These For-get-me-nots are blooming along the edge of the woods here. Also known as Mary's-Eyes, these sweet, humble, ground covering plants are vigorous self-seeders, turning up where they were not planted. Some gardeners would write them off as an invasive species and to be yanked out. I find them charming in their loveliness and their meaning.
But I want my religion to be much more than admiration: admiration for Jesus, admiration for Mary and the saints, admiration for the natural world. I want my religion to grow-me-up. Grow-me-up religion is a challenge, even a personal threat. It offers a new vision; a new way of thinking and seeing. Maybe Mary had that when at Cana she told Jesus, "They have no more wine." Admiration religion says, "Oh, Mary was so sensitive." But wine in the ancient world of Judaism was symbolic of an alive, creative life with a living God. So get it — running out of wine at a wedding could very well mean that the marital relationship of God with his people is exhausted, empty, run out. In a full length interview some years ago, Pope Benedict XVI said this of the Church in Europe - "It is exhausted." That doesn't mean the priests and nuns are tired from working so hard; it means the religion itself is empty and spent.
This little flower ought to call to mind the many times Jesus asks us to wake up and see. Maybe we need to wake up and see ourselves truly, without deception. A young man, recently relocated, said of his new state, "We're just soft, overfed consumers here."
But I want my religion to be much more than admiration: admiration for Jesus, admiration for Mary and the saints, admiration for the natural world. I want my religion to grow-me-up. Grow-me-up religion is a challenge, even a personal threat. It offers a new vision; a new way of thinking and seeing. Maybe Mary had that when at Cana she told Jesus, "They have no more wine." Admiration religion says, "Oh, Mary was so sensitive." But wine in the ancient world of Judaism was symbolic of an alive, creative life with a living God. So get it — running out of wine at a wedding could very well mean that the marital relationship of God with his people is exhausted, empty, run out. In a full length interview some years ago, Pope Benedict XVI said this of the Church in Europe - "It is exhausted." That doesn't mean the priests and nuns are tired from working so hard; it means the religion itself is empty and spent.
This little flower ought to call to mind the many times Jesus asks us to wake up and see. Maybe we need to wake up and see ourselves truly, without deception. A young man, recently relocated, said of his new state, "We're just soft, overfed consumers here."
In the May 3, 2020 issue of The New York Times Sunday Magazine section there was an article by Linda Villarosa reporting on the racial disparities of Covid-19 deaths in America. Here are two responses that reveal new seeing.
Reading "Who Lives? Who Dies?" brought tears to my eyes as the writer eloquently laid out why African-Americans are at greater risk of dying not just from Covid-19 but from other chronic and infectious diseases, and the impact of these on the families in New Orleans. I have worked as a public health professional for over 50 years and found public health efforts have had little impact on decreasing the health disparities between white and black Americans. Only massive system changes will make a difference, and I see little chance that the American majority is interested in change. Baltimore
What a stunning article. I had to reread many portions to let it all sink in. One of the most incredible ideas is that the stress of being black can affect people so severely. The good coming out of this virus will be people becoming aware of the massive inequalities in the U.S., and the absolute necessity of a health care system for everyone, free to everyone, as a human right. Americans are learning, perhaps for the first time, about other countries and their health care systems. This will certainly be an eye-opener to many. Mexico City
We're so divided now in this country, someone might say, "Oh, these letters sound like pinko socialism." I wouldn't agree. I'd say they sound like the Gospel of Jesus Christ — the Incarnation — Christmas — the Madonna — the God who made the universe has come into our world with human eyes to show us how to see. See what? Jesus is always looking at people in their vulnerability and loss. Even through infant-eyes, the first people he sees from the manger are the marginalized shepherds — God's anawim (the broken, powerless, empty, bent over ones.)
