Today's gospel was John 21: 1-19 in which Jesus comes to His disciples after he had been raised from the dead and they are all fishing. Their nets are empty and they are basically stinking at the whole fishing gig. Jesus tells them to throw their nets off the other side of the boat and low and behold, they catch a lot of fish. Then, they look on the shore and there's Jesus, just chillin' on the beach with some fish cooking over the fire. The disciples go and join Him and Jesus tells them to tend to His sheep, to watch His flock.
I am reminded of Matthew 4:19 - " He said to them, Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men" during this time because when Jesus first gathers His posse, He does so in Matthew 4:19 when they're fishing. Now, in the end, He meets them once again, fishing. And the message He has to send is about the same, take care of my people, evangelize, spread the good word, but most of all, tend to them, love them.
I clearly cannot fish and I certainly am not the best speaker for the Catholic Church but I can talk about what I do know, what each of us in one way or another, knows: love.
Evangelizing scares me and I don't like it. I feel like it's a heavily weighted word and I just associate negative feelings toward it so when I read these passages, I want to put my own spin on it by thinking, what can I do as a fisherlady? What net could I use? How could I spread more of God's great message (without an agenda) of love, peace, respect, kindness and compassion?
Tackling Jesus' messages can be cumbersome at times because I struggle to break it down into something more attainable for me; something more within my abilities. But today, I think I might've figured out a net I could use. Instead of fishing for people, I want to fish for love. I want to pull the love out of people and expose it for all of its confusing yet wonderful, beauty. In the simplest of ways, do we tell those around us that we love them? Do we tell our friends, family, co-workers, boyfriends/girlfriends why we love them? That's a good start...that's merely casting a net of love and hoping to scoop up some warm fuzzies while doing it.
It's important to take it another step further too, though. We can't just be in the business of fishing for love for ourselves. What good is it if it's not shared? Here's where I really want to stretch my fishing license, I want to point out the love others show each other. For example, stopping one of my students at lunch and asking him/her why they love another student in our class. Or thanking strangers for holding the door for me. Or striking up a conversation with someone who looks lonely or frustrated or tired. Being friendly, being kind, being compassionate, being not just the fisherlady, but also the net of love being thrown out for the world to get caught up in.
Wouldn't it be a beautiful world if everyone was wrapped up in that same net of love and we all strove to be fishers of love instead of pessimism, selfishness, greed or negativity? I pray for that world for my students and for you.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Monday, April 8, 2013
Kinship
Spring break (or as my co-teacher likes to call it, SB13) ended last night. After my trip to Detroit, I didn't really think anything could top my list of awesome experiences, until Sunday night.
I went to Mass at 5:30pm at the more "well to do" church in DC. Only reason I was there was to witness an amazing man speak about his experiences with faith and service. Friends, I had the privilege of meeting and listening to, Fr. Greg Boyle.
If the name doesn't sound familiar that's fine, if it slightly rings a bell, even better. Let me help you. Fr. Greg Boyle founded Homeboy industries in a rough part of LA. 27 years ago he became distraught with the reality that he was burying man after man, homie after homie, because of gang violence and he decided to do something about it. With his calm poise, perfectly timed humor and immense love, he wrote the book, Tattoos on the Heart. I read it last year and fell in love. No other book will ever compare and I highly recommend anyone and everyone to read it.
Fr. G (as the homies call him) presided over Mass and then at 7:30pm hosted a talk about faith and service. The overarching theme being kinship. People kept asking for a formula or a secret answer to make their organization thrive more or their service more pungent and he continuously and patiently responded with: kinship. "When people join a gang, it's not because they have hope, it's not because they have things going for them; it's because they're running away from something, they're lacking hope, they're lacking kinship." -Fr. G
He told a beautiful story about how he had given a talk a few years ago in DC and brought two homies with him. He brought one that had been so badly beaten and mistreated by his mother that he thought he was worth nothing...so he fled to a gang. As this homie and Fr. G toured around DC in their free time, they visited the Holocaust Museum. When they reconvened in the lobby, the homie noticed a man sitting at a table, reading, with an empty chair next to him and a sign that read: "Holocaust Survivor". The homie looked at Fr. G and said, "hey, man, I'm going to go talk to him."
So they began talking and Fr. G stood in the background, a little embarrassed and they listened to this man talk about how he barely survived Auschwitz. He described seeing his sisters murdered and the homie said, "yeah man, I had to watch my best friend get shot." And then the Holocaust survivor described getting beaten for saying one little thing or for being out of line and the homie said, "yeah, my moms used to beat me until I couldn't see straight."
When they were done talking, Fr. G asked the homie, "let me get this straight, you were trying to compare your experiences growing up to this man surviving the Holocaust?"
The homie looked at him and said, "no, man, no. I wasn't trying to compete...I was trying to relate to him."
Kinship.
It's what we all search for. It's what we all long for. It's what the heart needs and desires. There is no secret formula or magic pill to solve the world's problems but their is a basic need a basic desire we each can strive to be for other people: kin. Instead of us vs. them; it's about brotherhood, sisterhood, finding the relation between us all and building kinship out of that.
I went to Mass at 5:30pm at the more "well to do" church in DC. Only reason I was there was to witness an amazing man speak about his experiences with faith and service. Friends, I had the privilege of meeting and listening to, Fr. Greg Boyle.
If the name doesn't sound familiar that's fine, if it slightly rings a bell, even better. Let me help you. Fr. Greg Boyle founded Homeboy industries in a rough part of LA. 27 years ago he became distraught with the reality that he was burying man after man, homie after homie, because of gang violence and he decided to do something about it. With his calm poise, perfectly timed humor and immense love, he wrote the book, Tattoos on the Heart. I read it last year and fell in love. No other book will ever compare and I highly recommend anyone and everyone to read it.
Fr. G (as the homies call him) presided over Mass and then at 7:30pm hosted a talk about faith and service. The overarching theme being kinship. People kept asking for a formula or a secret answer to make their organization thrive more or their service more pungent and he continuously and patiently responded with: kinship. "When people join a gang, it's not because they have hope, it's not because they have things going for them; it's because they're running away from something, they're lacking hope, they're lacking kinship." -Fr. G
He told a beautiful story about how he had given a talk a few years ago in DC and brought two homies with him. He brought one that had been so badly beaten and mistreated by his mother that he thought he was worth nothing...so he fled to a gang. As this homie and Fr. G toured around DC in their free time, they visited the Holocaust Museum. When they reconvened in the lobby, the homie noticed a man sitting at a table, reading, with an empty chair next to him and a sign that read: "Holocaust Survivor". The homie looked at Fr. G and said, "hey, man, I'm going to go talk to him."
So they began talking and Fr. G stood in the background, a little embarrassed and they listened to this man talk about how he barely survived Auschwitz. He described seeing his sisters murdered and the homie said, "yeah man, I had to watch my best friend get shot." And then the Holocaust survivor described getting beaten for saying one little thing or for being out of line and the homie said, "yeah, my moms used to beat me until I couldn't see straight."
When they were done talking, Fr. G asked the homie, "let me get this straight, you were trying to compare your experiences growing up to this man surviving the Holocaust?"
The homie looked at him and said, "no, man, no. I wasn't trying to compete...I was trying to relate to him."
Kinship.
It's what we all search for. It's what we all long for. It's what the heart needs and desires. There is no secret formula or magic pill to solve the world's problems but their is a basic need a basic desire we each can strive to be for other people: kin. Instead of us vs. them; it's about brotherhood, sisterhood, finding the relation between us all and building kinship out of that.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Speramus Meliora - Resurget Cineribus
Speramus Meliora - Resurget Cineribus : "We hope for better things - It will rise from the ashes"
These interesting Latin words are the motto inscribed on the Detroit seal and flag. They were written by Gabriel Richard after the fire of 1805. The fire caused the entire city to burn with only one building saved from the flames. The words intended for the 1805 fire, still ring true today.
As I headed into Detroit, I was excited and nervous to see what the blemish of America would look like. I'm sure you've heard the same things I've heard: crime, poverty, murder, broken glass, danger, etc. When I got there, my brother gave me an incredibly well rounded view of the city.
In its prime, Detroit was the motor capitol of the world. The assembly line, Ford, GM and anything car related was in Detroit. Which in turn, meant it housed over 5 million people at one point. Now, a mere skeleton of the city remains. There are maybe 500,000 people living there now and the motor industry is all but gutted.
We drove through neighborhood after neighborhood of empty, abandoned homes. It was like a bomb had hit and people fled; leaving everything behind. It costs too much to knock the houses down so there they stand, remembering the people who once inhabited them and hoping for better things.
At one point, we drove through Highland Park. The most impoverished part of Detroit. They have no electricity for their street lights because it costs too much and the schools have all shut down. It was crazy to think that kids currently lived here, did their homework here, played here, ate dinner with their families here, all while nestled among the abandoned homes and darkened street lights.
But, amidst the shambles and the emptiness, was hope. People turning empty lots into gardens, people making abandoned homes into artwork, people trying to rebuild, trying to rise from the ashes. It reminded me of a way larger scale of Bridgeport, CT.
On Easter, we went to Mass at a church that my brother had warned me about. He said, "Katie, last time I was here, you could see the sky through the roof because of all the holes. So if it rains, pick a seat with a roof over it." So when we walked in, I was humbled by the simplicity of the church and awe struck by the warmth I felt. Each parishioner greeted us and made us feel welcome. At the sign of the peace, it was a good 15 minutes of EVERYONE greeting each other and wishing them a happy Easter. I felt love. I felt warmth. I felt hope; right there, in the ashes.
Coming away from Detroit, my views are changed. Yes, it probably is dangerous. But we can't shy away from a city that needs so much support. They don't need my sympathy, they don't need my love, they have plenty of that. There's so much Detroit pride that I can't help but want to be swept up in it. The people are beautiful, the strength is admirable and the warmth of 500,000 in a city that swallows them whole is unlike any other warmth I've ever felt, even if it is having to fight to rise from the ashes.
Speramus Meliora - Resurget Cineribus
These interesting Latin words are the motto inscribed on the Detroit seal and flag. They were written by Gabriel Richard after the fire of 1805. The fire caused the entire city to burn with only one building saved from the flames. The words intended for the 1805 fire, still ring true today.
As I headed into Detroit, I was excited and nervous to see what the blemish of America would look like. I'm sure you've heard the same things I've heard: crime, poverty, murder, broken glass, danger, etc. When I got there, my brother gave me an incredibly well rounded view of the city.
In its prime, Detroit was the motor capitol of the world. The assembly line, Ford, GM and anything car related was in Detroit. Which in turn, meant it housed over 5 million people at one point. Now, a mere skeleton of the city remains. There are maybe 500,000 people living there now and the motor industry is all but gutted.
We drove through neighborhood after neighborhood of empty, abandoned homes. It was like a bomb had hit and people fled; leaving everything behind. It costs too much to knock the houses down so there they stand, remembering the people who once inhabited them and hoping for better things.
At one point, we drove through Highland Park. The most impoverished part of Detroit. They have no electricity for their street lights because it costs too much and the schools have all shut down. It was crazy to think that kids currently lived here, did their homework here, played here, ate dinner with their families here, all while nestled among the abandoned homes and darkened street lights.
But, amidst the shambles and the emptiness, was hope. People turning empty lots into gardens, people making abandoned homes into artwork, people trying to rebuild, trying to rise from the ashes. It reminded me of a way larger scale of Bridgeport, CT.
On Easter, we went to Mass at a church that my brother had warned me about. He said, "Katie, last time I was here, you could see the sky through the roof because of all the holes. So if it rains, pick a seat with a roof over it." So when we walked in, I was humbled by the simplicity of the church and awe struck by the warmth I felt. Each parishioner greeted us and made us feel welcome. At the sign of the peace, it was a good 15 minutes of EVERYONE greeting each other and wishing them a happy Easter. I felt love. I felt warmth. I felt hope; right there, in the ashes.
Coming away from Detroit, my views are changed. Yes, it probably is dangerous. But we can't shy away from a city that needs so much support. They don't need my sympathy, they don't need my love, they have plenty of that. There's so much Detroit pride that I can't help but want to be swept up in it. The people are beautiful, the strength is admirable and the warmth of 500,000 in a city that swallows them whole is unlike any other warmth I've ever felt, even if it is having to fight to rise from the ashes.
Speramus Meliora - Resurget Cineribus
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