Having Trust in the Lord

On Tuesday, I received what should be good news from a medical procedure.  However, in the moment, it didn’t feel like good news.  It just meant I had eliminated one thing from a list of possible problems.  I have a good relationship with the doctor whom I saw.  In fact, when I began my medical “adventures” as I like to call them, he was one of the only people who acknowledged that there was a problem to begin with.  I found out yesterday that he is retiring next month.  It felt as if he was abandoning me, even though another of his colleagues will continue to follow me.  There have been many changes in my “care team” in the last few years, as those I have known and trusted have left their practices to other professionals.  I find consolation in the fact that my new doctors are and will be trusted colleagues of those who came before. 

This situation reminded me of the story of the person walking along the seashore with Jesus at his side.  Looking back, the person saw two sets of footprints in the sand.  As this person walked through life, he faced many challenges.  When he looked back at these times, he saw only one set of footprints.  The person asked Jesus, “Why did you abandon me at my weakest moments?”  Jesus replied to him, “It was at those moments that I carried you.”

There are times when life seems very difficult and perhaps hard to understand.  At these moments, it is tempting to believe that God is not with us, that He may have abandoned us, in fact.  It is precisely at these times, however, that we need to remember that God is always with us.  As Jesus said in Matthew 6:34, “Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself.  Sufficient for a day is its own evil.” God takes care of the lowliest creatures, so why should He not take care of us?  God will always be there for us.  We just have to remember to turn to Him in our times of need.

The Importance of Being a Good Example

On Sunday afternoon, my mom and I went for a walk around Silver Lake, in Big Cottonwood Canyon near Brighton.  This is one of our favorite places to go when we want to escape the heat of the valley in the summer.  As we were walking around the lake, we passed a man and what appeared to be his adult children.  Another passerby might not have noticed, but my mom saw the Hungarian emblem on this man’s shirt and asked him if he was Hungarian.  It turns out this man was born in New Jersey to Hungarian parents who came to the United States after the 1956 revolution in Hungary.  My mother was born in Hungary at the end of the Second World War and came to the US in 1960.  They started conversing in Hungarian, and I was amazed at how little of an accent this man had.  He didn’t sound Hungarian when speaking English, but he didn’t sound American when speaking Hungarian either.  He learned Hungarian as his first language, and English as his second.  As they spoke, I caught a word here and there that I understood, but it seemed his young adult children did not understand anything that was said.

This got me thinking.  In both my mother’s and this man’s case, the parents who lived through a culture shift and revolution kept the language of their homeland alive for their children who grew up in the US.  The next generation, however, did not learn the language.  Why?  Was it a simple matter of assimilation?  A lack of motivation on the parts of our first generation American parents?  Our own lack of interest as the children of native speakers?

I think this situation could apply to what is happening in the Church today, with more and more youth leaving as they get older.  Youth with parents who make church a priority and set a good example for their children may be more likely to continue attending church as they grow into adulthood.  Youth who grow up surrounded by traditions are more likely to keep those traditions and pass them on to future generations.

To bring it back to my own experience, I picked up most of the Hungarian I now recognize from repeated exposure as a child.  Similarly, I recall that I didn’t so much memorize the prayers we say at Mass through isolated practice but through repeated exposure at Mass.  My cousins, the children of my mother’s brother, on the other hand, who were raised in an environment where the use of Hungarian was less accepted, didn’t pick up as much of the language as I did.  These same cousins are not regular church goers as adults either.  The two are not related in any way, other than perhaps the example of my uncle was less effective than it could have been compared with my mother’s.

In order to keep a culture alive, people need an example to follow.  By the same token, in order to keep our churches and faith vibrant in the future, we need to first examine our own behaviors and attitudes.  What sort of example are we setting for the next generation?

In the comments, feel free to share your own ideas or experiences on this topic.

The Mystery of the Trinity

In his homily this past Sunday for the Solemnity of the Holy Trinity, Father Andrzej brought up the Arian Heresy, which denied the Hypostatic Union.

If you are anything like I was when I first heard that term, you're probably saying, "The Hypo-what now?"

My bachelor's degree is in English.  I've always loved words - spelling them, learning about their etymology, picking apart their roots to get at their deeper meaning.  So, Hypostatic Union.  Let's take that apart.

In terms of doctrine, Hypostatic Union refers to the mystery that Jesus Christ was fully human and fully divine.  The term comes from the Greek hypostasis, meaning substance.  So, literally, the Hypostatic Union means a bringing together of substances - the Divine and the Human - into the one person, Jesus Christ, "the eternally begotten Son of the Father who became man and revealed in a human form, in a human language, the mystery of God," as Father said in his homily this week.

In response to the Arian heresy, the Church convened the First Council of Nicea in 325 AD, out of which came the Nicene Creed, which we profess at Mass on Sundays.  In the most recent English translation, this creed states that Jesus Christ is "consubstantial with the Father", consubstantialem Patri in Latin.  Again, we can take the word consubstantial apart to get at its deeper meaning.  The prefix con- means together or with, and substantial means relating to substance.  Consubstantial, as it is used in the creed, means “of the same substance as the Father,” further emphasizing the divinity of Jesus.

Still, the mystery of the Holy Trinity, one God in three divine persons, is just that, a mystery, which is hard for us humans to wrap our minds around.  Saint Patrick is said to have tried to explain the Trinity using a shamrock, three leaves but one plant.  I really like how Father Andrzej explained it later in his homily:  From all of eternity God’s perfect knowledge of God begets the image of God, which is the Son, eternally begotten Son, the perfect image of the Father.  Their mutual intimacy and love begets from all of eternity the Holy Spirit, the third person in the Divine Being, which contains from eternity the immensity of love between the Eternal Father and the Eternally Begotten Son.  The eternity Father Andrzej is referring to here means nothing created yet.  God would not be love if there would be nothing to love.

One of the benefits of being a cantor is I often hear a Sunday homily more than once, or I hear different homilies at different Masses on the same Sunday.  At the 5:00 PM Mass on Sunday, Father Patrick Elliot pointed out that the Church baptizes in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, not in the names of the three persons.  The one God is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  

"Our baptism in the name of the Trinity ... means that we are to participate, that is to say, we are called to participate in the life of God, into an intimate relationship with God, to join in the circle of love which is God.  This is how Christians experience God:  the Father who creates and sustains us, the Son who is our Savior, who gives Himself completely for us, and then the Spirit who lives within us.  Why?  To animate us, to guide us, and to direct us in our daily lives."

Father Andrzej stated at the beginning of his homily that sometimes we do not give as much thought to the Sign of the Cross as we should.  If we strive truly to live our lives in the mystery of the Trinity, we need to begin by being mindful of the mystery we profess when we say, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen."

New Beginnings

In the coming weeks we will be looking at revitalizing this blog.  As with any new beginning, there will be stops and starts, things that work, and things that don't.  The first order of business is an introduction.

My name is Sarah Maland.  I am lifelong member of St. Ambrose Parish.  I have been involved in the parish from a young age, serving as an altar server for three years, assisting my mother as a classroom aide in religious education for three years, singing in the choir since 2003 and serving as a cantor since 2008.  I recently took on a position with the parish in Homebound and Bereavement as well as management of our parish online communications.  I will be posting to the blog as St. Ambrose.  I am excited to get started!

I attended the Madeleine Choir School from 1997-2001, and I had the privilege of studying religion with Mr. Gregory Glenn.  I went on to attend Judge Memorial for high school, Westminster College in Salt Lake City for my bachelor's and master's degrees, and Silver Lake College of the Holy Family in Wisconsin for further music studies after receiving my master's.  My professional background is in special education.  I worked as a classroom aide in a Kindergarten-first grade classroom for students with autism, learning disabilities, and/or physical disabilities for two and a half years, and as a classroom teacher for students with autism and learning disabilities.  Most recently, I was an aide at Blessed Sacrament's Blessed Beginnings Daycare, which opened in September 2017.

My vision for the blog is a space to share faith resources and inspirational stories, as well as personal observations.  Interaction is encouraged.  You are welcome to leave comments on posts and converse with others who do so. 

Please keep in mind, this is a Catholic space.  Please be respectful of others in your interactions.

Final Destiny

When my cousin was young, she spent a lot of time in the closet.  Not because she liked it there, especially.  Mostly it was to give my aunt Stephanie a few minutes of respite from her antics.

 It really wasn’t so bad in the closet, which was actually a tiny room with a comfortable chair, a window that opened, and books and blankets and pillows.  And a door.  The door was always closed unless the closet was occupied, since, unlike a bedroom door, which opens in to the room, this one opened out to the hallway, blocking traffic. 

My cousin was a bright, inquisitive, and determined preschooler who was very creative, and very fast.  And thus, long before the term “time out” was coined, she spent many an afternoon “in the closet.”

One summer afternoon, so the story goes, my cousin was outside playing.  I can picture her, with her dark curly hair and rosy cheeks, a chubby bundle of energy happily immersed in some shenanigan or another. 

Aunt Stephanie had learned long before to keep one ear tuned to the tell tale sounds of mischief in the making.  It had been awhile, and Aunt Stephanie had heard neither whisper nor word from my cousin.  Just as she was beginning to wonder what trouble the silence was signaling, she heard the screen door slam, followed by the sound of little feet running across the hard wood floor.  Before Aunt Stephanie could reach the living room, she heard my cousin call out exuberantly, “Open up the door, Steph, I’m coming in!”

I love that story, which for  years  has been told over and over at family reunions and

get-togethers.  I love that my cousin was absolutely certain about the end result of her

behavior.  She knew beyond the shadow of a doubt where she would end up, and she accepted the outcome with her typical enthusiasm.

That’s how I want it to be when I die.  I want to know, without a doubt, where I’m going and why.  I want the assurance that I will be spending eternity in the most wonderful place in all of creation.  And when my time comes, I want to call out with joyful confidence, “Open up the gates, Lord, I’m coming in!”

Yet, I have doubts.  I have a little voice in my head that tells me I’m not good enough, not holy enough, not prayerful enough.  I yell at my kids, I swear when I get cut off in traffic, and once when I was five years old, I stole my cousin’s eraser. 

But here’s the thing.  God, in His infinite mercy, has made provisions for slackers like me.  The bible tells us, “The Lord our God is merciful and forgiving, even though we have rebelled against him” (Daniel 9:9)  ;

See?     

John 1:9 promises, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”

So, when I hear those little voices, when I mess up on a day-to-day basis, I know it is important to silence those voices.   I must not let myself be defeated.  Instead, I need to confess my sins, thank God for His loving mercy, and rest assured that when my time comes, I’ll call out ahead, “Open up the gates, Lord, I’m on my way!”

Do you feel defeated by sin and bad habits?  What helps you to stay positive and  to keep trying?  What helps you to remember that you are a child of the Lord who is waiting to welcome you with open arms?

Crippled Birds

A few days ago my husband and I saw a robin in our yard.  One of its feet was broken and his body was swollen.  He could fly a little, but not well.  We watched the bird for a while, debating whether there was anything we could do.  We realized we couldn’t.  It was going to die and soon.  We didn’t know if the cold weather or a predator would get it first.  We couldn’t even bring it in to the warmth of the house to make it comfortable until it died.  It flew just well enough to keep away from us.

Lately I have been feeling like that crippled bird.  Hobbling around trying to do my best while just barely staying out of reach of my enemies.  Cats waiting to pounce, larger birds looking for an easy meal, or just the cold weather wearing on me.

I feel like I’m watched, and I would like someone to come to my rescue to help and protect me.  But instead they’re just watching and placing bets on how long I’ll last.  It doesn’t feel like it will be very long.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who has felt like this.  Life is not easy.  When we are feeling down, crippled, hurt and broken, we just want someone to come and make everything easy.  To rescue us.

That’s when prayer is the most important tool we have.  We do have someone who is always there.  The battle might not go away and we might still feel broken, but Jesus will always be at our side, enduring everything with us.  We are not alone in the cold.

So for the One who keeps His eye on the sparrow, please keep Your eye on me.  Give me the strength to continue.  Be with this “crippled bird” until we join You in our eternal home.

Do you ever feel completely vulnerable or alone?  What do you do in those times?

Come Lord Jesus

Come Lord Jesus

Fr Andrzej Skrzypiec homily, 1st Sunday of Advent, 8:30AM Mass

A NEW YEAR in the Church’s calendar begins today. Happy new year to all!

This period is appropriately called “Advent”.  It comes from the Latin word adventus which simply means ‘coming’.  But what or whose coming are we talking about? 

Actually, at this time we can speak of three comings of God. 

·       The first, is when Jesus, the Son of God came to be born in the stable at Bethlehem. 

·       But today’s Mass also speaks of the final coming of Jesus at the end of the world. 

·       And there is still a third kind of coming we need to be aware of, namely, when God enters our lives every day. 

Every single experience can be an opportunity to make contact with God.  And we are reminded of that ongoing contact with God especially in the celebration of the sacraments, including this Eucharist.

The Church is pleading with us be vigilant to the many ways in which Jesus, through his Spirit, is coming into our lives now, filling our hearts with grace and inviting us to a closer union with God and to a more loving relationship with others.

Isaiah reminds us that our God is faithful to us always and knows about the situation we are in.  Our God is always moving to bring us together. 

-What is the coming together? 

Isaiah says, “that God may instruct us in his ways, and we may walk in his paths.” 

Our only real hope of coming together is to come together in greater fidelity to our God.  The closer we come to our God, the closer we will come toward each other.  It will no longer be about a winning and losing – about victory over the other..  When this hope-filled unity comes, Isaiah says,

“They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks;

one nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again.”

Each of us can find a desire in our hearts that sings, “Let us go rejoicing” to this kind of communion and peace. 

St. Paul says, it is a time for us to “wake from sleep.”  This is a season to “throw off” many things that are all about darkness and to “put on the armor of light,” to “put on the Lord Jesus Christ.”

I guess there are dark areas in all of our lives.  Things we do, things we say, things we think, the indulging of our lower and self-centered appetites; things which we would not like other people to know about because they are quite wrong.  They do no good to me or to others.

But there is also goodness in all of us that God with his grace can release and intensify.

Advent is about recognizing that God is already with us and in us.  All we have to do is to be awake to God’s presence in our hearts.

How do we do that?

We do it through our personal prayer, prayer with the community at the Eucharistic table, through acts of charity and love by which we will the good of the other.

This wonderful season is about recognizing our own weakness yet feeling how deeply God cares for us, even in our deepest failings. Our renewed preparation to follow Christ might start with a sense of obligation or fear. But as we grow closer to him we begin to follow him out of love. Our fear is purified by love. We are faithful to the gospel out of a real desire to be closer to him.

Could this Advent season be one in which I give myself to more opportunities for togetherness, for bridge building?  We can indeed get involved in building bridges in our divided nation or even in the world with all its problems.

Sometimes genuine healing and reconciliation needs to begin  in our families by letting light into places of darkness.

Concretely, can this Advent be about continuing gestures of love for a spouse who often bugs me? 

Can this be a time to reach out to the adult child who has disappointed me – whom I might have hurt by my judgments? 

What nice, caring, generous things can I do that build a bridge, without recalling a hurt or continuing my finger pointing?

Then I can move a little further:

 Is there a friend or neighbor or church community member I have recently fought with about our differing opinions about something?  Could a coffee or tea together be a time to let Advent come alive by spending time saying that our relationship is more important than our differing ideas?

As we find these ways of preparing, we can pray, with growing desire, “Come, Lord Jesus.  We await your coming.  Come O Lord. If we are closer to you we will be closer to one another”

Marana Tha - Come Lord Jesus.