Echoes and other Prayers

After watching a movie about Archbishop Oscar Romero from El Salvador, watching my fellow parishioners prepare to leave the Cathedral of St. Matthew the Apostle had a greater poignancy than I had imagined as I rushed down Connecticut Avenue.

Here were men, women, children all gathered on the steps of the Cathedral after the 1:00 PM Sunday Mass. Here was hope, enthusiasm, and love. It was a moment of wonderful fellowship.

Watching the signs and banners move from hand to hand, overhearing bits of conversation some in Spanish, some in English I was happy to be a part of this moment.

What a wonderful procession we made as we walked down Rhode Island Avenue. A child carrying a cross lead the procession. The American flag was there also, blowing this way and that way according to the wind.

The US Treasury Building was briefly our backdrop as our group merged with other groups united for this cause, immigration reform. We chanted in Spanish. We chanted in Spanish. We were able to see the Washington Monument in the distance. We were able to stop traffic, march across Constitution Avenue. We passed the remnants of Saturday's antiwar rally.

And as we marched onto the Mall, I could almost hear one of Archbishop Romero's homilies.

And, like everyone who has the smallest degree of foresight, the slightest capacity for analysis, the church has also to denounce what has rightly been called 'structural sin:' those social, economic, cultural, and political structures that effectively drive the majority of our people onto the margins of society.
(Archbishop Oscar Romero Aug. 6, 1977)

Laetare Vespers, Cathedral of Saint Matthew the Apostle

Cathedral of Saint Matthew the Apostle Stewardship Sunday 2009

Saint Matthew's Cathedral Health Fair

Wednesday In the City

Wednesday afternoon was quite interesting. The weather was pleasant, the sky clear. It was a moment animated by a slowly building hope. At last it seemed as if winter was finally over. Each second seemed to pull the warm temperatures of spring closer. The Cathedral asked the faithful to stop by for Reconciliation.

How patiently the sign waited on the sidewalk as pedestrians walked by searching for office supplies, searching for food, searching for newspapers and magazine. Every now and then a pair of eyes would notice the sign. Some would slow down, others look up the steps.

And there were fire trucks and taxicabs speeding by. And there were people talking of health care, talking of salad, talking of confession. And there were people talking and laughing about office politics, Spring Break, pub food.

There were people protesting this and that. How wonderful it was to see the plump pink pig standing near the water fountain at the corner of the street. How amazing what a difference one plump pink pig could make as several people stopped to taking photographs and videos with their cell phones, with their cameras.

Restaurant windows were filled with individual characters, colorful and animated and yet―

This was a time of motion, of anxious activity. This was a time of looking around, thinking of times past, listening to honking horns, listening to chattering voices, listening to the soft breeze blowing gently, sporadically into some faces.

And some people take time out to sit by and observe the mid day parade.

How great it is to live in the city! How great it is to praise the Lord with all of this activity! How great it is to offer all of this to God! To offer all that eyes see, all that the ears see, all that senses feel―all these and more to God. Lucky are those who find ways to glorify the Lord while doing the ordinary things in their lives. How blessed their lives must be.

The sidewalks are filled with people, people moving, people standing, people gazing, people grazing.

There are people and signs everywhere, signs neon, signs painted, signs handwritten. At times there seems to be more signs than anyone can read and yet―

The need for hope and prayer waits at each intersection, waits within each face observed, each face not observed. The need for peace and love remains constant, remains universal.

And with all of the noise, all of the activity, all of anxiety, all of the angst there is always time to praise and glorify God. There is always time to listen for his call. There is always time to listen to his call.

Remember to praise and glorify the Lord as you walk around the city.

Twilight

Another twilight. Another siren sounds in the distance. Another cool breeze on my skin.

What does it mean to love in deed and truth? Is it something that can be done between going to the gym, the office, the restaurant and then home?

I struggle with being charitable sometimes. I want to help. My imagination prevents me from doing it sometimes with violent, nightmarish blood splattered daydreams from too many true crime and police procedural television shows.

Sometimes I wish there was a faith procedural show which would show us how to find, share, and build our faith.

I think I really began to think honestly about the consequences of my actions, while sitting in a RCIA class and listening to a discussion about original sin. Before that I had not really either accepted or comprehended the definition of original sin as being an intrinsic part of my life, like a symphonic overture.

The sky is really colorless except for a few patches of blue and neon white clouds.

It was a peaceful, wondrous moment, the moment I crossed my chest and received my first blessing from a priest, and I wanted to become a humble servant for God. I did not want to leave St. Matthew's Cathedral. I did not want to return to the chaotic, outside world.

When I Look

I sit on my rooftop. I am able to see the dome of St. Matthew's Cathedral and the Washington Monument when I look to the left. I am able to see the National Cathedral when I look to the right.

The sun is in the western sky now. The sunbeams are warm against my skin. It is July. Sitting and listening to jets ascending into the clear blue sky, listening to the brief, sad falsetto of the city bus breaks being applied, and feeling the cool, breeze touch my skin and the pages of my books.

Right now I am alone on the rooftop. I hear few sounds other than the city buses and the building machinery on the neighboring building. The shadows on the concrete please me. There are no distractions, I am thinking.

Silence and solitude can be dangerous. Thinking can be dangerous. Reflection can be dangerous.

Writing the word dangerous can be very humorous and liberating.

Faith wants us to look inside ourselves, to have an experience that starts in one place and ends in an entirely different private place. Faith encourages and inspires us to carry it to those private places in our hearts in order to allow it to become more personal, more natural. For faith to flourish it must be organic, not forced. It must simply occur.

Faith is irrepressible, necessary, nurturing. There is something definitive yet anonymous about faith which makes it so beautiful, so unifying.

Silence can be calming. Silent reflection allows me to find peace. At some point, I cease to hear my own voice, to think of my problems. Briefly, I just exist, free of every distraction.

I believe that faith encourages us to test ourselves, to move beyond the comfortable and the safe. I could just think these thoughts. That would be the safe thing to do. But sharing them is a little scary.

In our actual daily lives we present the transparency of shared relationships, the singularity of private thought and vision, and the artistry of love. All of these can combine and encourage us to look carefully both inward and outward.

Religious convictions can allow a certain independence from modern hedonism and nihilism. I like the humble heroism of being compassionate, forgiving, merciful. I like encouraging my instinct to do good, to be respectful.

It is a pleasure to think of one aspect of faith.

The sun has gone. The outline of the National Cathedral is visible against the peach colored western sky. There are people around me drinking beer, talking about frozen margaritas, talking of former girlfriends moving to town and looking for places to live, talking of dinners being purchased. There are people laughing, people remembering. A couple sits near me; the woman reads a thick paperback while the man coughs, reads his perfectly folded newspaper and looks nervously toward the sunset.
I sit here quietly thinking, not actually listening.

The evening air is brisk, my arms are getting cold. The lights have come on. In the distance I can hear a siren.

I silently say a prayer.

Moving Forward With Hope & Love

I had intended to write a beautiful essay on social justice. I wanted it to inspire others to action. I planned on adding quotes, creating a learned, entertaining peace.

Instead, I will provide a more personal account. I believe the power of social justice is the personal involvement.

February 12, 2007 is the date of my introduction to Catholic social justice teachings. It is the moment I thought about doing faith based volunteering as an adult. I sent my first email to the Social Justice & Community Services Director at St. Matthew’s Cathedral.

She replied with an immediate thank you. We scheduled a meeting. I began volunteering with the both the Homeless and the English as a Second Language programs.

Going to the Homeless Ministry for the first time did create a little anxiety for me. But, within a few minutes it was gone. The other volunteers were friendly and encouraging, the Director was full of energy and inspiring and the clients were well behaved.

The Homeless Ministry encapsulated the teachings of the Catholic Church. Here hope and love collided with suffering and destitution. The Homeless Ministry reminded me that there are no differences between people, everyone wants to be treated with dignity and respect.

Being a volunteer allowed me to see a part of life which I completely ignored as I kept myself busy running errands, going to work. I was able to see some of my own prejudices and personal nonsense which I began to challenge.

The Monday morning’s with the Homeless Ministry allowed me to put into practice church teachings and helped me to begin to pray for people beyond my closed circle. Whether I was taking names at the door, putting fruit on a plate, or arranging clothes on a table, it all contributed to a desire to do more, to want to do more.

And the other volunteers and the Director created an atmosphere of hope and love, a welcoming space for everybody.

Social justice can be obtained only in respecting the transcendent dignity of man (CCC no, 1929).

The beauty of volunteering for God occurs when you let go of yourself, let go your fears and expectations and just do what God asks of you. Sometimes it might just be serving a warm casserole or listening to someone or searching for the mate to a size 14 shoe.