Another Place

This is another place where I spend a lot of wasted time. It does offer an opportunity for prayer and mediation, I'll give it that. This is called a "haibun" -- half prose, half haiku.

Waiting at the Gatehouse


A mix of parents, grandparents, children, grandchildren, spouses, friends, and lovers patiently wait to be called. All nationalities, shapes and sizes share the time. I am reminded of Anna Akhmatova’s Requiem, and am ashamed of my impatience. We the waiting become one in prayer.


Leningrad -- Norfolk
snowflakes fall on both prisons
one tormented cry

Places

Tonight I was the Lector at the 7:00 PM Mass. We celebrated the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome. Fr. Bob told us about the basilica of St. John Lateran being the cathedral of the Pope as bishop of Rome. Therefore it is called the "mother church" of Rome and the world. It is a visible symbol of the universal Church.
At first, I was thinking "big deal." But then I thought how important places are to us. Think of those people who refuse to leave their closed churches. Geesh! I get upset when my favorite restaurant goes out of business. Seriously! I use to live across the street from a school and now that school has been made into an apartment building. Very strange.
The biggest emotional punch in the stomach was the closing of St. Stephen's Priory. I could still work myself up over that.

Memories of St. Stephen’s


It’s been a year now, the door to the priory
closed. Plants in bright uniforms, which use to
guard the entrance are missing. Sightless windows
search for the statue of St. Dominic.
I drive through the circle driveway,
listening for prayer, looking for
movement, but the stones are silent,
the fountain dry, and the benches empty.
Cob webs bloom among Queen Anne’s lace,
in St. Cecilia’s garden. The branches beckon
me to walk the overgrown path to the Charles.
No canoe, no paddle, no contemplation.
Where’s the praise for this dusky woods?
Laudare. Benedicere. Praedicare..
I wish.
I pray.
I could.

Kalista

My daughter Karen had her first party, tonight. It was a jewelry party. The jewelry is from a company known as Kalista. Parties sell expensive stuff. The cheapest item was $ 60. Since it was my daughter, I wanted to show support, so I let her buy two pieces: one for her birthday, next week, and one for Christmas. I would have hosted a party, myself, but I don't know anybody that would spend that kind of money. Most of my friends are elderly and can not afford it. People I work with would never spend that amount. So I didn't volunteer to be a hostess.
Karen only had three people. Besides myself, she had her future mother-in-law, and future sister-in-law. That's it.

AFSCME

I went to a Union meeting tonight. Why is it that everytime we get a raise; we have to pay more dues?
We talked about establishing a sick bank for our members.
How much to spend for flowers and donations for deceased family of members?
Should Union stewarts be given a stipend?
Managements reorganization and how this will affect us.
How many of us were thinking of retiring?
It was an interesting meeting, but not many came. The weather may have been a factor. It was and is raining very hard.

In the Heart of the Sea

Something is bothering me. In the book, In the Heart of the Sea, by Nathaniel Philbrick, a true story about the tragedy of the Whaleship, Essex, there is something disturbing--cannibalism. It's not disturbing because of the cannibalism. That is heinous, enough. No, it is the very humane, even (I dare say), Christian way, they tried to approach the act. They prayed about it. They prayed not to have recourse to it. But they looked upon it as a Christ model of self sacrifice. They ALL agreed to participate. They ALL agreed to offer themselves up so that the others may live. It seemed a very Christian thing to do.
At the end, they chose straws. The one with the short straw was shot. His dead body gave the others life so that they lived to be saved.
...........some people think we Catholics are cannibal-like in eating the Body & Blood of Jesus.
Of course, we're not cannibals eating Jesus. That's not what disturbs me. It's the abomination of cannibalism being compared to acting like Jesus. You can't take a life to save a life.
They didn't always draw straws. Most of the men died, anyway, and they ate the dead.
Another thing--how come they never thought of using the dead as bait, to catch fish. Throwing the dead, overboard would have resulted in the fish eating it, anyway. Right?
Ugh!

St. Martin de Porres

Today is the Feast of St. Martin de Porres. One of my favorite stories about St. Martin is the one where he cut the hair of a friar too short. The friar called him every racial slur he could think of, insulting his intelligence, and whatever else he could think of. The prior happened to over hear and reprimanded the friar, but Martin said he didn't mind, everything the friar said was true. You see Martin had learned to offer up the crosses he met in the day. Every hurtful thing the friar hurled at Martin was used by Martin to bring himself closer to God.
I like the story, but I think with today's references. Martin would have been labeled a "sap." In letting people verbally abuse him he was enabling their abuse. He was not helping them advance on their path to God.
Complicated?
That's the meditation I like.

Mother of God Monastery

Mother of God Monastery is the home of Dominican Nuns in W. Springfield, MA. I spent the weekend there to attend a Regional Meeting of the Lay Fraternity of Saint Dominic for Region One. The meeting was interesting. We had an interesting talk on St. Paul by our brother from the Clerical Fraternity of Saint Dominic. Fr. Marc Bergeron, the pastor at St. Ann's in Fall River, MA was the speaker. He spoke of the Letters of St. Paul.
Besides the educational side, we also held elections. We were to elect a new President and secretary. But nothing is that simple. First, I was told that I was unelectable. I could vote but never be elected to anything. It seems that the Provincial Council once voted that nobody from my chapter (Our Lady of Mercy Chapter, MCI Norfolk, MA) could ever be elected. I suppose they were afraid that a murderer from my chapter might be elected to be the President of our Province. How would that look? A murderer as President of the Dominican Laity! Horrors! You better believe I'm going to work to change that law.
The person we elected to be President was our Vice-President. So being elected now meant the Vice President's slot was empty.
So we elected a new Vice President. But that person was our Third Delegate to Provincial Council. Now we need a new Third Delegate.
When it came to voting for Secretary, we had to run through the voting process three time. The winner, the first time declined the office. The winner of the second election, likewise, declined the office. The time was a take. Alleluia!
Our elections make the national election inconsequential!
Because West Springfield is a two hour drive, I made arrangements to stay for the weekend at Mother of God Monastery. Finally, a good silent retreat. I needed it. I reconnected with My Beloved.