Friday is the Feast of Saint Kateri Tekawitha, called the Lily of the Mohawks./ We ask for the protection of native populations in every place,/ and that reparations would be made to them where justice requires it./ We pray to the Lord.
We pray for those who form the different levels of government in our country:/ may their consciousness serve the needs of all;/ may their consciences be informed by the truth./ We pray to the Lord.
We entrust to the God of good purpose and conversion:/ conmen, dealers,/ manipulators,/ murderers,/ liars,/ thieves,/ haters and obstructionists./ We pray to the Lord.
For our families and friends,/ we pray for safety,/ health,/ gratitude and acceptance./ For those who are out of work,/ who can't make ends meet,/ who are down on their luck,/ feeling sad or hopeless./ We pray to the Lord.
We pray for summer travelers,/ For those who work outdoors,/ whose work is dangerous or exhausting./ For those who get no time off during the summer./ We pray to the Lord.
We pray that every child would be welcomed and loved./ For those who work on behalf of children who are orphaned,/ thrown away,/ injured,/ out of school,/ exploited or trapped./ We pray to the Lord.
For those we have known or loved over the years who have died,/ those who die un-mourned or with no prayer offered for them./ For those who die a sudden or sad death./ And that we would be given all we need for our own salvation./ We pray to the Lord.
"If you've got gratitude, you've got the whole of the spiritual life." But we have a tendency to complicate things - even the spiritual life. "Keep it simple," AA says. That's good advice.
Some images have the power to elicit from us memories and associations good and bad. I came across this display of zinnias in a Mennonite nursery this spring and was immediately taken back to my boyhood and the first garden I kept which was a sandy 10 X 10 plot behind our suburban home.
Our house was built in the early 1950's on what had been a potato field on Long Island. The good farm-soil had been taken away and all that was left was yellow carpenter's sand. But somehow, zinnia's grew and flowered. I investigated online and even found a picture of the vintage zinnia seed packet I could buy in a catalog for pennies.
Does the picture above bring anything to mind for you - scenes or awareness-es that invite micro-gratitude (gratitude in the details). And where does that take you interiorly? For me...
Gratitude for the doctor and nurses who were in the room when I was born.
Gratitude for Miss O'Mara who calmed me down the first day of kindergarten.
Gratitude for Miss Slomiak who taught me to read.
Gratitude for Sister Vincent who prepared me for First Communion.
Gratitude for the Mrs. Balbo who taught us how to identify types of clouds.
Gratitude for my mother the afternoon she taught me to tie my shoe.
Gratitude for my father who taught me how to genuflect one night in church.
Gratitude for my parish which held an outdoor May Crowning each spring.
Gratitude for Oberlee's Greenhouse which grew long-stemmed carnations for 25 cents.
Gratitude for the nun who gave me my first paper icon.
Gratitude for the brass sanctus bells I rang at the Consecration.
Gratitude for safety the night our family was saved from a terrible car accident.
Gratitude for the first time I saw the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree.
Gratitude for my first visit to Saint Patrick's Cathedral and lit a candle.
It's said, "Hindsight is 20/20." My childhood and teen years were not idyllic, but this gift of the zinnias in the Mennonite nursery invited me to take a look back and to remember again where God was close in the moments that were beautiful, truthful and good. We might all try it out today.
Click on the mountain view to hear Psalm 121 read. Some spiritual commentary follows that might spark our own reflection. These are difficult days - we need some reassurance and reason for hope. Verse 1. We don't know who the speaker is, but we do know it's someone who feels the need for help. Maybe the psalmist has in mind an enemy who is harassing him. I might need help with some health or family problem, or help with loneliness, depression, anxieties, personal loss, addiction, anger, or feeling the inability to let it go. Name it!
And while feeling this need for help, the psalmist lifts up his/her eyes to the mountains, which is the biblical place where we meet and encounter God uniquely. We remember: Mount Sinai, Mount Zion, the Sermon on the Mount, Mount Tabor, the Mount of Olives, Mount Calvary. Looking up to the mountains and hills, the psalmist cries out for divine help.
Some religious people go around with their heads down all the time. "You should hang your head in shame" we might have heard while growing up. "Maintain custody of the eyes" the young nun was taught. But even today at Mass, "Bow down your heads and pray for God's blessing." I don't know about that, why not look up for God's blessing, not to be nosey, but to see what God has in store for us. Perhaps a wonderful surprise!
Verse 2. My help comes from the Lord. This is a statement of great trust. We have lots of help available to us: self-help books, the doctor, the therapist, the rehab center (if needed), the concierge in the hotel lobby, the Internet, the parole officer, the teacher or principal. But when all is said and done, the psalmist declares that God is Helper. Folks in AA know this.
The gospel woman with the hemorrhage, Mary at the Cana-wedding, the centurion with the sick servant, Blind Bartimaeus - they all know it too. God is a helper, the God who created heaven and hearth. And God, who made each of us with care, isn't likely to forget us.
Verses 3 and 4. God won't allow our feet to be moved. There are many people who would be happy to share how God has kept them on their feet when the stresses and troubles of life wanted them down for the count.
And that God watches, but watches like a mother with children at the beach. She wants her children safe and secure. Pope John Paul I prayed: God, you are our father, yet all the more like a mother, who wishes us no harm and has our best interests in mind.
The psalmist continues that our prayers don't wake God up, as if God is asleep on the job. God is like the night watchman - attentive in the dark times. The psalmist even goes further, God not only doesn't sleep, but God doesn't slumber - which means God isn't even distracted, or negligent or lazy in God's attentions.
Some folks are cynical about God who they say, watches and does nothing. I'd say that sounds much more like us. We're the ones who watch and do nothing: while God's garden-paradise becomes a garbage heap, the stabilizing forests are chopped down, the cities are blown up, the children are killed, the people are starving and thirsty - and now the whole thing is out of control and it's getting too late even to talk reasonably about how to remedy it. We needn't blame God; we're the ones who've been just watching for a very long time. Why do you think Jesus in the gospels is always saying, Stay awake! Watch!
Verses 5 and 6. God is shade which is a place of relief, recovery, safety and preservation. The desert mother-bird spreads her wings over the nestlings to keep them from being scorched. Have I ever felt that God had me covered?
And shade at my right hand. God has me pulled in close. I'm not a strange face in the crowd. I'm not anonymous. It matters to God that I exist.
Verses 7 and 8. The Lord shall preserve you from all evil. Oh, I want this to be true. Or better yet, I want to feel and trust more the truth of this little verse. A news commentator said recently: "We live in a dangerous country." Who's packing a gun? Who's crazed or stoned while driving? The commercials want me to have the latest security system against intruders. What's in the water, the air, the food? Is it safe to get on plane, ride the subway, take a walk in a park?
And while I hope for that safety, all the more I want to be kept safe from anything that might take me away from God - spiritual dangers: indifference, selfishness, entitlement, ingratitude, "I've got what I need; the heck with you." What AA calls, "Stinking thinking."
And finally, the Lord watching over my going out and my coming in. This is God with me in the ordinary, the hum-drum, the tedious , the routine and every day. I am never alone. "Look up and see" - that's good spiritual advice.
