Sunday again and time to think anew about connecting dots and nourishing my soul with my own observations and the interaction with the many amazing souls around me.