Jesuit Center on Fridays 1: Prayer Beads

my hand, my prayer beads by Wayne Stratz

And so it begins: a weekly series of images and thoughts from seven days of Silence at the Jesuit Center in Wernersvile, PA

I have never taken so many photos, and while over half have been weeded away, many remain for now in my photos. Shortly before I left for my retreat, I asked friends on Facebook, "What would you take on a silent retreat?"

"Meditation Beads," came from my friend who heads up TheSpaceForGrace. So I dug about and found these collecting dust since I made them years ago.

My friend, Deborah, would agree that to go deeper into an understanding of our faith is a call made by several spiritual masters. Ignatius called people to repeat an exercise to go deeper. For two years I have been praying my seven desires, but when I used the beads and made one complete trip for each desire, the prayer went deeper. I would apply there use again and again as the silence continued.

So thanks Deborah for a fine suggestion, which led to the first photos of the retreat.

my prayer beads by Wayne Stratz

Thoughts on my Psalm 139 reflection

Psalm 139 begins with a description of a God, who is very difficult to escape. Tracking our location, movements, thoughts, and words which we are preparing to speak. This ancient text could compare with those who speak out on the tracking of Facebook, Google, credit card companies, and the NSA.

Is God like the NSA, impossible to escape from so that we will get caught if we do wrong? Is God selling our personal info to maintain pearly gates? Is God an overly obsessed lover, who ignores any restraining order we try to place upon him?

Or maybe God wants to have a conversation with us. Ignatius was big on conversations with God and all of creation. Knowing someone greater by intimate time, leads to greater love. God just may be with us at all times so that we can become more intimate. Through prayer, spiritual direction, jazz, art, and flower gardens; I get to know God and God gets to know me.

But Psalm 139 is meaningful for me for the next line which was not part of the daily reading last Sunday.

Verse 13. You created my inmost self, knit me together in my mother's womb.

My spiritual director suggested I read psalm 139 as I entered into my first 8 day retreat. It was at a time when I was exploring how a youth filled with visits to a urologist had affected my life. For 8 days God and I wrestled with a rather poorly knit urthrethra. Not what I was expecting when I drove to the Jesuit Center, but it was a long over due conversation.

Verse 14. For so many marvels I thank you; a wonder am I, and all your works are wonders. You knew me through and through,

OK, so maybe God gave me a poorly knit urinary tract, but I got to be awed by the hands he gave me. On the 4th of July, I sent out this image asking my Facebook friends to be careful while handling fireworks.

15. my being held no secrets from you, when I was being formed in secret, textured in the depths of the earth.

God wants us to share our secrets. I told no one about those doctor visits, which began when I was four, until I was in college. God was there when I finally told my story and has been encouraging me ever since. We are called into a life of intimate relationships fueled by conversations. God would rather not miss one.

 

 

Emerging From a Comfortable Silence

I drove up to sunflowers that dazzled me Monday at noon. The eight days of silence had gone as smoothe as any retreat I had been on, it felt comfortable from beginning to end. Well, except my spiritual director kept asking me how I felt about this, that, and the other thing. But that's her job, too take me deeper into my experience.

I fully expected to come home and storm social media with a last days drive to meet my campaign to feed the hungry. And it started that way, but it just didn't feel right. And the hours are ticking by to midnight in California turns the campaign to a pumpkin on August 31.

I want to write reflections, not flood the Internet with requests for help.

Nearly 30 years ago I was walking door to door trying to spread the good message of the environment. I was OK with getting folk to listen to me, but terrible at raising money. Thus I did not get paid to do it for very long. I am pleased to having raised over $1000.00. But I am tired of asking for money.

I have made Manna on Main known to my friends. I have passed along some information about hunger. But I feel more compelled to be in my studio, in my garden, and with friends then doing a final flurry. 

I once rode my bicycle to the Catskills. I would pull into campgrounds much to the amazement of those, who had arrived in trucks pulling campers. What I remember most from the trip is the desire those new neighbors had to feed me. I was far from starving, but I was much better fed when I moved on the next morning. I did not know where I would stop, but it always turned out that I was invited to a meal.

Now I am curious how that kindness might have led to a lifetime of supporting people who feed the hungry, and to the pleasure I have inviting folk over for dinner. As I write this, I am hoping to draw more cards of thanks for those who support my goal of 21 hundred dollars. But I am ready to be content passing on these final thoughts. 

Feed the hungry.

Donate to your local food pantry.

Volunteer, they need hands as well as money.

Put a huge basket for canned goods in your church or office.

Feed the hungry.

The journey ends where it began.

This year's Watch ~ foiling and praying

I am not so hot with sitting still and so I entered my studio at 10:00 this morning. At that time seven pieces had been foiled. By 11:05, all were done.
Near the beginning I read a reflection by Fr. James Martin, SJ. It asked us to consider the human side of Jesus pondering a failure as he suffered. Had his ministry been for nothing? Where do we see ourselves failing? Some students came to mind. But no matter the journey they have taken this school year, I'll have hope for their future. Maybe that hope is what has allowed me to continue on as a special education teacher for 26 years.

I also took a break from the foiling to browse scripture, this passage from Matthew struck me ~

"Go and learn the meaning of the words: Mercy is what pleases me, not sacrifice. And indeed I came to call not the upright, but sinners."

Ironic. Sad. To come with a message of saying sacrifice is not what God wants, then to be asked to sacrifice his life. Can we be grateful? Can we experience the joy of Easter?

And surely jazz was flowing as I prayed and foiled. A few years back a friend gave me a CD, Jazz Meets Hymns by Juju Song. Wish I could have found a video of Were You There When They Crucified My Lord, but I did find this ~

May our prayers take us into deeper places.

No news is opening my heart of Hearts, a commute with Kate Campbell

this is the only video I could find of the tune that resonated with me today on my "no news during Lent" commute. She leads into the song around 2:45 into the video. It is about searching to find the love deep within us. I personally dig the idea of a rosary made of bowling balls. Of course I imagined them mosaiced by Mosaic Woman.

I don't dig absolutes... going deeper into 1 Corinthians 15:10

Last weekend I blogged about how a certain cake and the grace of God have influenced me, and in that post I placed the first words from this passage...

But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me has not been in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them—though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me. (italics are mine)

Now when speaking of science and faith and jazz, I try not to say absolutes... never, all, none, always. There is likely to be an example waiting around the corner to prove me wrong. No mammals do this... God is always... There are no fish that... Count Basie never...

None have worked harder than me... now there are some words that I could never say. I also would have a hard time with the "has not been in vain." God's gift of grace is often in vain when it comes to my life of imperfection. 20 years of unbelief, my missing years, and those moments that still fill my days.

So I can only hope for absolutes... God is always forgiving of our lost moments. Who knows?

The above photo was found on flickr when I searched for "absolutes" and is aptly called... Enigma Of The Absolute


and what music flowed through me while writing this...

7 Count Basie videos provided by elements of jazz

Going Deeper... inviting friends to dinner

Us introverts often sit silently at meetings and plan out what we want to say in our head, while the extroverts think out loud and then turn to us and say, "you have been quiet."

I have been thinking about a good friend all day and how as the rest of us have moaned about the heat and humidity, she has been living in unexpected silence. And as she follows doctor's orders and the sound of this universe does not enter inter her being, ... well try to imagine it and you will get some sense of how it feels.

I am haunted by the thought of missing music, Mosaic Woman's voice, the calls of birds, and my friends who desire to say kind things to me. I want to bring my friend joy. I did what I could when I sat next to her after church this morning, all the while feeling helpless.

A few weeks back we were going to meet up for Greek food, but the place was closed so we walked a few hundred extra steps for Thai. This morning before church I thought about my blog from last night and thought it would be cool to have this family over for Greek food.

But being with friends is painful for her and all I can think of is a goof-ass solution or two. We can eat as I do at Wernersville... silently. Or I can turn the jazz up so loud that none of us can hear each other.

For now I will go sit and pray and imagine an undesired silence and throw some of this out into the world...

Going deeper from this post