lifewithsaints

More Than Bread and Fish

In the Gospel of John, Jesus displays His ability to take even our smallest offering and multiply it a thousand times over. This is striking to be sure, but today a less obvious aspect of the passage had a grip on my attention:
Jesus said, “Have the people recline.” Now there was a great deal of grass in that place. So the men reclined, about five thousand in number. Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed them to those who were reclining,
and also as much of the fish as they wanted. JN 6:10-11
Something about the word recline and the image of 5,000 people resting in the grass eating bread and fish captivated me. Why not sit? Why not stand in line to be served?
By the time of Jesus, the Roman custom of reclining at supper had been adopted in some Jewish circles. Bending the left arm in order to support their upper body, they were able to recline and eat with their right hand. Reclining indicated leisure and freedom.

Recline. That was the posture Jesus wanted the crowd of 5,000 people to be in when He served them supper. When He said, “Have the people recline” it was without exception. It didn’t matter who was in the crowd, what they had done or failed to do, all were fed until they were full. And being the good host He is, His gift was so plentiful that after everyone had their fill, there were leftovers!
Recline. Be free of the worries of the world. Savor the moment. Allow Him to nourish you. Recline and trust that He will make miracles happen in order to provide you not only with what you need, but enough to spill over so that you might share with others.

~~Sheila LaSalle

Tags communion, spirituality

Christianity RCIA Saints Spirituality

Mary Magdalene Showed Up

July 22^nd, is the Memorial of Saint Mary Magdalene. According to the Gospel of John, it was Mary Magdalene to whom Christ first appeared and spoke to after His resurrection.

On the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb early in the morning, while it was still dark, and saw the stone removed from the tomb. … as she wept, she bent over into the tomb and saw two angels in white sitting there… She said to them, “They have taken my Lord, and I don’t know where they laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus there, but did not know it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” She thought it was the gardener and said to him, “Sir, if you carried him away, tell me where you laid him, and I will take him.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni,” which means Teacher…

Why Mary Magdalene and not Peter? I can’t even speculate the answer to that, but I believe we can find answers to other questions with which we grapple within the context of the original question: why her? Questions such as, how do I live, on a day to day basis, as a Christian within a secular society? How am I supposed to move forward in my life after tragedy and loss? How do I acquire that burning love or that burning faith that the disciples and saints shared?

Mary came to the tomb while it was still dark. Imagine what that alone must have been like. Consider the wilderness, the hungry, nocturnal wildlife roaming about the land. Her deep craving for Christ outweighed any fear, or struggle, or threat. Despite the darkness, despite her grief, she went to him. She showed up. Love knows no limits. When we struggle, encounter a tragedy or loss, those who truly love us show up. This is the love that Mary Magdalene displayed. And I believe this is the answer to the questions that we encounter from time to time.

How do I live, on a day to day basis, as a Christian within a secular society? Show up. Read scripture, pray. As Catholics, we have the privilege to engage in an encounter with Christ, in the highest form of prayer, on a daily basis: the Mass.

How am I supposed to move forward in my life after tragedy and loss? Show up. Even when our grief is blinding and every forward step feels daunting, we need to show up because that is the most surefooted path to a healing encounter with the risen Christ.

How do I acquire that burning love or that burning faith so many others have shared? Again, show up. We choose which relationships we do, or do not, nurture in life.

Reading on, although she spoke to him, Mary didn’t recognize Jesus until He said her name. Showing up, despite the unknown, despite our pain, despite our secular apathay is only the first half of the equation. Once we do show up, we must listen.

~~Sheila LaSalle

Tags communion, faithfulness, saints

Catholic Christianity Saints Spirituality

Vulnerable Uncertainty

Recently, a friend expressed a dryness in his faith and described feeling a vulnerable uncertainty of the future. I thought, How utterly blessed he is! Why? Because the reality is that all of life is uncertain and we truly are vulnerable, but the world and our own willful determination often convince us otherwise and we ignore the truth. Acknowledging this truth places us on the precipice, positioning us to take that perfect leap of faith, a free-fall into a holy detachment.

Brother Lawrence was a Carmelite monk during the 17th century. He worked in the kitchen and was said to have transformed drudgery into devotion. “…in the noise and clatter of my kitchen…I possess God in as great a tranquility as if I were on my knees at the Blessed Sacrament.” (The Practice of the Presence of God). His collected letters reveal that his awareness of God’s presence led to a silent, but continual, conversation with the divine. It also enabled him to become indifferent to what life might bring and abandon his sense of self as he focused on the love of God.

I am not certain what dry valley brought Brother Lawrence to his precipice, but I do know that at some point, most of us will encounter our own. Whether it be the cessation of a career, or relationship, the death of a loved one, or a parent’s “empty nest”, at some point we become stripped of how we once defined ourselves, our role in life, and what brought us meaning. It is here that we may enter into that dryness of faith, but it is also here where we have our greatest opportunity. This is when we have the opportunity to no longer concern ourselves with a defined role but to simply and wonderfully become a vessel for God’s love; to no longer worry about what life might bring, but to encounter every task and every person placed before us as God sent; to trust that His grace will be sufficient for every challenge we may encounter. It is also our opportunity to wait in peace until God reveals His will.

It isn’t always easy. For several weeks I have been torn about whether or not to apply for a new position at work. I’ve been an instructional coach for 3 years at a middle school, working with Language Arts teachers. I enjoy my work and find it fulfilling. However, another opportunity is on the horizon which excites me with the prospect of new challenges and opportunities for professional growth. I’ve told people that I’m praying about it. But I haven’t exactly been at peace while I’ve waited for God to reveal what He wants me to do. The peaceful wait and discernment requires us to listen, to remain in His presence regardless of where we are, what task is at hand. And although I have prayed about it, I truly haven’t abandoned “my wants” or “needs” in the process. I also haven’t abdicated the “decision” entirely to God. If I had, instead of saying, “I’m torn. I can’t decide,” my response would be, “I’m waiting to see what God wants me to do.” Sheesh! And this isn’t even a valley! Or perhaps it is…

Perhaps it is Christ inviting me to the precipice, encouraging me to free fall into holy detachment, to let go of my will and impression of who I think I am supposed to be, and relish the vulnerable uncertainty as I practice being in the presence of God.

~Sheila LaSalle

Tags faithfulness, saints

Catholic RCIA Spirituality

He Knew You

Before He sang the stars into existence,
before He separated mist from the sea,
He knew you.

Before He broke the bread and took the cup
before He said, Do This in Remembrance of Me,
He knew you.

Before He carried a cross through dusty streets,
before iron nailed his palms and feet,
He knew you.

He knew your struggles, your search for refuge
and for your whole life,
He’s loved you.

He’s loved you whether you be saddened or elated
and for your whole life,
He’s waited.

He’s waited for this very day, for You
to come to His banquet, enter in and forever more
feast on Him.
Sheila LaSalle

Tags communion

Catholic Christianity RCIA Saints

The Persistence of a Saint

Post author By SheilaLaSalle
Post date July 2, 2015
No Comments on The Persistence of a Saint

Growing up, celebrating All Saints Day involved much more than dressing up in a costume on the first of November. For weeks leading up to the celebration, each student chose a saint to research and write a report. The culminating activity: dressing up as that saint on All Saints Day.

Upon entering the school library, girls with names like Theresa and Monica rushed to the saint section to find the saint that shared their name. Not a strong reader yet, I waited for them to select their books before I searched the bottom stack of picture books for a saint named Sheila. “Looks like I’m off the hook,” I told a friend, “there’s no saint Sheila.” Within minutes, most of my classmates heard my declaration, as well as the librarian, and I was instructed to choose a saint from the collection anyway. Book after book, every cover captured a smiling saint in the image of perfection. Clean and tidy. They must have been born perfect, I thought and I found it difficult to look at them. I was a tom-boy. I played Little League baseball, and spit. Scuffed knees and dirt under my finger nails was a badge of honor. I looked nothing like these saints, and I was far from having the patience of a saint, a term I heard my mother use to describe my older sister, named after Saint Catherine. Then and there, I determined that I was not born a saint, would never be perfect, and my mother knew it when she named me Sheila.

Not until I was far into my adulthood did I get to know any of the saints. I learned that they really didn’t start out wholesome and perfect. But what made them a saint was that at some point in their life they turned toward God, embraced the Trinity, and lived their life dedicated to Christ. It was this dedication that resulted in a holy communion with God in heaven. Around this time, I heard a priest define a saint as a friend of God, which is when It all began to make sense. If someone were to be with God after passing from this life, it stood to reason they would be a friend of God during this life also.

It requires a certain dedication to develop and maintain a friendship. Consider the effort we put into our friendships, the hours spent being together, the countless conversations. Over time, as we gain new responsibilities and are pulled in other directions, it requires a certain persistence if we intend for our friendships to last.

As a friend of God, saints also engaged in this behavior. Their faithfulness was more than keeping the commandments and being a “good person”. Their faithfulness was evident in their persistence and dedication to their relationship with Christ.

To be a friend of God and come into union with Him, it is not the patience of a saint we need to adopt, but rather the persistence and dedication of a saint.

Sheila LaSalle

Tags communion, faithfulness, saints

Catholic Christianity RCIA

Come Holy Spirit fill us with your Love

Post author By SheilaLaSalle
Post date July 1, 2015
3 Comments on Come Holy Spirit fill us with your Love

“…the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the holy Spirit that has been given to us” (Rom 5:5)

If I only knew…. If I could go back and do it all over again…. I wish I would have held my tongue….

Most of us have experienced regret. “If I spent less money on trivial trinkets and clothes, I would have more disposable income to share with my neighbor who just lost her job.” “If I only knew the last time I saw my son was really going to be the last time, I would have expressed how proud I was of him and hugged him a little longer.” “If I had been less self-conscious and prideful, I would have asked for help and life today may be quite different.” Regret may indeed be a part of the human condition, but why?

Because we are not perfect, our actions are not always rooted in a spirit of love. But as Christians, we are called to something greater, we are called to have a loving spirit which requires more than being a nice person. And I don’t think we can manufacture it on our own.

In Hebrew, the word for spirit is ruah, meaning breath, air, wind. When we pray, asking for the Holy Spirit to fill us, we are essentially asking to be filled with that breath of love so powerful it took on a life of its own. We are asking for the most ancient love of all to reside in us, to take up residence, to live there. So that as we encounter the maze of human trials and relationships, both personal and societal, we do so with a love that surpasses what we alone can summon.

Sheila LaSalle

Tags Holy Spirit

Catholic Christianity RCIA

Icons Among Us: Why do Catholics do That?

Post author By SheilaLaSalle
Post date June 23, 2015
No Comments on Icons Among Us: Why do Catholics do That?

Before I returned to the Catholic Church, I began to collect small statues of Mary. My husband, a wood carver and devout Protestant at the time, started the collection with a six inch wooden replica of our Blessed Mother with her hands outstretched. I found it comforting to have her “around”. But I never prayed near her and with the exception of dusting and rearranging, I never touched her. I found the act of touching the feet of Jesus or kissing the cross to be an archaic, left-over tradition from centuries past when mankind had not connected the dots between exposure and contagious disease. So when I first knelt before the statue of Jesus in St. Joseph’s chapel on Mt. Royal in Montreal, I never intended to join the long line of people waiting to do just that. I watched them. When they finally came before him, some clung while some barely grazed his feet with their fingertips, but no one pulled out a handy wipe before or after.

When the line dwindled down to one person, my husband leaned over and asked me if I was going to “go up”. I thought of all the crutches that lined the walls in the entrance to the Oratory, each one bore witness to a miracle. In a burst of humility, I stood up and approached the ceramic Jesus.

Touched by so many before me, his feet hardly resembled feet, but I held them anyway and prayed. The act of treating an inanimate “person” with as much reverence as I would a live being reminded me of the night I held my twenty year old son Luke, six days after his unexpected death.

While my father sat beside him, quietly praying the rosary, I stood as close as I could, without climbing into the coffin, and placed my hand on his chest. He felt doll like, very un-real, and yet, I didn’t want to withdraw my hand. Turning to whisper to anyone else in the room, moving to the left or right so that my husband and other family members could see him, I kept my hand attached to some part of his body. I touched him with no less love than I did when he was a little boy sleeping, because touching the place that once housed his spirit was meaningful.

Four and a half years later, I find that same meaning when I gaze at pictures of him. Pictures serve as a reminder that he was here, that the love and laughter he shared was real, and that I’ll see him again, God willing.

As Catholics, we do not pray to statues. But statues serve as a reminder of the realness of the one it resembles. Just as with every image of our Blessed Mother that I placed in my home also included my plea, lead me to your son, kissing a cross or clinging in deep prayer to the feet of a ceramic Christ is a very real example of the spiritual gesture we are engaging in.

~Sheila LaSalle

Uncategorized

Leaning In to Jesus

My sister in-law was at the end of her 21 month long journey with lung cancer. One by one we each reminded her that she’d fought long and hard and that it was okay to now let it go. But she hung on. The literature that a Hospice volunteer presented said that often people are waiting for something, for some sort of closure. I talked with a few of the other caregivers on her “team” and none of us could think of what sort of closure she might need. That is, until I realized I’d been thinking of her as a patient rather than the woman I’d known for almost thirty years.

She was in middle school when I met her and she quickly became the babysitter for my thirteen month old daughter. She took excellent care of my daughter and after she placed her in her crib each night, she cleaned my apartment. One evening my class let out early and I surprised Jen who was busy scrubbing the kitchen sink. Instead of leaving early herself, she insisted on finishing the job. “I started it, I need to finish.” Years later, she maintained that spirit of finishing what she’d begun. There were times when she would forego visits with friends because she was in the middle of a home project and wanted to finish it. She set goals and she completed them. Why should now, suffering through her final days at Hospice, be any different?

I realized, this wasn’t about unfinished business in terms of a relationship; it wasn’t about giving in; it wasn’t about letting go of her battle with cancer. It was about finishing what she’d begun.

During her last few hours, I encouraged her as I would a marathon runner nearing the finish line. You’re almost there! You can do this! Lean in to Jesus! Passing into the arms of Jesus became her final goal. And when she reached completion, her passing was more of a peaceful leaning in verses a struggle to remain.

How many times have we struggled alone, to fix a relationship, to forgive someone, to assuage our guilt or our grief? How many times have we struggled alone to be happy? Relying on our will and our intellect to complete the task. How much easier it would be if we also leaned in?

We too need to lean in to the arms of Christ. Lean into His love, lean into the hope, and when our hearts are racked with grief, we need to lean into His compassion and bright joy.

When Christ said, Follow me, I doubt he meant for us to tag along at a distance. Rather, I believe He meant Walk with me, Be with me, Cling to me, Bring all you are to me and I will make you whole.

Christianity RCIA

When We Go to Mass

We go when we’re content, when we’re guilty and afraid. We go when we’re grieving and when we’re filled with joy. We go when we need to connect or reconnect with something larger than ourselves, when we need to remember that we’re not alone. But sometimes we go because there is simply no other place else to go. Because we have exhausted every other avenue in our search for completion; shopping, drinking, flirting, working, and we still come up short. We go because on some level we recognize that it is only through this connection that we ever come close to completion. Because when we go, we come into union with a divine essence that settles into the fibers of our heart and transforms us.

Tags communion, Holy Spirit

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