As I write this it is one of those perfect Michigan summer mornings — temperature in high 70s, low humidity, sun shining and the flowers fully blooming in all their rich colors. One of the sisters with whom I live is our gardener, and she has created a most splendid banquet of myriad flowers whose colors were profuse this morning. I so needed this "chapel" within which to pray.
Contemplate This explores the deepening dimensions of silence and contemplation.
Because of my ministries I have never lived near relatives or my grade school friends as their children grew up. Recently my cousin moved to Lansing, Michigan, not too far from Detroit. One of her many grandchildren was making his first Holy Communion, and I was invited to attend. I accepted, and as I drove on this beautiful Saturday morning I found myself filling up with tears.
Many years ago I toured St. Peter's Basilica in Vatican City. I can recall climbing up to the top of the cupola and going outside on the balcony from which there is a marvelous view. As I stood there, I reflected on how impenetrable this wall was and couldn't help making the connection to how difficult it was to communicate with many of our bishops and cardinals about critical issues.
Good health is wealth, and so often we take this for granted. We rise each morning and often go through the day mechanically. Yet there are moments and incidents that take place in our life which make us think of how grateful we need to be for the Gift of Life.
Contemplate This - We live in a much-too-hasty age. There is little or no time to process what happens to us each day. This is even true in religious life.
I have to admit I am dismayed by what has been happening on the campaign trail. Primarily spurred by Mr. Trump, I witness the anger of my brothers and sisters who, over these past decades, feel that they have been left behind. But contemplation invites me to see how we are all connected. Equality, mutuality, abundance, non-violence and interconnectedness are the messages of Jesus.
Everything is in flux and there are no definitive answers to these fundamental questions at this in-between time. I once had ready replies to who I was in ministry, community, and family.
I first saw the child in the Detroit Free Press as the news was breaking regarding the Flint, Michigan, water crisis. His face wouldn't leave me. I placed his picture where I pray so I could contemplate it. Then the February 1 issue of TIME magazine had that picture on its cover. His face with the caption —The Poisoning of an American City — has become an icon to me of what happens when we forget the human connections with nature and make economics the highest priority in decision making.
I must confess that often the yearly ritual of receiving ashes on my forehead at the beginning of Lent has become dangerously routine. Certainly I pause at the solemnity of the occasion, but it has never touched me with the power that it will this year.
I am a Scrabble player — maybe even addicted to it! Playing Scrabble helps me cope with life. My usual partner is a musician who is also a mystic: this makes for a heady combination. It's a time when we don't have to be "nice" to each other: we can be competitors and just enjoy the game.