Bragging rights

I'm going to take advantage of this time and space sitting before me and do a little bragging. I know that lots of people may say this, but when I say it, it is actually true. I have the best friends and family. That ever lived. In all of my struggles and tears and frustrations in the past month, not once did I ever feel completely alone. Whenever I chose to unburden myself, I was more often than not offered a number to call at any time of the day or night by people who actually meant it; people who would have arisen groggy and half-asleep to listen to me whine and complain. It blows my mind, and it leaves me to wonder how often I have been that compassionate and kind when others have really needed me. I can think specifically of a few times when I did not reach out as I should have, and I am definitely regretting them. It's amazing, though, the incredible outpouring of love that I have received. I don't really have friends here yet (aside from my friars!) so I have been spending lots of time on the phone. People have been so generous with their time.

[I just realized that parts of the above paragraph were already published in the "All you need is love" post. I apologize for repeating myself, but maybe that will help express how truly and deeply I have been touched by those who have been so good to me.]

The gospel today is the parable about the day laborers who begin work at different times during the day, but all end up receiving the same wage. The message is that God gives and loves so generously, that merely by existing we are entitled to it. The good, the bad, and the ugly are all loved with the same love. Naturally, this can be infuriating to some of the good because they work hard to be good, but then end up with the same "reward" as the bad and the ugly. The thing is that love is not a reward. It is not something that is deserved; it is something that is given freely to whoever wants it. It has been the same way with the love and generosity I have been receiving lately. I haven't done anything to necessarily deserve all this love, yet I have been blessed with it all the same. We know that it is not the way of the world that the good should always be given good and the bad always be given bad; what would that teach us about compassion and mercy?

I am reading "Left to Tell" by Immaculee Ilibagiza, her story about surviving the Rwandan genocide. My reading it goes perfectly with the gospel. She details her personal struggles with faith throughout the violence of the war, and her initial inability to forgive those who were killing her family and friends. It was only after intense prayer experiences that she was able to view the killers as children of God who had been led astray and therefore, as such, deserving of her love and forgiveness. She is so inspirational-she was completely honest about her faith journey and feelings during the entire ordeal. She hid in a tiny bathroom with 5 other women for 3 months before being liberated. Her faith was constantly under attack, but she managed to maintain it through prayer. I absolutely recommend this book; it was required reading for St. Bonaventure freshmen, and everyone on campus is talking about it. It has been brought up here in reflections in the chapel on numerous occasions. Ilibagiza spoke at Siena's graduation this past year, and will be coming to SBU in November. I can't wait to hear her speak.

I hope you all are well. Thank you so much for your love and support; it has gotten me through a lot, and it continues to strengthen and heal me.

Love is in the air

Yesterday I wrote that I had been thinking about love and now it appears as though I am doomed to continue thinking about it whether I want to or not. Bear with me while I give you a little background. Today, Franciscans celebrated the feast of Francis receiving the stigmata. Two of Francis' greatest desires in life were to experience the love Jesus felt for us, and also to experience the pain that Jesus went through for us. He became the first person ever recorded to actually receive the wounds of Christ, thereby fulfilling one of his desires. It really is beautiful how Francis bore the extreme pain of these wounds, all for the love of God and man.

Students came up to the Mountain this evening for a little relaxation, a home-cooked meal, and Mass. I had been asked to help by opening the homily and, when I looked at the readings for the day, I was blown away. The first reading was (what else could it be?) 1 Corinthians 12:31-13:13 which contains the famous lines "if I have all faith so as to move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, love is not pompous...Love never fails." This was replaced, though, by a different reading in Franciscan circles because of the feast. I was amazed by the idea that that could be the reading. I was kicking around ideas with Br. Kevin before dinner about the homily and he seemed to have some good ones that actually pertained to the feast day, so I asked him to speak instead of me. When I heard his words, I was again blown away. He spoke of God's boundless love for us in sending his son, and the need for Jesus to die in the excruciating, humiliating way in which he did so that we could let him in to those parts of us that we find humiliating and excruciating. I wish I could remember all of his words because they were beautiful and left the entire chapel speechless for a few moments. It got me thinking about how we are called to love, and therefore are forced to face those parts of ourselves and others which are viewed as awful and embrace them, knowing that we all have that in common. Again, love is a huge responsibility to take on. And, like the stigmata, it can be incredibly painful but it is most definitely a gift.

All you need is love. (Really?)

I took a hiatus from blogging for a lot of reasons. First, because things got crazy(er than usual) with all of the good-bye-ing and the last ditch efforts to do everything I wanted to do while living in Philadelphia (it didn't happen). From Philly, I spent a night at home then went directly to the summer camp where I had spent the previous 4 summers. My feelings there were a mixture of what-am-I-doing-here and it-feels-like-I-never-left. From camp, I went on a cruise with Katelyn and her family. We stopped in St. Thomas and St. Martin. Again, there were mixed feelings: don't-worry-I-can-bus-my-own-table and gosh-it's-nice-to-be-taken-care-of. From the Caribbean, I went to Casey's house for a week and then, finally, my own house for a week. Both places had their own mixtures of feelings that are not as simply broken down, so we shall leave it by saying that both were good places to be at the time.
Now, I am living and working at Mount Irenaeus (http://mounti.com/), which will simply be called "the Mountain" from now on. Talk about mixed feelings; or rather, the dominant feeling being distressed. I am doing better now, and I'm realizing it may take me a while to get used to this new lifestyle. So, the plan is to be patient with myself, and learn and experience as much as possible. Now onto the real subject of this blog...
It's strange having a job where my love for others, instead of being constantly tested and stretched to its very limits, is constantly reaffirmed. I love the students I work with, and I want to do my very best for them. I love the men with whom I am living; they are genuinely Christian and human and crazy, which are probably three of the best adjectives I could ever use to describe people. In the struggles I have been having with this transition, I have experienced an absolute downpour of love from those I am closest to. My parents and friends could not be more supportive and loving. When told that I was having difficulty sleeping for a few weeks, I was more often than not told, and by people who really meant it, to pick up the phone at any hour of the day or night just so I did not have to be alone. My rantings and whinings were listened to by sympathetic ears, and by people who certainly had other things to do. I have had difficulty in the past reaching out and asking for help, but these people made it so that I didn't even need to ask. Amazing.
So, I've been thinking a lot about love lately. Much of it has centered around two incredible statements I've heard in the past year. Fr. Bill at the Inn said in a homily once, "You can't have love without forgiveness, and you can't have forgiveness without love." Br. Kevin here at the Mountain said in a shared homily that "There is no such thing as conditional love." He went on to say that when you place conditions on love you turn it into a business transaction and then, obviously, it is no longer love. Both of these ideas keep coming back into my mind as I begin anew here, and reflect on my past year at the Inn. What a huge responsibility it is, to love other human beings. Sometimes it is just something that comes so easily it pours out of you; other times it must be a conscious decision. That decision can be so difficult sometimes. I think, though, that is where the true beauty of love lies, in that people are willing to take that difficult path of being kind and loving, rather than the quick and easy path of being cruel and full of hate.

PS. I've been waiting to use this as the title for a blog entry for a long time. Both the song and the statement alone have been significant in various areas of my life. I once sang it at the top of my lungs in the quad at Siena; I've been known to text it at opportune moments to certain friends of mine. This one's for you :)