Oops! God, Have Mercy, I Goofed Again

Sunday's gospel (Luke 18:9-14) was all about humility. The pharisee proudly reminds God how well he has kept His commandments. The tax collector, in shame, hides in a corner and begs God's mercy. Fr. K's homily began with a reminder that once we think we have humility, we've lost it. His hint couldn't have come at a better time. More than one of us had goofed up that very day.

After Mass, several of us were discussing our humbling experiences during our monthly community meal. I had started things out by jumping into the Gloria, before the Kyrie was chanted.  My guitar player pointed out my mistake and I stealthily retrieved my chapel veil from my bag and covered my humbled head. Next, our second reader forgot "The Word of the Lord", at the end of his reading, because it ended in "Amen". I had to smile. I was no longer alone in my shame. The final humiliation was that sticky key on my flute, which naturally decided to stick in the middle of a solo. I guess I'd better get that fixed. At least the organ didn't blare out of tune like it did last Sunday...

We make plenty of little mistakes all the time. Usually we play through them and nobody notices. Sometimes they are very obvious and amplified by the presence of a microphone and a large group of people in front of us. As my friend Joan commented, "God must have needed a good laugh today". Always happy to oblige.

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The Sunday There Was No Mass

Come Aside and Rest Awhile

Just A Little Bit

Still Bucking the New Translation - Really??

Thanks to Dr. Jerry Galipeau's excellent blog, Gotta Sing, Gotta Pray, I actually have a "keep it simple" topic  for today;)  Due to all the uproar about the New Translation, and also due to my continuing efforts to be a passable music director for my parishes, I try to follow Dr. Jerry's blog.  He has been involved with publishing liturgical music for years, and his posts are usually informative and entertaining.  For several months now, he has been posting on issues with the New Translation of the Roman Missal, on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  I take a look every once in awhile.  The New Translation was mandated for use beginning in Advent of last year.  Six months later, people are still arguing its pros and cons.  Personally, though I like the New Translation, it would really make no difference to me if we went back to the old.

Okay, so I'm an oddball.  Part of me is traditional.  I wear the chapel veil.  I think the music for Mass should be dignified hymns or soft, inspirational melodies and chant, not "praise and worship, rock my world" stuff.  I prefer the tabernacle to be behind the altar, and the church to be dark and quiet, respectful, prayerful.  So I don't always get my way.  I like to hear Mass in my primary language, but I want to share the joy with my friends who don't speak or understand English so well, so I embrace the bi-lingual Mass, and can even muddle through a bit of Spanish.  Luckily I can play the flute and the organ in both Spanish and English. (yeah, some dumb humor;)  As a returned-fallen-away Catholic, I'm there for Mass.  Mass is the sacrifice of Jesus Body and Blood for my salvation.  Holy Communion is the common union with my fellow Mass-goers, and by extension the whole church, and hopefully one day the whole world, as the Body of Christ.

I go to Mass to hear the Word of God proclaimed and taught.  I want to learn how to be a better person.  I go to Mass to receive Holy Communion, Jesus entering into union with me to strengthen and transform me.  To remind me of my connection with that guy over there whose manners I find repulsive (hmm...is pride any better?).  And the lady whose dress is too short and too low cut (didn't I used to dress like that myself?)  And the family who only shows up on Palm Sunday (there were a few years when I didn't show up at all).  I don't go to bicker over this word here or that word there.  I'll let the pope and the cardinals and the bishops and their committees worry about all that stuff.  Life is too complicated.  For this simple-minded Catholic, I'll take Dr. Jerry's advice - gotta sing, gotta pray.  Nuff said.

First Saturday Devotions - Substance or Superstition?

Today is the first Saturday of June.  My dad's roses are blooming profusely.  After so many Marian celebrations last month, my thoughts have turned to the First Saturdays and how they got started.  It's been a few years since Catholic school, and I live out in the sticks, where we're lucky to have "daily" Mass once a week.  So I did a little research on the First Saturdays.

The "official" First Saturday Marian Devotions with their attendant "promises" originated with the apparitions of Our Blessed Mother to the children at Fatima.  But Saturday had already long been a special day of devotion to Our Lady.  According to Marian Devotions in the Domestic Church, by the ninth century, Saturday devotion to Mary had already become popular.  Marian Catechist explains that, according to several theologians of the 12th and 13th centuries,  " Mary continued to believe, demonstrating her deep faith by never doubting for a moment her Son’s promise of resurrection".  They also give several other reasons and traditions for Saturday Masses being dedicated to Mary before Fatima.  So, long tradition.  

Okay, what about post-Fatima?  My favorite take on our current practice of this devotion is at the Bearing Blog.  I can totally relate to the author's reference to superstition and selfish intentions.  I returned to wearing the brown scapular and the chapel veil a few years ago.  As I put on or remove my scapular, I dedicate myself to Mary, and ask her to help me to practice modesty, purity and holiness (I need LOTS of help!).  As I put on my chapel veil for Mass or Eucharistic Devotion, I ask for humility and to remember to try to be of service to the other members of Christ's body.  It really irritates me to hear the scapular promoted as a talisman to protect a person from harm and/or hell.  The scapular in itself is just a piece of brown scratchy cloth.  It is what it symbolizes that is sacramental and only in that is it nourishing to the spiritual life.

In the same way, to complete the Five First Saturdays, including Holy Communion, Confession, fifteen minutes meditation, and five decades of the Rosary, just to benefit from the Promises - that Our Lady will "assist at the hour of death with all the graces necessary for salvation",  seems abhorrent to me.  On the surface.  More on that in a few lines.  For one thing, there is a fifth requirement to the fulfillment of the Promise - that the devotion be performed "with the intention of making reparation for the sins committed against the Immaculate Heart of Mary".  Someone who isn't sincere, will not be able to complete all Five Saturdays without this intention.  Even if one starts without that intention, it seems to grow on you in the practice.  Secondly, look at the promise.  What are the "graces necessary for salvation"?  Ponder that.  This devotion is not just another easy ticket into heaven.

So what about the superficial motive of performing the devotion just to benefit from the Promise?  When I was a child in Catholic school I performed many of the various recommended devotions our rich and ancient tradition makes available to us.  I was sincere and devout about them at the time.  I stored up a few treasures in heaven.  Then I became a teenager and then an adult.  I finally went the way of the world, and even left the church for a few years.  What's my point?  I came back.  I returned hungry for the Eucharist.  Starved for teaching and direction for following Jesus.  I came back with a desire to amend my life and be a better person.  Was it because of all those novenas I made as a child?  Was it because of all the prayers of my parents and loved ones?  

Certainly I'm not any more special than any other child of the Father.  I can't offer any tangible proof, but I'm certainly not going to discount the power of a Promise.  I hope I have a ways to go before I have need of that final assistance.  Making another round of Five First Saturdays would undoubtedly benefit me now, as well as later.

Oregon's Best for Last - Mt. Hood, Pendleton and its' Woolen Mills

Mt. Hood from back of Timberline Lodge - still has snow in August.

Our last day in Portland, we took a day trip to Mount Hood, our destination, the Historic Timberline Lodge.  Constructed by the Works Progress Administration, during the years 1936-37, the lodge is a masterpiece of old-time craftsmanship.  I highly recommend the free tour of the lodge.  Our Forest Service volunteer guide cheerfully imparted volumes of historical information about the building, as well as pointing out many unique features.  All the rocks and lumber used in the building were procured locally and hand cut and milled on site.  That's not where it ends.  While the men were laboring to build the gargantuan structure at Timberline, the women were ensconced in barracks a few miles away, spinning, weaving and sewing all the textiles to be used in the lodge's rugs, draperies and upholstery.  Men were also handcrafting furniture, light fixtures and other decor for the lodge.  Textiles were made from locally produced flax and wool; rugs hooked from used cotton fabrics; iron railings and lamp fixtures were made from scrap iron.  Mosaics were fashioned from scrap glass and tile.  The creative talents and pride in workmanship of the builders and crafters are still in evidence.

Wall Mosaic in lobby of Timberline Lodge

On our way out of Oregon, we spent the night in Pendleton. The following morning was Sunday, and we attended Mass at St. Mary's Catholic Church.  The service was memorable, in that it was one of the few I have ever attended outside of a Tridentine church, where the women nearly all wore chapel veils and modest dresses, the men mostly wore suits or trousers and button-down shirts, rather than sportswear.  There was liberal use of inscense, and all the music was chanted, as opposed to folksy performance.  The most touching part of the Mass came, appropriately, at communion time.  The Holy Eucharist was distributed, without exception, to those who came up and knelt at the communion rail, with the altar boy holding the paten under the Eucharist, as it was placed on the tongue.  My 8 year old son, having just received his First Holy Communion a few months before, was visibly taken aback, having never experienced this before.  The priest looked at me and I had to nod that yes, he can receive.  It was such a beautiful and sacred experience, that I wondered why it was ever necessary to change the way we receive Holy Communion.

After Mass, though I don't like to encourage businesses that stay open on Sundays, we went to the Pendleton Woolen Mills.  As we would not be back this way for who knows how long, it was now or never.  I got my first Pendleton from my mom when I was in high school.  The quality of workmanship is so fine that they last forever, so I could not pass up this opportunity to visit the factory in person.  We entered the gift shop, and though we could not take an actual tour of the mills, we were able to watch a video about the production of Pendleton's legendary woolen fabrics, and to browse their selection of fine clothing, accessories and yardage.   As much as I would have liked to have brought home a couple of bolts of fabric, the $40-$80 per yard price made me a happy window shopper instead.  From Pendleton it is just a few miles to Washington, but those adventures will take up an entire post of their own.

Modest Dressing

I am a convert to modest dressing. I have only been conciously trying to dress modestly for about eight years now. Prior to that I was all about fashion and being "appreciated". I have to put that in quotes because the kind of "appreciation" I got was not really what I was looking for. In my pursuit of guidelines for modesty, I ran across a book by Colleen Hammond called "Dressing With Dignity", in which she discusses some very unpleasant but true facts about how we dress and how we are treated. I did some research on my own, and concluded that her evidence was real. In defense of women, I am not just speaking of us, here. Modesty is just as important for men. Women may not be as visual in nature as men, but we do take notice of physical attributes. And in looking around me when I'm out in "the world", I realize just how important it is to encourage our children to dress modestly. I mean, is it really that "cute" when little children run around topless, or a first grader bends over and you can see her entire torso? Do we really think pedophiles are limited to the internet?

While there are many degrees of modesty, from fashionable to frumpy, I think most agree that basic modesty includes covering all cleavage and "privates". This would include not only necklines and waistbands (as opposed to hip bands), but also sleeve lengths and hemlines. Ms. Hammond's book gives one of the best basic guidelines I have found. To paraphrase: a woman's neckline should be such that cleavage is covered and when you bend over you are not giving a display; sleeve length should be long enough that when you lift your arms, you cannot see through to undergarments or what is underneath. Also, fabrics should not be sheer or see-through.

For myself, I prefer dresses and skirts, and I like my hemlines to be mid-calf or below, without slits, wraps or buttons that can inadvertently open to show my legs. I like my legs just fine, but I don't feel I have to show them off to everybody anymore. In cooler weather, I add a layer of leggings and socks under the dress. I prefer my sleeves 3/4 length or longer, I can always roll them up. Again, I wear an extra shirt in cooler weather, a sweater is also an option. I do wear shorter sleeves in hot weather. I do not bear the burden of excessive cleavage, however, I do try to keep my necklines up near that little dip in my collarbone (forget what it's called). Sometimes this involves adding a pin to close a low neckline a bit higher, or wrapping and tying a pretty scarf.

As far as head covering, sometimes I do and sometimes I don't. This is more because of the fact that I have very fine hair that doesn't like to cooperate, and blows wildly in the slightest breeze. I frequently wear scarves and hats, and have always enjoyed them. I always try to wear a chapel veil in church, though there are many times I forget, and once in a while choose not to. But that is a whole 'nuther issue.

Swimsuits are a challenge. Though there are many options and offerings for modest clothing, there is a severe lack of choices in the swimsuit area. I love to swim, and for years now, I have been wearing long shorts and a long sleeved tshirt to swim. I have tried different materials, but unfortunately, the skin tight spandex seems to be the best choice for comfort, quick drying, and coverage. Lately I have run across some great styles in modest swimwear, and hope to make a new modest swimsuit for myself for next year. My favorite style is from Simply Modest, and consists of leggings ending just below the knee, and a tunic style shirt with short sleeves (which could be lengthened) and the tunic ending just a few inches above the knee, thereby covering the hip and buttocks area. I am not sure how this would do in the water, but from my experience with the tshirts, I believe the spandex on the torso would stay put, while the longer area may ride up in the water, but could be smoothed back down upon exiting. Another trick to keep in mind here, is choosing a patterned material for the top to de-emphasize the cling, and a solid, darker color for the leggings, for a slimming effect. As for men and boys, I appreciate the long, baggy trunks, held up, of course, to cover their "cleavage", and the mesh shirts, popular for many sports are preferable, in my opinion, to a bare chest. On a purely practical level, the more covered you are, the less need for sunscreen.

So there you have it - my take on modest dressing. Now that I'm started, I'm sure I'll have more to say in future posts.