"Don’t pray when you feel like it. Have an appointment with the Lord and keep it. A man is powerful on his knees." Cornelia “Corrie” ten Boom, Dutch Christian Holocaust survivor who helped many Jews escape the Nazi’s during WWII (1892-1983)
It was 5:00 am in Krakow, Poland. As was his custom, Aaron Pokojowy arose early to begin his morning prayers. Ever since his people had been in exile, daily prayers (Avodah Sheba-Lev) had been a substitute for Temple sacrifices.
He recited a brief prayer as he rose from his bed; then another to announce his awakening to the Lord. “Like God doesn’t know I’m awake,” he mused. He liked to pray his Evening Prayer, but Morning Prayer was the best. It got him out the door on the right foot.
As he bathed Aaron recited another prayer. “I wash my body with soap and my soul with prayer,” he thought. Now came his favorite part; the three T’s (Tzitzi, Tallit and Tefillin). First he recited a blessing as he affixed the ritual fringe (tzitzi) to his prayer shawl (tallit); then a blessing while donning the prayer shawl. Finally, he took out two small leather boxes containing quotes from Hebrew scripture. In preparation, he prayed as he strapped the phylacteries or tefillin to his forehead.
Before leaving for synagogue; he spoke the Yetzer Hara: a prayer to help him overcome any evil inclination he might have during the day. Then out the door he went into the light of early morn.
It was 6:00 am in Chicago, Illinois. Sister Mary Elizabeth McNault sat in her room at the mother house of the Sisters of Mercy. A single candle illuminated the room. She was quietly reading Psalm 63: “You, God, are my God, earnestly I seek you.”
She was praying the Divine Office also called The Christian Prayer. Though Morning and Evening Prayer were required of all clergy and those in religious orders, even before she entered the convent she had “prayed the Hours” Her Uncle Harry, a priest, had taught her how to “pray the Psalms” when she was twelve.
The intercessions for the day closed with, “Give us strength in temptation, endurance in trial, and gratitude in prosperity.” “AMEN,” she thought to herself. Concluding her prayers, Sister Mary Elizabeth quickly shrugged on her coat and headed out the door. She had to get the Mission Food Pantry open and ready.
It was 5:23 am in Cairo; time to perform Salah (“formal” or “obligatory prayer” in Islam). The large speakers erupted from the minarets announcing the prayer; “God is great,” the voice repeated four times. Abraam Fayium rolled out his prayer rug and knelt down in the street facing Mecca.
This was how he communicated with God. By reciting “The Opening” or the first chapter of the Qur’an Abraam placed himself in God’s presence; praising Him, and asking for guidance along the “Straight Path.”
The prayers also reminded him to give thanks for God’s blessings. By allowing his life to revolve around Allah, Abraam could more easily submit to His will, allowing Allah to take precedence over all other things in his life.
The speakers fell silent. Abraam finished his prayer then carefully rolled up his rug, returning it to his pack. There was much to do before the next call to prayer. He had melons to sell.
Sister Mary Elizabeth’s Morning Prayer (or The Divine Office) has its origins in ancient Hebrew customs. The same custom’s which Aaron Pokojowy follows. The early Jews, in addition to Morning and Evening Prayer, recited prayers at 9:00 am, 12:00 noon and 3:00 pm.We know this from the Book of Acts.
The early Christian Church adopted this form of prayer (Morning and Evening prayer as well as three daily prayers). Its basic structure, combining Psalms, prayers, canticles and readings, has remained fairly constant throughout our history.
Islam also has five daily prayers based on the time of day as prescribed by the location of the sun. Many scholars believe Muhammad adopted the form of the Divine Office for the five daily prayers of the Islamic faith from the Christian Monastic orders in his locale.
We often publicly decry individuals who profess a “my way or the highway” mode of thinking. This "I'm always right" thinking is, quite simply, narcissism. Sadly, this very characteristic, which we dislike in individuals, we often readily buy into as a group.
Group narcissism is dangerous. We readily profess our party, our country, our culture, our race or our religion got it right and every other one else is somehow misguided or inferior.
In other words, as a group, we all agree to tell ourselves the same lie. We agree our party is always right, our race is superior, our country is better, the other gender is inferior and our God is the God.
This approach is a slippery slope. Wisdom can never come from this kind of thinking, particularly when it comes to faith. Taking this path; proving our way is the right way, implies our religion is the only one God cares about. Therefore, we are the only people God loves.
Aaron, Sr. Mary Elizabeth and Abraam all participate in daily prayers. Daily, three of the principle religions of the world kneel down together to pray…at the same times…and in much the same way. The origins of our prayers have grown out of each other.
Is it not amazing, that even with a 2,000+ year history of strife and discord we all pray together; probably without realizing it? And, we pray for the same things: for God to make each of us a better person.
As stewards of the world we are called to find God’s identity in all people and we have a good starting point in our daily prayers.
Dear God: Today I pray with all my brothers and sisters.
“Are we not all children of the same God?” Blessed Pope John Paul II (1920-2005)
© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given, the ”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Thursday, August 4, 2011
An Unlisted Number
“My friends? The left ones think I’m right and the right ones think I was left behind.” ~Author unknown
In the News:
“Vice President Joe Biden joined House Democrats in lashing tea party Republicans Monday, accusing them of having “acted like terrorists” in the fight over raising the nation’s debt limit, according to several sources in the room.” (Jonathon Allen & John Bresnahan from Polictico.com)
“He didn’t call tea partiers terrorists – just crazy people who wanted to detonate a nuclear weapon. See? Completely different!” (Jim Geraghty from National Review Online)
“Bachmann, a GOP presidential candidate, and Palin, a potential candidate, each reacted with outrage at a report that Biden, at a closed-door meeting with Democrats yesterday on Capitol Hill, said that Tea Party Republicans had “acted like terrorists” in negotiations over a debt-ceiling compromise.” (The Hill.com)
“Senator Charles Schumer (D-NY), in a shocking and world-shaking allegation, has accused the Republican Party of malevolently attempting to undermine the United States in an attempt to hurt President Barack Obama in the 2012 general elections.” (America’s Economic Report Daily)
…and so it goes.
There is a certain entertainment value in politics – to a point. Beyond that, one has to become concerned at the verbal grenades which are so casually lobbed between various groups. Setting aside that there might be “organizations” that deserve their reputations (such as the KKK) the danger is that we begin stereotyping one another based on labels such as Democrat, Republican, Conservative, Liberal, etc. We abhor racial profiling; but when it comes to political profiling, it is open season.
There is, however, another side to this issue. It is an incredible irony in our American society today. We Americans are rugged individualists. We want to be our own person and we resist being labeled by others. And yet, we seem to readily adopt certain labels, choose to live by them, and defend them ardently.
Why do we allow our lives to be conditioned by these labels?
Is it possible these “categories” are nothing more than a shortcut – a way of making our belief systems more efficient or more convenient? “I am a liberal therefore I am pro-choice, pro-same sex marriage and anti-war”? Or, “I am a conservative therefore I am pro-life, pro-war and anti-same sex marriages”?
Much as we profess to be open-minded, we seem quite willing to take on the biases of our own particular group.
So I ask you: Was Jesus a Conservative or a Liberal? In point of fact, he was neither. At times he was very conservative; and at others, very liberal. Regardless of the situation – whether it be talking to “forbidden” women, dining with the “unwashed,” throwing moneychangers out of the temple, or being bathed in expensive oil – the one constant is that Jesus defies being labeled.
His response to every situation is often surprising, sometimes shocking, and always appropriate. (Note: Those who defined themselves by their labels such as the Pharisees, the Sadducees, and the Temple Elders found Jesus’ actions very inappropriate.)
Moreover, in Scripture, when people remove their labels and break out of their categories, great things begin to happen. A Samaritan man interrupts his journey, walks across the road, and cares for a beaten and dying religious enemy. Zacchaeus, a tax collector, comes down from his tree and gives back all the money he has swindled, four times over. A woman at a well, of perhaps dubious character, leaves her jar behind and goes to town to share the good news. Saul, who dedicated his life to persecuting Christians, has an encounter on the road, and becomes St. Paul, one of the greatest Apostles of all time.
There are also those who can’t leave the label behind. When Jesus challenges the rich young man to change his life – to prove that God is more important than money, power and prestige – the young man can’t change, and goes away sad.
The great Christian writer, Fr. Ronald Rolheiser once instructed his listeners to “always have an unlisted number.” In other words, don’t allow your actions to make you easily labeled. Don’t succumb to the stereotypes.
As good stewards of our time, we are called to give consideration to all points of view, even when it is uncomfortable. We are called to be boundary breakers, to cross lines, to listen to and hear the other voices in the world. To make decisions and choices based on consideration and contemplation, not simply the party line.
We are called to live out our beliefs, not live up to our label.
Dear God: Teach me to encounter life on a “case by case” basis.
“There are a lot of stereotypes to be broken which I think a lot of us are doing. What I do is, as soon as people try to pin me down to one kind of part, I'll play a very different kind of role, so it explodes that stereotype.” ~Joan Chen, Chinese American actress, director, screenwriter and film producer (b1961)
© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given, the ”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
In the News:
“Vice President Joe Biden joined House Democrats in lashing tea party Republicans Monday, accusing them of having “acted like terrorists” in the fight over raising the nation’s debt limit, according to several sources in the room.” (Jonathon Allen & John Bresnahan from Polictico.com)
“He didn’t call tea partiers terrorists – just crazy people who wanted to detonate a nuclear weapon. See? Completely different!” (Jim Geraghty from National Review Online)
“Bachmann, a GOP presidential candidate, and Palin, a potential candidate, each reacted with outrage at a report that Biden, at a closed-door meeting with Democrats yesterday on Capitol Hill, said that Tea Party Republicans had “acted like terrorists” in negotiations over a debt-ceiling compromise.” (The Hill.com)
“Senator Charles Schumer (D-NY), in a shocking and world-shaking allegation, has accused the Republican Party of malevolently attempting to undermine the United States in an attempt to hurt President Barack Obama in the 2012 general elections.” (America’s Economic Report Daily)
…and so it goes.
There is a certain entertainment value in politics – to a point. Beyond that, one has to become concerned at the verbal grenades which are so casually lobbed between various groups. Setting aside that there might be “organizations” that deserve their reputations (such as the KKK) the danger is that we begin stereotyping one another based on labels such as Democrat, Republican, Conservative, Liberal, etc. We abhor racial profiling; but when it comes to political profiling, it is open season.
There is, however, another side to this issue. It is an incredible irony in our American society today. We Americans are rugged individualists. We want to be our own person and we resist being labeled by others. And yet, we seem to readily adopt certain labels, choose to live by them, and defend them ardently.
Why do we allow our lives to be conditioned by these labels?
Is it possible these “categories” are nothing more than a shortcut – a way of making our belief systems more efficient or more convenient? “I am a liberal therefore I am pro-choice, pro-same sex marriage and anti-war”? Or, “I am a conservative therefore I am pro-life, pro-war and anti-same sex marriages”?
Much as we profess to be open-minded, we seem quite willing to take on the biases of our own particular group.
So I ask you: Was Jesus a Conservative or a Liberal? In point of fact, he was neither. At times he was very conservative; and at others, very liberal. Regardless of the situation – whether it be talking to “forbidden” women, dining with the “unwashed,” throwing moneychangers out of the temple, or being bathed in expensive oil – the one constant is that Jesus defies being labeled.
His response to every situation is often surprising, sometimes shocking, and always appropriate. (Note: Those who defined themselves by their labels such as the Pharisees, the Sadducees, and the Temple Elders found Jesus’ actions very inappropriate.)
Moreover, in Scripture, when people remove their labels and break out of their categories, great things begin to happen. A Samaritan man interrupts his journey, walks across the road, and cares for a beaten and dying religious enemy. Zacchaeus, a tax collector, comes down from his tree and gives back all the money he has swindled, four times over. A woman at a well, of perhaps dubious character, leaves her jar behind and goes to town to share the good news. Saul, who dedicated his life to persecuting Christians, has an encounter on the road, and becomes St. Paul, one of the greatest Apostles of all time.
There are also those who can’t leave the label behind. When Jesus challenges the rich young man to change his life – to prove that God is more important than money, power and prestige – the young man can’t change, and goes away sad.
The great Christian writer, Fr. Ronald Rolheiser once instructed his listeners to “always have an unlisted number.” In other words, don’t allow your actions to make you easily labeled. Don’t succumb to the stereotypes.
As good stewards of our time, we are called to give consideration to all points of view, even when it is uncomfortable. We are called to be boundary breakers, to cross lines, to listen to and hear the other voices in the world. To make decisions and choices based on consideration and contemplation, not simply the party line.
We are called to live out our beliefs, not live up to our label.
Dear God: Teach me to encounter life on a “case by case” basis.
“There are a lot of stereotypes to be broken which I think a lot of us are doing. What I do is, as soon as people try to pin me down to one kind of part, I'll play a very different kind of role, so it explodes that stereotype.” ~Joan Chen, Chinese American actress, director, screenwriter and film producer (b1961)
© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given, the ”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Running Interference
“The whole idea of compassion is based on a keen awareness of the interdependence of all these living beings, which are all part of one another, and all involved in one another.” ~ Thomas Merton, Trappist monk, American Catholic writer (1915-1968).
We turned and started up the stairs toward the entrance. To our right were several international warning signs (no smoking, quiet please, etc.) The most prominent and most repeated was a picture of a camera with a red circle around it and a red line through it. Clearly photography was not going to be permitted.
At the top of the stairs was a guard. Rhythmically, in a heavily accented voice, he repeated the same warning, “no pictures.” Dutifully, I quickly stepped aside and took a moment to shove my Canon Rebel, lens and all, into the specially padded knapsack I carried.
Stepping back in line I held up the bag displaying it to the guard. To my surprise, he smiled briefly and gave me a “thumbs up” sign. We turned to our right and headed into one of the most beautiful and inspired rooms in the world – the Sistine Chapel. The Chapel (named for Pope Sixtus IV) is famous for its architecture and its frescos painted by the likes of Michelangelo, Botticelli, Perugino and Pinturicchio.
The room was packed with people, shoulder to shoulder, staring in all directions. Three guards stood on the raised portion of the floor where the altar was located, watching the crowd carefully. Periodically one would speak a single word, “Silenzio,” at which the crowd would quiet to a murmur. This was randomly interspersed with another phrase, “No pictures!”
We were admiring Michelangelo’s “The Last Judgment” on the main wall when a flash of light erupted to our immediate left. In an instant one of the guards descended on a group of three young women, barely 10 feet from us. “Did you not hear us tell you no pictures?” the guard scolded in a stern voice. “What does it take to make you understand?” Two of them looked at the floor, but one, the offending camera still in her hand, began to flush. “Please don’t cause me to have to make you leave,” the guard continued.
Finally, the girl glared at the guard. “You can’t make us leave,” she responded. Her accent was distinctly American and definitely urban. “We paid to be here.” “You can’t make us leave,” she repeated. “We’ve got rights ya know!”
Teresa and I stared at each other trying not to chuckle. Did she just say that? Really?? The Sistine Chapel is located in Vatican City which is a country unto itself. Essentially, when you’re there, like any foreign country, you play by their rules. They can do whatever they deem appropriate.
The guard seemed to suppress a smile, perhaps recognizing the naiveté in the woman’s comment. He stared back at her for a moment. Then, with a sweeping gesture of his right arm, palm open he motioned toward the exit. “Please, per favore, this way.” He said this almost sympathetically, as if to a child who had just been scolded. Without a word of protestation from any of them, he led them to the nearest exit and watched as they left.
The guard returned to his station shaking his head. Immediately the sound level began to rise. “Silenzio,” came the voice of another guard. This time, the room fell into near perfect silence.
We live in arguably the most desirable country in the world. After wresting itself from the monarchial rule of England, the United States of America developed its own form of democracy, with a legal system to match. Having fought tirelessly for our independence, we set about to assure we would not be “interfered with” again. One of our early flags bears the simple phrase, “Don’t Tread on Me.”
For the most part, the laws of our democracy are constructed to provide us with protection from the interference of others. As an individual this means, “I should be able to do what I want, provided I don’t harm (or interfere with) anyone else.”
How often have we heard this phrase used as an argument in favor of legalizing some activity or something? “I’m not hurting anyone, so what’s the harm in my doing what I want to do?” I have little doubt the same reasoning was at work that day in the Sistine Chapel. “If I take a picture, it’s not hurting anyone.” “In fact, it’s my right. After all, I paid to be here.” Is it any wonder Americans have the reputation for being the staunch individualists of the world?
And, while we like to think our Christian values play well with the laws of the land, there are distinct contrasts between the two. Our individualism calls us to stay out of each other’s way, while our Christian values call us to get involved and to sometimes intervene where necessary.
Jesus was often accused of interfering with the smooth operation of the “status quo.” His ministry was one of intervention; intervening when others were in need. In fact, he describes the difference between those who will enter the kingdom and those who won’t as being those who get involved and care for others as opposed to those who don’t. He doesn’t mention following the rules or a policy of non-interference (Matthew 25).
As modern-day Christians, we are called to intervene at times. We are called to intervene in the cycle of poverty, we are called to intervene in the rising rate of homelessness, and we are called to intervene until all are educated and have adequate medical coverage. We are called to intervene wherever inequities exist.
We are called to be interventionists and to be agents of positive change. Wherever there is inequity between the poor and the rich, the underprivileged and the privileged, the uneducated and the educated, or the marginalized and the mainstream, those of us who profess to be Christian should be at work balancing the scales. It is not an easy task and it is often unpopular. Is it any wonder there have been so many Christian martyrs (45.5 million in the 20th century alone)?
We are blessed to live in a country of great freedom, but with great freedom comes great responsibility. We are not called to go our own way and stay out of the way. We are called to follow the way Jesus modeled for us – involving ourselves in the world, leaving it better than we found it.
Dear God, who needs my help today?
“He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it. He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it.” ~Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., African-American clergyman, activist and leader in the American Civil Rights Movement (1929-1968)
© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given, the ”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
We turned and started up the stairs toward the entrance. To our right were several international warning signs (no smoking, quiet please, etc.) The most prominent and most repeated was a picture of a camera with a red circle around it and a red line through it. Clearly photography was not going to be permitted.
At the top of the stairs was a guard. Rhythmically, in a heavily accented voice, he repeated the same warning, “no pictures.” Dutifully, I quickly stepped aside and took a moment to shove my Canon Rebel, lens and all, into the specially padded knapsack I carried.
Stepping back in line I held up the bag displaying it to the guard. To my surprise, he smiled briefly and gave me a “thumbs up” sign. We turned to our right and headed into one of the most beautiful and inspired rooms in the world – the Sistine Chapel. The Chapel (named for Pope Sixtus IV) is famous for its architecture and its frescos painted by the likes of Michelangelo, Botticelli, Perugino and Pinturicchio.
The room was packed with people, shoulder to shoulder, staring in all directions. Three guards stood on the raised portion of the floor where the altar was located, watching the crowd carefully. Periodically one would speak a single word, “Silenzio,” at which the crowd would quiet to a murmur. This was randomly interspersed with another phrase, “No pictures!”
We were admiring Michelangelo’s “The Last Judgment” on the main wall when a flash of light erupted to our immediate left. In an instant one of the guards descended on a group of three young women, barely 10 feet from us. “Did you not hear us tell you no pictures?” the guard scolded in a stern voice. “What does it take to make you understand?” Two of them looked at the floor, but one, the offending camera still in her hand, began to flush. “Please don’t cause me to have to make you leave,” the guard continued.
Finally, the girl glared at the guard. “You can’t make us leave,” she responded. Her accent was distinctly American and definitely urban. “We paid to be here.” “You can’t make us leave,” she repeated. “We’ve got rights ya know!”
Teresa and I stared at each other trying not to chuckle. Did she just say that? Really?? The Sistine Chapel is located in Vatican City which is a country unto itself. Essentially, when you’re there, like any foreign country, you play by their rules. They can do whatever they deem appropriate.
The guard seemed to suppress a smile, perhaps recognizing the naiveté in the woman’s comment. He stared back at her for a moment. Then, with a sweeping gesture of his right arm, palm open he motioned toward the exit. “Please, per favore, this way.” He said this almost sympathetically, as if to a child who had just been scolded. Without a word of protestation from any of them, he led them to the nearest exit and watched as they left.
The guard returned to his station shaking his head. Immediately the sound level began to rise. “Silenzio,” came the voice of another guard. This time, the room fell into near perfect silence.
We live in arguably the most desirable country in the world. After wresting itself from the monarchial rule of England, the United States of America developed its own form of democracy, with a legal system to match. Having fought tirelessly for our independence, we set about to assure we would not be “interfered with” again. One of our early flags bears the simple phrase, “Don’t Tread on Me.”
For the most part, the laws of our democracy are constructed to provide us with protection from the interference of others. As an individual this means, “I should be able to do what I want, provided I don’t harm (or interfere with) anyone else.”
How often have we heard this phrase used as an argument in favor of legalizing some activity or something? “I’m not hurting anyone, so what’s the harm in my doing what I want to do?” I have little doubt the same reasoning was at work that day in the Sistine Chapel. “If I take a picture, it’s not hurting anyone.” “In fact, it’s my right. After all, I paid to be here.” Is it any wonder Americans have the reputation for being the staunch individualists of the world?
And, while we like to think our Christian values play well with the laws of the land, there are distinct contrasts between the two. Our individualism calls us to stay out of each other’s way, while our Christian values call us to get involved and to sometimes intervene where necessary.
Jesus was often accused of interfering with the smooth operation of the “status quo.” His ministry was one of intervention; intervening when others were in need. In fact, he describes the difference between those who will enter the kingdom and those who won’t as being those who get involved and care for others as opposed to those who don’t. He doesn’t mention following the rules or a policy of non-interference (Matthew 25).
As modern-day Christians, we are called to intervene at times. We are called to intervene in the cycle of poverty, we are called to intervene in the rising rate of homelessness, and we are called to intervene until all are educated and have adequate medical coverage. We are called to intervene wherever inequities exist.
We are called to be interventionists and to be agents of positive change. Wherever there is inequity between the poor and the rich, the underprivileged and the privileged, the uneducated and the educated, or the marginalized and the mainstream, those of us who profess to be Christian should be at work balancing the scales. It is not an easy task and it is often unpopular. Is it any wonder there have been so many Christian martyrs (45.5 million in the 20th century alone)?
We are blessed to live in a country of great freedom, but with great freedom comes great responsibility. We are not called to go our own way and stay out of the way. We are called to follow the way Jesus modeled for us – involving ourselves in the world, leaving it better than we found it.
Dear God, who needs my help today?
“He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it. He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it.” ~Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., African-American clergyman, activist and leader in the American Civil Rights Movement (1929-1968)
© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given, the ”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Reconcilable Differences
“I know there is strength in the differences between us. I know there is comfort where we overlap.” ~Ani DiFranco, American singer, song writer and guitarist (b. 1970)
We walked up the jet-way and into the terminal in Frankfort, Germany only to be greeted by a line. Anyone who travels by air knows lines are to be expected in airports: Ticket lines, security lines, even lines for the bathrooms. This line was different. Normally one walks out of the plane into the concourse and then on to the restrooms, the next departure gate or baggage claim area before encountering the next “line”. This line however, was smack dab in the middle of the concourse.
Standing on tip toe I could see the line bent to the left, terminating at a group of three, very official looking, glass boxes. Inside each was a very official looking immigration agent, dressed in a starched, button down shirt, replete with epaulets and brass buttons. All three agents sat bolt upright in their swivel chairs.
Never underestimate the Germans when it comes to formality.
Though the line was long it moved with smooth swiftness and efficiency separating into three smaller lines as we approached the glass cells. Finally, it was our turn. Teresa and I dutifully handed over our passports, already opened to the page with our picture. The agent smiled briefly when I greeted him in German, but without breaking stride, he rhythmically scanned the documents, compared our pictures to our faces and summarily stamping each one. “Have a safe trip,” he said stolidly.
Never underestimate the Germans when it comes to efficiency either.
To our surprise, our departure gate was only short walk past the security barrier we had just negotiated. In fact, we never left the concourse in which we had arrived. “What was that all about,” we wondered?
Three hours later we found ourselves “boots on the ground” in Leonardo De Vinci airport in Rome… standing in another line. This time, however, we were waiting for our luggage. The Tour Director, Luigi (no joke, his name was Luigi), had greeted us as we entered the baggage claim area. “Itsa gonna take a little time for your bags to come,” he had said. “You’re in Italia now.”
We were not quite sure what his inference meant, but he was right. The bags were slow in coming and when they did finally appear, it was only a few at a time. With agonizing slowness they came. Plop…plop…plop. They slid from an opening above down onto the slow moving conveyor.
“We still have to get through customs and immigration,” I muttered under my breath to Teresa. The three bags we checked arrived on the conveyor one at a time…four to five minutes apart.
Finally, with all our luggage in hand, we headed for the exit doors. Our passports in hand we were prepared to show them to the Italian immigration officials. Clearing the doorways we turned to our right and headed up a wide ramp. To our surprise we were in the main part of the terminal; no guards, no gates, no nada. Confused we stopped.
“Is something a wrong?” came Luigi’s voice from behind us. “We were expecting an immigration check point,” I explained still looking around. “There’s a no check point.” When you came through Frankfort the Germans did that for us.” “We have, how you say, an arrangement,” he said with a smile.
Tucking our passports in our jackets and adjusting our luggage we followed Luigi the rest of the way up the ramp. “I don’t lika their food, but when it comes to security the Germans are primo,” Luigi exclaimed, as we headed for the exterior doors and the busses waiting outside.
“Birds of a feather flock together.”
It is true, most of us tend to affiliate with those who are much like us; those who share our tastes, our interests, our personality type, and most importantly, our world view. In doing so it provides us with a certain comfort level. It minimizes conflict and, since everyone with whom we associate agrees with us, it gives us surety we are right about most things. They give us a comfort level because they seem to affirm the way we are, is the way we should be, and everyone else should be.
This provides us with a false sense of stability in our lives. But, because a boat is not rocking, it doesn’t mean that it’s not sinking. God made us different and gifted us differently for a reason.
The people we need in our lives are often those who are unlike us in some ways. Those who are gifted differently do not appear in our lives to identify our short comings. Rather, they are there to provide us with additional strengths…strengths we don’t personally possess. Because they see the world differently they provide us with a kind of communal peripheral vision.
Rather than hiding amidst a crowd of sameness, we need to surround ourselves with the people who are good at the things we are not. Who see the world much differently than we do. The Germans may thrive on security and organization, but they are sometimes a bit too serious. The Italians may be passionate, with a wonderful cuisine yet can be somewhat disorganized at times. Though their cultures are very different by working together they filled in the gaps for one another.
Birds of a feather may flock together, but it doesn’t mean, in so doing, they are productive...just comfortable. Different gifts serve different purposes.
There is a strong message here for those of us who work with ministries, councils, committees or boards. Our tendency is to work toward gaining consensus. The easiest way to do so is to have a committee filled with members who all think alike. Such an approach is a recipe for failure, or at best, mediocrity. (A recipe with one ingredient isn’t a very good recipe.)
Leaders need followers, planners need implementers, and dreamers need pragmatists. We all need complementary personalities in our lives to make us whole even when it comes to spouses.
We are called to seek out those, not who are like us, but those who are unlike us…who have gifts we don’t. Who see the world differently. Whether we are talking about countries, committees or even courtship we must look for those who complete us. It is not a matter of being right or wrong; it is a matter of blending the different gifts God has given each of us.
Dear God: Teach me to embrace the differences in others so that together we may be whole.
“Much of the vitality in a friendship lies in the honoring of differences, not simply in the enjoyment of similarities.” ~ Father James Fredericks, PhD., Associate Professor, Loyola Marymount University
© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the ”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
We walked up the jet-way and into the terminal in Frankfort, Germany only to be greeted by a line. Anyone who travels by air knows lines are to be expected in airports: Ticket lines, security lines, even lines for the bathrooms. This line was different. Normally one walks out of the plane into the concourse and then on to the restrooms, the next departure gate or baggage claim area before encountering the next “line”. This line however, was smack dab in the middle of the concourse.
Standing on tip toe I could see the line bent to the left, terminating at a group of three, very official looking, glass boxes. Inside each was a very official looking immigration agent, dressed in a starched, button down shirt, replete with epaulets and brass buttons. All three agents sat bolt upright in their swivel chairs.
Never underestimate the Germans when it comes to formality.
Though the line was long it moved with smooth swiftness and efficiency separating into three smaller lines as we approached the glass cells. Finally, it was our turn. Teresa and I dutifully handed over our passports, already opened to the page with our picture. The agent smiled briefly when I greeted him in German, but without breaking stride, he rhythmically scanned the documents, compared our pictures to our faces and summarily stamping each one. “Have a safe trip,” he said stolidly.
Never underestimate the Germans when it comes to efficiency either.
To our surprise, our departure gate was only short walk past the security barrier we had just negotiated. In fact, we never left the concourse in which we had arrived. “What was that all about,” we wondered?
Three hours later we found ourselves “boots on the ground” in Leonardo De Vinci airport in Rome… standing in another line. This time, however, we were waiting for our luggage. The Tour Director, Luigi (no joke, his name was Luigi), had greeted us as we entered the baggage claim area. “Itsa gonna take a little time for your bags to come,” he had said. “You’re in Italia now.”
We were not quite sure what his inference meant, but he was right. The bags were slow in coming and when they did finally appear, it was only a few at a time. With agonizing slowness they came. Plop…plop…plop. They slid from an opening above down onto the slow moving conveyor.
“We still have to get through customs and immigration,” I muttered under my breath to Teresa. The three bags we checked arrived on the conveyor one at a time…four to five minutes apart.
Finally, with all our luggage in hand, we headed for the exit doors. Our passports in hand we were prepared to show them to the Italian immigration officials. Clearing the doorways we turned to our right and headed up a wide ramp. To our surprise we were in the main part of the terminal; no guards, no gates, no nada. Confused we stopped.
“Is something a wrong?” came Luigi’s voice from behind us. “We were expecting an immigration check point,” I explained still looking around. “There’s a no check point.” When you came through Frankfort the Germans did that for us.” “We have, how you say, an arrangement,” he said with a smile.
Tucking our passports in our jackets and adjusting our luggage we followed Luigi the rest of the way up the ramp. “I don’t lika their food, but when it comes to security the Germans are primo,” Luigi exclaimed, as we headed for the exterior doors and the busses waiting outside.
“Birds of a feather flock together.”
It is true, most of us tend to affiliate with those who are much like us; those who share our tastes, our interests, our personality type, and most importantly, our world view. In doing so it provides us with a certain comfort level. It minimizes conflict and, since everyone with whom we associate agrees with us, it gives us surety we are right about most things. They give us a comfort level because they seem to affirm the way we are, is the way we should be, and everyone else should be.
This provides us with a false sense of stability in our lives. But, because a boat is not rocking, it doesn’t mean that it’s not sinking. God made us different and gifted us differently for a reason.
The people we need in our lives are often those who are unlike us in some ways. Those who are gifted differently do not appear in our lives to identify our short comings. Rather, they are there to provide us with additional strengths…strengths we don’t personally possess. Because they see the world differently they provide us with a kind of communal peripheral vision.
Rather than hiding amidst a crowd of sameness, we need to surround ourselves with the people who are good at the things we are not. Who see the world much differently than we do. The Germans may thrive on security and organization, but they are sometimes a bit too serious. The Italians may be passionate, with a wonderful cuisine yet can be somewhat disorganized at times. Though their cultures are very different by working together they filled in the gaps for one another.
Birds of a feather may flock together, but it doesn’t mean, in so doing, they are productive...just comfortable. Different gifts serve different purposes.
There is a strong message here for those of us who work with ministries, councils, committees or boards. Our tendency is to work toward gaining consensus. The easiest way to do so is to have a committee filled with members who all think alike. Such an approach is a recipe for failure, or at best, mediocrity. (A recipe with one ingredient isn’t a very good recipe.)
Leaders need followers, planners need implementers, and dreamers need pragmatists. We all need complementary personalities in our lives to make us whole even when it comes to spouses.
We are called to seek out those, not who are like us, but those who are unlike us…who have gifts we don’t. Who see the world differently. Whether we are talking about countries, committees or even courtship we must look for those who complete us. It is not a matter of being right or wrong; it is a matter of blending the different gifts God has given each of us.
Dear God: Teach me to embrace the differences in others so that together we may be whole.
“Much of the vitality in a friendship lies in the honoring of differences, not simply in the enjoyment of similarities.” ~ Father James Fredericks, PhD., Associate Professor, Loyola Marymount University
© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the ”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Be Prepared
“Do not go gentle into that good night. Old age should burn and rage at close of day.” ~ Dylan Thomas, Welsh poet & writer (1915-1953)
Her eyes danced with enthusiasm beneath her wire-rimmed spectacles. The glasses bespoke a person much older than the one with whom I was conversing. Everything about her seemed incongruous. Quick, elegant gestures were out of sync with her drapery-like clothes. The articulate animated conversation sounded like it should be coming from the CEO of the latest tech company, not the willowy figure before me.
I tried to focus on the conversation, but I couldn’t help being bemused by the image of the person in contrast to the way in which she presented herself. Her dazzling white starched head piece, high collar coupled with the long brown habit of a Carmelite Sister had me a bit off balance. When she spoke however, she spoke with such enthusiasm and conviction I could not help but listen.
We were standing in the garden of a reception villa on the outskirts of Rome. Archbishop José Gomez had been honored at a Mass in St Peter’s Basilica that morning, and now our group of over 300 was celebrating. Mother Regina Marie, the Mother General of the Carmelite Sisters of the Most Sacred Heart, had engaged me in conversation regarding her Order’s latest project. The Carmelite Sisters run care facilities such as Marycrest Manor and Santa Teresita in Alhambra, California. They were building more units to house those for whom they care.
“We care for people during the most important part of their life,” she continued. For a moment I remembered my High School graduation. Our Superintendent of schools had made a similar comment in his commencement address. “These years are the most important years of your lives,” he had said with conviction.
Such a statement might have been wasted on a group of adolescent teenagers, but spoken in reference to an age group, many of which were in skilled nursing, palliative or hospice care, seemed as incongruous as the person in front of me.
“Sister, I’m not doubting you, but how could the years or months spent at the end of life, probably in declining health and being cared for most of the time, be the best years of anyone’s life?” “Essentially, we’re spending it preparing to die.”
“Exactly!” she exclaimed, gesturing with a pointed finger. “What could be more important than the time we spend preparing to meet God?” Her logic was unassailable.
“To every CEO, business owner or project manager I have ever met I have put the same question: when are you most attentive to a project, a new product or a new campaign; and they always have the same answer: ‘Right at the very end!’ Just before it launches, is rolled out, or goes into production!”
At this point she had me hooked; I couldn’t help but listen. “How is what I do any different? The people I care for are at the end of the project we call life. I need to help them ‘finish their project!’”
The call to dinner came unexpectedly. We quickly exchanged business cards and bid each other goodbye, promising to reconnect. “I must go,” she said with a smile. “I’m supposed to sit with the Cardinal.” She disappeared in a rustle of dark brown cloth and starched white linen.
The great spiritualist, St. Ignatius, once quipped that “All life is a preparation for death.” To us, members of the 21st century world, there seems to be a kind of morbidity in this thinking. We think we should be living life “to its fullest” rather than spending it preparing for death. To us death is a terminus rather than a point of departure.
Perhaps therein lies the problem. We spend our lives trying to build a successful life rather than preparing for a successful death. Struggling to survive each of a succession of days, we ignore the journey to our next “jumping off” point.
When we leave on a long trip, we take care to make sure we are well prepared and the things we leave behind are cared for (our house, our pets, perhaps even an elderly relative for which we are responsible). We put time and effort into those preparations to assure “the trip” is everything we hope for. If we take this much time preparing for a trip of a few weeks duration, how much more carefully should we prepare for our trip into the afterlife?
Each day we would do well to ask ourselves Mother Regina Marie's question: “What could be more important than the time we spend preparing to meet God?”
Dear God: What can I do today to prepare for my death?
“Death, when it approaches, ought not to take one by surprise. It should be part of the full expectancy of life. Without an ever- present sense of death life is insipid.” ~Muriel Spark, award winning Scottish novelist (1918-2006)
*Special thanks to the Mother General, Mother Regina Marie O.C.D. and the Carmelite Sisters of the Most Sacred Heart
© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the ”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
Her eyes danced with enthusiasm beneath her wire-rimmed spectacles. The glasses bespoke a person much older than the one with whom I was conversing. Everything about her seemed incongruous. Quick, elegant gestures were out of sync with her drapery-like clothes. The articulate animated conversation sounded like it should be coming from the CEO of the latest tech company, not the willowy figure before me.
I tried to focus on the conversation, but I couldn’t help being bemused by the image of the person in contrast to the way in which she presented herself. Her dazzling white starched head piece, high collar coupled with the long brown habit of a Carmelite Sister had me a bit off balance. When she spoke however, she spoke with such enthusiasm and conviction I could not help but listen.
We were standing in the garden of a reception villa on the outskirts of Rome. Archbishop José Gomez had been honored at a Mass in St Peter’s Basilica that morning, and now our group of over 300 was celebrating. Mother Regina Marie, the Mother General of the Carmelite Sisters of the Most Sacred Heart, had engaged me in conversation regarding her Order’s latest project. The Carmelite Sisters run care facilities such as Marycrest Manor and Santa Teresita in Alhambra, California. They were building more units to house those for whom they care.
“We care for people during the most important part of their life,” she continued. For a moment I remembered my High School graduation. Our Superintendent of schools had made a similar comment in his commencement address. “These years are the most important years of your lives,” he had said with conviction.
Such a statement might have been wasted on a group of adolescent teenagers, but spoken in reference to an age group, many of which were in skilled nursing, palliative or hospice care, seemed as incongruous as the person in front of me.
“Sister, I’m not doubting you, but how could the years or months spent at the end of life, probably in declining health and being cared for most of the time, be the best years of anyone’s life?” “Essentially, we’re spending it preparing to die.”
“Exactly!” she exclaimed, gesturing with a pointed finger. “What could be more important than the time we spend preparing to meet God?” Her logic was unassailable.
“To every CEO, business owner or project manager I have ever met I have put the same question: when are you most attentive to a project, a new product or a new campaign; and they always have the same answer: ‘Right at the very end!’ Just before it launches, is rolled out, or goes into production!”
At this point she had me hooked; I couldn’t help but listen. “How is what I do any different? The people I care for are at the end of the project we call life. I need to help them ‘finish their project!’”
The call to dinner came unexpectedly. We quickly exchanged business cards and bid each other goodbye, promising to reconnect. “I must go,” she said with a smile. “I’m supposed to sit with the Cardinal.” She disappeared in a rustle of dark brown cloth and starched white linen.
The great spiritualist, St. Ignatius, once quipped that “All life is a preparation for death.” To us, members of the 21st century world, there seems to be a kind of morbidity in this thinking. We think we should be living life “to its fullest” rather than spending it preparing for death. To us death is a terminus rather than a point of departure.
Perhaps therein lies the problem. We spend our lives trying to build a successful life rather than preparing for a successful death. Struggling to survive each of a succession of days, we ignore the journey to our next “jumping off” point.
When we leave on a long trip, we take care to make sure we are well prepared and the things we leave behind are cared for (our house, our pets, perhaps even an elderly relative for which we are responsible). We put time and effort into those preparations to assure “the trip” is everything we hope for. If we take this much time preparing for a trip of a few weeks duration, how much more carefully should we prepare for our trip into the afterlife?
Each day we would do well to ask ourselves Mother Regina Marie's question: “What could be more important than the time we spend preparing to meet God?”
Dear God: What can I do today to prepare for my death?
“Death, when it approaches, ought not to take one by surprise. It should be part of the full expectancy of life. Without an ever- present sense of death life is insipid.” ~Muriel Spark, award winning Scottish novelist (1918-2006)
*Special thanks to the Mother General, Mother Regina Marie O.C.D. and the Carmelite Sisters of the Most Sacred Heart
© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the ”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Trial Separation
“Humor is merely tragedy standing on its head with its pants torn.” ~Irvin S. Cobb, American author, humorist and columnist (1876-1944)
As I stepped under the barricade I felt the seam in the center of my dress pants separate. There was no tearing sound so the stitching must have simply given way I thought. I race walked to the Men’s Room to assess the damage. With less than twenty minutes to start time there was no possibility of repair and no time to turn back.
I twisted back and forth in front of the men’s room mirror like a teenage girl checking the length of her skirt. My purpose was similar – checking to see what you could see and what you couldn’t. Fortunately, my dress jacket seemed to be sufficiently masking my unexpected “wardrobe malfunction.” I washed my hands and headed back upstairs to the main floor in search of my wife.
Teresa was in the middle of a lively conversation. Interrupting, I hastily motioned her over and explained the situation. She too discreetly checked for telltale signs of undergarments and, finding none, pronounced me presentable. A moment later the heads-up call was given. We pulled our banner from its stand and proceeded up the side aisle to the back. Teresa tarried slightly behind, surreptitiously checking my derrière one last time for adequate coverage.
We were the last of four couples in the procession, each of us leading a group to the front. The opening procession began. I nervously watched each group pass by then turning to proceed down the aisle. Finally it was our turn. With a sigh of resignation, I hoisted the banner into the air and we headed down the center aisle of Our Lady of the Angels Cathedral with 3000 congregants looking on.
At first, I was concerned I was about to be irreparably embarrassed, but then I noticed people were smiling, nodding in our direction and some even waving. Cameras were being pointed toward us. This was turning out to be somewhat gratifying. On the other hand, why were we suddenly the center of attention?
Then it hit me. Glancing quickly over my shoulder, I realized the Archbishop was immediately behind us. He was the center of attention, not us. We reached the altar, wheeled to our left, and headed for our seats at the back of the seating area.
Three hours later, the Deaconate Ordination Mass ended. It was time to process out the way we had come in. I was again concerned that my clothing issue might be noticed. Again we were the last of the four banner bearers. Each of the three couples peeled off and headed up the aisle on cue until it was finally our turn. If they had not noticed my clothing “problem” on the way in, surely they would notice on the way out.
Then to my surprise, I realized the order of egress had changed slightly. Instead of the Archbishop following us out, this time, we were following him. There was no one behind us. With the congregants’ heads turning to follow the Archbishop, no one was focused on us. Together, Teresa and I gracefully processed up the aisle around the corner and out of sight.
Most of us want big miracles in our lives. We want seas parted or, at the very least, walked across; we want thousands fed by bread seemingly created from nothing and people miraculously healed or, better yet, returned from the dead. In short, we expect life’s great obstacles to be laid low just for us, like Jesus telling the Sea of Galilee to be still.
In First Corinthians 1: 22, the Apostle Paul chides his audience for exactly the same kind of thinking: “For indeed Jews ask for signs and Greeks search for wisdom.” Like the Corinthians, we crave demonstrations and explanations.
God, on the other hand, operates within the mundane world of the everyday and often with a sense of humor. He is constantly present to us. And, if we take the time to be both introspective and retrospective, we can find His subtle hand in everything we do.
The day my pants “parted” at the Cathedral, I had been looking forward to being in the opening procession with anticipation. It was a low-risk position, with high visibility. It was attention-laden, but with minimal responsibility. My pleasure at getting some attention however was quickly replaced by a desire for anonymity. In a moment I went from wishing to be noticed to hoping I wouldn’t be.
My prayers were quickly answered and with a subtle lesson attached. Quite simply, I was far better off not getting attention than being the center of it. Appropriately and even symbolically the attention went to a representative of our faith…the Archbishop.
Part of a disciple’s response is coming to the realization that God touches us in a thousand different ways every day. It is not God flattening mountains and filling in valleys to make our way level and straight which will make the difference in our lives. Rather it is our eyes being opened and our hearts being touched which will save us.
We no longer need to be the center of attention when God becomes the center of our attention.
Dear God: You are the center of my life.
“Self-importance requires that one spend most of one's life offended by something or someone.” ~Don Juan, legendary fictional character
© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the ”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
As I stepped under the barricade I felt the seam in the center of my dress pants separate. There was no tearing sound so the stitching must have simply given way I thought. I race walked to the Men’s Room to assess the damage. With less than twenty minutes to start time there was no possibility of repair and no time to turn back.
I twisted back and forth in front of the men’s room mirror like a teenage girl checking the length of her skirt. My purpose was similar – checking to see what you could see and what you couldn’t. Fortunately, my dress jacket seemed to be sufficiently masking my unexpected “wardrobe malfunction.” I washed my hands and headed back upstairs to the main floor in search of my wife.
Teresa was in the middle of a lively conversation. Interrupting, I hastily motioned her over and explained the situation. She too discreetly checked for telltale signs of undergarments and, finding none, pronounced me presentable. A moment later the heads-up call was given. We pulled our banner from its stand and proceeded up the side aisle to the back. Teresa tarried slightly behind, surreptitiously checking my derrière one last time for adequate coverage.
We were the last of four couples in the procession, each of us leading a group to the front. The opening procession began. I nervously watched each group pass by then turning to proceed down the aisle. Finally it was our turn. With a sigh of resignation, I hoisted the banner into the air and we headed down the center aisle of Our Lady of the Angels Cathedral with 3000 congregants looking on.
At first, I was concerned I was about to be irreparably embarrassed, but then I noticed people were smiling, nodding in our direction and some even waving. Cameras were being pointed toward us. This was turning out to be somewhat gratifying. On the other hand, why were we suddenly the center of attention?
Then it hit me. Glancing quickly over my shoulder, I realized the Archbishop was immediately behind us. He was the center of attention, not us. We reached the altar, wheeled to our left, and headed for our seats at the back of the seating area.
Three hours later, the Deaconate Ordination Mass ended. It was time to process out the way we had come in. I was again concerned that my clothing issue might be noticed. Again we were the last of the four banner bearers. Each of the three couples peeled off and headed up the aisle on cue until it was finally our turn. If they had not noticed my clothing “problem” on the way in, surely they would notice on the way out.
Then to my surprise, I realized the order of egress had changed slightly. Instead of the Archbishop following us out, this time, we were following him. There was no one behind us. With the congregants’ heads turning to follow the Archbishop, no one was focused on us. Together, Teresa and I gracefully processed up the aisle around the corner and out of sight.
Most of us want big miracles in our lives. We want seas parted or, at the very least, walked across; we want thousands fed by bread seemingly created from nothing and people miraculously healed or, better yet, returned from the dead. In short, we expect life’s great obstacles to be laid low just for us, like Jesus telling the Sea of Galilee to be still.
In First Corinthians 1: 22, the Apostle Paul chides his audience for exactly the same kind of thinking: “For indeed Jews ask for signs and Greeks search for wisdom.” Like the Corinthians, we crave demonstrations and explanations.
God, on the other hand, operates within the mundane world of the everyday and often with a sense of humor. He is constantly present to us. And, if we take the time to be both introspective and retrospective, we can find His subtle hand in everything we do.
The day my pants “parted” at the Cathedral, I had been looking forward to being in the opening procession with anticipation. It was a low-risk position, with high visibility. It was attention-laden, but with minimal responsibility. My pleasure at getting some attention however was quickly replaced by a desire for anonymity. In a moment I went from wishing to be noticed to hoping I wouldn’t be.
My prayers were quickly answered and with a subtle lesson attached. Quite simply, I was far better off not getting attention than being the center of it. Appropriately and even symbolically the attention went to a representative of our faith…the Archbishop.
Part of a disciple’s response is coming to the realization that God touches us in a thousand different ways every day. It is not God flattening mountains and filling in valleys to make our way level and straight which will make the difference in our lives. Rather it is our eyes being opened and our hearts being touched which will save us.
We no longer need to be the center of attention when God becomes the center of our attention.
Dear God: You are the center of my life.
“Self-importance requires that one spend most of one's life offended by something or someone.” ~Don Juan, legendary fictional character
© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the ”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Full Participation
“Work joyfully and peacefully, knowing that right thoughts and right efforts inevitably bring about right results.” ~ James Allen, British philosophical writer (1864-1912)
I had spent the better part of a month working on the project. The power point and excel spreadsheet, which would accompany the presentation, had required a full week of work. Now the day had come for the presentation. I was as nervous a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Except, around this table sat executives not rocking chairs. One could almost smell the stench of corporate politics in the air.
My boss, a senior vice president and a savvy corporate politician in his own right, gave me and the project a brief introduction. Now I was on my own. I was barely through the title slide when the onslought of questions began. Some were things I would cover later on in the presentation, some were unanticipated and some seemed to come from beyond left field.
All too quickly my well planned presentation degenerated into a verbal free-for-all of questions, objections and suggestions. The excel spreadsheet I had so painstakingly created was “toast” within 10 minutes. Different information, different formatting even a different font and font size were requested. It felt like I was digging a trench in a sand dune. The harder I worked the faster it back-filled.
50 minutes later, it was over. The Execs filed out telling jokes and making lunch plans. I stood there staring at my laptop as if it had betrayed me somehow. My boss came up beside me unnoticed. When I finally sensed his presence I turned to face him. “That went well,” I sighed sarcastically. “Actually, it did,” he replied with a grin. “I got totally leveled!” I exclaimed. “They completely changed everything.”
“Did you really expect this group would accept everything you presented carte blanche?” I looked at him blankly. “You couldn’t possibly have foreseen every objection, anticipated every question and guessed what they might be thinking; you don’t know their operations, their blind spots or what problems they may be facing.”
“But, I thought that was my job.” I sighed. “This was a test balloon” he continued. If we were going into production tomorrow it would be different.” “As it is, we are off to a great start, with lots of options, ideas and alternatives.” He smiled thoughtfully. “Rue the day when the only alternatives you have are you own.” “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch.”
In our modern culture we are conditioned to win, to be right all the time, to be in control and to make all the right moves. It is as if life was a game show and to win we have to have all the right answers. Real life doesn’t operate like that though the media would have us believe it does.
Being right all the time is overrated and having all the right answers is unrealistic. The right answer today may be the wrong answer tomorrow. We now know the “food pyramid” of the fifties, full of red meat and cholesterol laden foods, was a death sentence. Physicians, at one time, publicly endorsed various brands of cigarettes. Things change. So do the answers.
Does this mean most of us should step back and let a few gifted people make all the decisions? In point of fact, life has little to do with “product” and a lot to do with “process”. This does not mean results are not important, but their pursuit at the cost of everything else can leave us wallowing in self pity and doubt.
The day I walked into that conference room I thought I had to have everything figured out and all the right answers to all the questions…even those from left field. My boss knew my preparations were only a platform for discussion, a place to start, a peg in the sand. I had not labored in vain, but I eventually realized I had simply created the foundation, not built the building.
As good stewards of our time we are called to full and active participation in life and in so doing we improve the quality of life for others. Understanding what this participation means is the key. It is part of a much greater process. This form of humble participation can still provide beneficial results, but without the pressure of always having the right answer and the guilt when we do not.
Dear God: Remind me I am called to full and active participation.
“Results! Why, man, I have gotten a lot of results. I know several thousand things that won't work.” ~Thomas A. Edison, American inventor (1847-1931)
© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the ”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
I had spent the better part of a month working on the project. The power point and excel spreadsheet, which would accompany the presentation, had required a full week of work. Now the day had come for the presentation. I was as nervous a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Except, around this table sat executives not rocking chairs. One could almost smell the stench of corporate politics in the air.
My boss, a senior vice president and a savvy corporate politician in his own right, gave me and the project a brief introduction. Now I was on my own. I was barely through the title slide when the onslought of questions began. Some were things I would cover later on in the presentation, some were unanticipated and some seemed to come from beyond left field.
All too quickly my well planned presentation degenerated into a verbal free-for-all of questions, objections and suggestions. The excel spreadsheet I had so painstakingly created was “toast” within 10 minutes. Different information, different formatting even a different font and font size were requested. It felt like I was digging a trench in a sand dune. The harder I worked the faster it back-filled.
50 minutes later, it was over. The Execs filed out telling jokes and making lunch plans. I stood there staring at my laptop as if it had betrayed me somehow. My boss came up beside me unnoticed. When I finally sensed his presence I turned to face him. “That went well,” I sighed sarcastically. “Actually, it did,” he replied with a grin. “I got totally leveled!” I exclaimed. “They completely changed everything.”
“Did you really expect this group would accept everything you presented carte blanche?” I looked at him blankly. “You couldn’t possibly have foreseen every objection, anticipated every question and guessed what they might be thinking; you don’t know their operations, their blind spots or what problems they may be facing.”
“But, I thought that was my job.” I sighed. “This was a test balloon” he continued. If we were going into production tomorrow it would be different.” “As it is, we are off to a great start, with lots of options, ideas and alternatives.” He smiled thoughtfully. “Rue the day when the only alternatives you have are you own.” “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch.”
In our modern culture we are conditioned to win, to be right all the time, to be in control and to make all the right moves. It is as if life was a game show and to win we have to have all the right answers. Real life doesn’t operate like that though the media would have us believe it does.
Being right all the time is overrated and having all the right answers is unrealistic. The right answer today may be the wrong answer tomorrow. We now know the “food pyramid” of the fifties, full of red meat and cholesterol laden foods, was a death sentence. Physicians, at one time, publicly endorsed various brands of cigarettes. Things change. So do the answers.
Does this mean most of us should step back and let a few gifted people make all the decisions? In point of fact, life has little to do with “product” and a lot to do with “process”. This does not mean results are not important, but their pursuit at the cost of everything else can leave us wallowing in self pity and doubt.
The day I walked into that conference room I thought I had to have everything figured out and all the right answers to all the questions…even those from left field. My boss knew my preparations were only a platform for discussion, a place to start, a peg in the sand. I had not labored in vain, but I eventually realized I had simply created the foundation, not built the building.
As good stewards of our time we are called to full and active participation in life and in so doing we improve the quality of life for others. Understanding what this participation means is the key. It is part of a much greater process. This form of humble participation can still provide beneficial results, but without the pressure of always having the right answer and the guilt when we do not.
Dear God: Remind me I am called to full and active participation.
“Results! Why, man, I have gotten a lot of results. I know several thousand things that won't work.” ~Thomas A. Edison, American inventor (1847-1931)
© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the ”© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.
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