Mom Feast

Feast of St. Monica

Painting of St. Monica, by John Nava

Today is the feast of St. Monica!
It's a special feast day for us moms, because she is a special patron of mothers...especially the moms who have persevere in prayer and try to convert their worries and fretting and even fears for their kids into something more productive: prayer.
Here is one of the premier examples of patience, especially for us moms.
Really, I should unofficially consider her a patron, because here is a mom who showed such patience and perseverance in prayer...and these are some of the traits (especially that whole patience thing) that I severely lack.

Painting of St. Monica, by Janet McKenzie

St. Monica, a saint from north Africa, prayed for the conversion (successfully) of her husband and his mother. But, most famously, she prayed and prayed faithfully for the conversion of her wild, wayward son, Augustine.

Augustine was a son that would give any mom many sleepless nights and teary phone calls with girlfriends. And while Monica wasn't of the phone call era, I suspect she had many a night awake fretting over her boy. He was wild and ignored her pleas, getting into all sorts of revelry; ok, even trouble...the kind of trouble we moms go gray over (can read more about him tomorrow on his feast day!).

But Monica persevered, because this was her son, she knew the truth and she had the faith that her prayers would be answered according to God's will....sooner or later. Well, it was something like 17 years later, but it happened. Not only did Augustine turn his life around and step back onto more solid ground, but he converted to the faith and was ordained by St. Ambrose himself.

I like to think it is in no small part due to the faithful lasting sure prayers of his mom, as well as her prayerful example and steadfast love, no matter what. She didn't shun him. She might well have corrected him, being his mom and all (whether or not he listened)..... {I know this is an old holy card image, but it makes me laugh.
It's St. Monica praying for St. Augustine,
but that's the same look my boys have when I'm giving them advice...
which is surely also a scene from the life of these two!}

....but she never stopped loving him. And that is what will turn even the hardest furthest of hearts back to the truth of Real Love. So I love St Monica, and she reminds me to never give up. Ever. We mom's can't give up...it's one of the things that keeps the world spinning correctly on it's axis.  I know it.

Antiphon from today's morning prayer:

"You answered her prayer, O Lord, you did not disregard her tears 

which fell upon the earth wherever she prayed."

Happy feast day, moms.
St. Monica, pray for us!

{Much of this reposted, not all, from last  year...it's a busy time, but this feast day is not to be missed}.

Sacred Hearts

 You know, I always get a little chuckle out of the biker tattoos and punk or rockabilly co-opting of the Sacred Heart image.  Some might well gasp in shock or tsk tsk...but really, I think it's kind of a flipped, inside joke.

I mean, I know it's supposed to be, in many tho maybe not all cases,  radical and all... and a way of thumbing their punk biker noses at organized religion or God or whatever.  But to me, it's a little joke on them.  Because I really am  not sure  you can walk around wearing a Sacred Heart image without it somehow, in teeny tiny ways, rubbing off on you.  God's funny like that.  He's got a great sense of humor....look at my family, look at me!  Jesus, I would guess, is fine with a biker having a tattoo of His sacred heart...at least He's there, right? Isn't it a little bit like a small boy writing "Mama" on  his arm with a sharpie and then going in and being a out of control little rebel?  It's that natural conflict that we all have.  These tough punkers or bikers seem to be much the same.  Can you say "arrested development?"  I can.  {Ok, now I am sure a fleet of rough tough bikers will want to come rumbling through my yard....please.  Have a sense of humor, life is short!}

And really, even punk   hipster mamas can carry their babes in these "rockabilly punk slings", see just below...I'm not even sure what to make of that!  Good or no? Hmmmm, good, really....but too few really understand so the public at large will think you've gone punk if  you cart your kiddo around in this.  But the really hardcore Catholics might give you a big high five!  What's a mom to do??  Ha! And speaking of moms...tomorrow we could, maybe, look at some fun co-opts of pop culture and Mary, talk about conflicted children! Folks can't stop splashing her around...but she's cool, or, as the youngsters say, "chill" (they say that right?), because we old moms know that just like with celebs, any publicity is good publicity.  (To a degree...there IS blasphemy and sacrilege, but this is a happy post so we won't go there this time.)

Anyhow, today is the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, June is the month of the Sacred Heart. {I lifted this part of this post, shamelessly, from a prior post on this solemnity, because of the travel thing, so cut me some slack ok!? Thanks!}  This is an old devotion, a private devotion and one that helps any day, every, day be more mindful. Read all about it here. It helps transform our mundane regular daily grind into something bigger than ourselves - and instead offers our mere efforts to Christ as a way of showing we love Him, despite ourselves and our habitual selfish nature. And it's not just this month, it can be done year 'round, of course.

When I make this offering in the morning, somehow it helps my days. It doesn't make them smoother, it doesn't make them all jolly...but it makes even those "terrible horrible no good very bad days" into something more. It's a comfort. Oddly, I am often more out of sorts when I forget this prayer to start the day. It's like resting my head on His chest for a moment before I hop on the whirlwind of the day and try to lasso it.

So, yeah, it's another Catholic post. It's an uber Catholic post, really. Meaning, it's one that might seem strange to those not familiar with it all (though I don't mind explaining or questions either, I can take it!). It's one of those old Catholic devotions, but it's a goody. And if any of you are having days that are way stressed or out of sorts, I'd suggest giving it a go if you wonder... because really, what's the risk? A little comfort? A little extra grace in the day? What's not to like about that?

 Odilon Redon, The Sacred Heart

Heck, maybe you'll want to get a radical tattoo...but because devotion to the heart of Jesus IS so cool, AND so radical, that you'd be hip to be square!  Who knew?

Feast day of St. Jane Francis de Chantal

Today is the memorial of St. Jane Francis de Chantal.
Now, she is a fascinating saint to me because, for one thing, she was mother to seven children.
That's right!
Mom to seven kids, and STILL she made it to sainthood.

I'm tellin' ya, it gives me hope, it does.
If nothing else, here is a gal that I figure can understand me to a fair degree and I can hit up for prayers on my behalf.
We moms of big families stick together!

She was french, born into a noble family. She also married a nobleman. Which is cool in it's own way because, once again, we see that saints can come from any circumstances; it's the disposition of our hearts and the choices we make, not the situations we are born to that determine the outcome. I think that's fairly encouraging! St. Jane was widowed due to a hunting accident - her husband was shot. She struggled for many years to forgive the man who killed her husband; eventually she succeeded after much prayer and counsel.

Her closest counselor, friend, confident was none other than St. Francis de Sales (another top notch fav saint, and the author of this amazing book). So, here we have St. Jane showing us the importance of true friendship and how a holy friendship can lead to amazing things. Another reason I am keen on her. Her long friendship with St. Francis led her to eventually found the order Visitation nuns. Eventually she founded eighty-five convents.A woman who can be a mom to a bunch of kids, manage her household in a holy manner, forgive the hardest things and be a long and true friend, and still then manage to found an organization that does eternal good in the world.....now there is an example!
I have much to learn from a woman like St. Jane.
She is not of this era, but I daresay that Oprah and the modern reality tv micro-celebs could take a lesson from her too!

St. Jane de Chantal, pray for us!

The Assumption

Icon of the Assumption

Today is the Solemnity of the Assumption.

And solemnity doesn't mean, necessarily, somber and morose...rather it can mean big time, important. Meaning, it's a holy day of obligation, go to Mass. And while this is one of the "biggie" (Yes, I spent my summers in the seventies on the beach, we used that term, so what?) solemnities in the Catholic calendar, I don't have the energy to give you all the scholarly apologetics behind it all (go see the link above for a start).

As an aside, however, Coffeedoc pointed out that today was the feast of the Assumption to Marta - Ethiopian Orthodox celebrate this feast in a big way and it is called "Filsata Mariam" - and she jumped up and down with excitement. So it's a big deal even in the the other ancient Christian faith traditions.

Ethiopian Orthodox Marian icon.

Suffice it to say that this Solemnity is totally cool and has so many threads connecting it all that it blows my mind with a grin. And that, as so much of life is, it's one of the Mysteries. That's mystery with a capital "M;" theologically speaking. By which I mean, if I really could understand it through and through, well, I would be be both presumptuous AND wrong. Because some of the mysteries that make life and faith so rich, are not for my puny mind to dissect.

So, that all disclaimed, ahem, I give you my personal gloss on this feast day (My blog, massively opinionated, you knew it was coming.):
Mary was a mother who loved with perfect love (unlike myself). Her son was a perfect son, who also loved with a perfect love. Now, if I, with my very imperfect love can love my sons SO much that it can make me cry and mope when they leave for their very fun new exciting lives in college (Next week, I"m just saying.) once again......then how much more so did Mary ache to see her son leave this earth and his time with her in such a grisly unbearable event? And how much did she miss him, achingly miss him, all those years? And therefore, at the end of her life, when she was able to be reunited with her boy, her Son....just think of the joy, the unbridled radiating shimmery JOY, of that reunion! And in this feast, we believe that they were reunited in Heaven.

Frankly, I simply love everything about this. I mean, just having my boy come back home after a few months at college makes me want to whoop, jump for joy, run down the stairs and hug him tight, not let go, feed him pie and just look at him. It makes me ridiculously happy. So, this feast is a promise of that to me, that reunion, that that kind of love between mom and son (or, ok, kids, but hey, let me run this out), doesn't just die out...it is eternal. And that is the best promise of all and that is nothing but cool.

So, there, moms....that's something to smile about.
Happy Solemnity of the Assumption!

Detail of painting of Assumption, by Titian

Magnificat (Luke 1:36-55)

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,

my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour;

he has looked with favour on his lowly servant.

From this day all generations will call me blessed;

the Almighty has done great things for me and holy is his name.

He has mercy on those who fear him,

from generation to generation.

He has shown strength with his arm

and has scattered the proud in their conceit,

Casting down the mighty from their thrones

and lifting up the lowly.

He has filled the hungry with good things

and sent the rich away empty.

He has come to the aid of his servant Israel,

to remember his promise of mercy,

The promise made to our ancestors,

to Abraham and his children for ever.

Amen.

Lodovico Caracci, The Assumption of the Virgin, about 1586-7

Feast of Corpus Christi

It's the feast of Corpus Christi: the Body of Christ.
It's one of the greatest Mysteries of the faith, capital "M" mystery again...one of those that boggle and baffle the mind. One of those you belief or you don't. Period.
I do.

It's the Eucharist. The body of Christ. It's a gift, a sacrament, it's utterly holy and sacred and, at the same time, the most intimate thing on earth.

I can't do this justice of course. To read more about this, with historical support, go here.
To read a good piece on how to bring together your mind, heart and senses on this, go here.

All I know is that I like thinking about connections a lot. You know that. I like that whole connected relational brought together linked adopted bonded sense in (my) life. I see it so many places that it gives me chills if I stop to think about it. And that is what I find to the utmost, mindblowing, heart zinging way in the sacrament of Communion and the Eucharist: the most intimate connection and unity that can be. Ever - in this world. And I yearn for it and reach for it and I sink into it with relief and gratitude and wallowing comfort and gratitude.
And I don't understand it with my mind.
But my heart and soul know it's more real than anything else.
John 6

"Institution of the Eucharist," painting by Nicolas Poussin

Another Day Older, Again!

Well, today is my birthday, again!
I am 47 years old today. Whew.
Since this seems to come around every year, I can't really justify any big ol' post about it.
It's another day. Another day older and another year to claim.

Last year's bday.

And as I mentioned last year, here, I have always had this weird "go underground" sense about my birthday. "Don't make a big deal of it, don't tell anyone, you don't deserve the notice or the fuss" But I did finally realize that my children deserve the example of rejoicing in a birthday (not that they have much problem with that...but you know that particular oddness sneaks up on you...maybe at, say, age 32, fair warning!).

And I want them to be grateful for every year and day they are given: good, bad, frustrating, harried, stressful, electric, dull, full and overflowing. Every one, it's a gift. And every bit of my old body; it's a gift, even when I notice all the many ways that age is taking it's inexorable claim on me. I could go on, you know I do {But it's my bday so I'll give YOU a gift a spare you. You're welcome...}.

But here is what I choose today to think about: instead of the 'whats," (as in what's wrong, what's old) I prefer, if only today, to think of the "who's"....by which I mean the people who mean something or so much to me.

The connections.
That is where you find the riches of getting older, another day, another year.
With that in mind, there are connections that spring to mind today...
And while I would go on about my husband, children, family, friends....this is not an award show or a roast and I'm not Sally Field.

Today the connections that spring to my mind are of a ridiculously cute small boy, who is precociously potty trained (not that I'm envious, not me, no sir...) and has a smile that lights up a room (I think it's actually a combo of his smile and his beautiful mama). It's his bday today too, go give him a big bday shout!

Another connection, dear to my heart: Today is the feast of St. Anthony of Padua.

Painting by El Greco

St. Anthony is a saint that I have long loved. Not only because we share a special day, but because I have found him to be a comfort and a trusted saint to turn to for prayers. He was known for his kindness, his courtesy, and his deep humanity. His appeal endures even now in this modern age; and it's no wonder, really. Because in this modern age, what we lack the most in our postmodern harsh world is just that: kindness, courtesy, humanity.

Which brings me back to the whole point of this post. To mark another day, another year older. And with that, to remember the best part: I am happier now than ever and I seem to be happier each year I get older.
How cool is that?
This inexorable claim of time gives me my mother's hands, and now feet and hair. This added day, added year, also gives me more connections, more relationships, deeper ones. Love is the wealth in life.
And so, on my birthday, I have the best gift.
I know.
I love so many.
I am rich.