God in all things

The road to Emmaus is the story of sorrow to joy. These friends of Jesus trudge back to their village, leaving the disciples to figure out what to do next and ignoring the women who announced that they had seen the Risen Christ. Their hearts are heavy-burdened when they encounter a stranger that turns their world topsy-turvy. As they walk, He talks and suddenly their sadness is transformed into passion, their hearts burning.

Today was First Communion Sunday in many Catholic parishes and as I watched my friends’ son join us at the table, the priest grinned unabashedly. I wondered if Christ did that as he broke bread and vanished, laughing at these two men who at that very moment understood. Our pain is turned into joy at the table. Our sorrows are lifted. Hope is given. Mercy is new. Each road to Emmaus beckons us to have new eyes, to accept the transformation that is ours. Each time we walk down the aisle in our community, it is our road to Emmaus. Once again we can look at the host and see bread or we can let everything fall away and see Jesus. We can understand exactly what happened on that Good Friday.

Will you walk from pain to joy?

Peace,

Suzanne

What kind of masks do you wear? Tonight I got together with friends where I do not have to worry about anything. I feel totally accepted for who I am. The same is true for an evening of deep, meaningful conversation last night.

When do you slip on a mask and why? What fears do you try to hide? What vulnerabilities are being hidden by doing so?

I prefer to lay down all masks and be at home in my skin. How about you?

Peace,

Suzanne

Not everybody does things in the usual manner. I had the opportunity to see Dame Evelyn Glennie, a Deaf percussionist from Scotland, perform in a dress rehearsal with the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra. Afterwards she invited some members of the Deaf Community to join her on stage and have a conversation about what she does. It is fascinating to listen to her as she describes how she hears music with her entire body. Watching her perform, she creates sound with her whole being. Standing in her stocking feet, the vibrations move through her, inspiring sound to come forth.

If we only believe what we know, how can we be open to what we cannot know? If we only do what we have done before, where can the newness take hold of our depths and propel us into an experience beyond the known that must be encountered? Easter is like this. We must hear with our entire bodies, believe the inexplicable, see without our eyes, and trust beyond our capacity.

What must you do differently to be this open and vulnerable?

Peace,

Suzanne

Today’s Gospel has perhaps one of the most repeated lines from the Bible: For God so loved the World that He gave His only begotten son. The end of the reading though is less known: Whoever lives in the truth comes to the Light so that his works may be clearly seen as done in God.

May we know how much God loves us an how God always has us in the grip of Grace. May we live in the truth and shine with the Light of God.

Peace,

Suzanne

You know a robin cannot be an eagle or a sparrow or a crow. It has to be a robin and do its robin duties. Right now being a robin means being a bearer of good news. In these parts seeing a robin means that spring has officially arrived.

Today is the Feast of St. Catherine of Siena. I love this saint. “Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire”  is attributed to her. Having heard the Easter stories we have seen the apostles and the women that Jesus loved shine–or not at times–but they were all thoroughly and authentically themselves. Centuries later they still set the world on fire with their stories of trying to be faithful.

There is a story about Catherine that makes me realize the importance of love and service. It is said that one of Catherine’s friends was preparing a meal but needed to stop to attend her funeral. When she returned home, the meal was ready. She believed that Catherine had come to help her and honour her desire to attend the funeral. What great love these two women must have shared! Be you. Trust your instincts. Love deeply. Serve humbly. Shine for God! Ignite a fire so bright that people will be transfigured.

Peace,

Suzanne

Some days I see an end of a great career in sight and I wonder how yet to give back while those remaining grains of sand slip through the hour glass. Tonight I went to a board meeting for the first time in years for my professional organization. I loved the group of women who had stepped up to the plate to serve. We are all making a mark and leaving a legacy. What are you doing to improve your world?

Peace,

Suzanne

Did you ever notice that one of the disciples primary tasks was healing? Today in the Gospel Jesus commissions his followers to go out and proclaim the Gospel (not yet written) to every creature. In the First Reading, Peter and John have been detained because they have cured a man. They refuse to stop because they must do God’s will. These are two tasks given to each Christian: proclaiming the Good News and healing.

I was thinking about something I read recently about trees that grow in the desert that are planted by streams are the ones that survive because their roots have access to the water. Each of us have access to healing waters too–through prayers, worship, Bible studies, and the such. We must be like those roots in the desert and constantly seek out the waters that will bring life to us. This will then allow us to share the Gospel with joy and love.

Go therefore and seek out waters that will refresh your soul. Drink deeply and then rejoice with others who need to hear your story.

Peace,

Suzanne

Today in the Gospel of John, Jesus appears again to the disciples, this time when Peter is doing what he used to do before meeting Christ. Peter has returned to his “safe” life.  Little does he know that once Jesus has a hold of you, He never lets go. Once He calls you, He persistently tugs at your sleeve until you finally pay attention. Try to ignore Jesus and you end up confused and bewildered. The one beautiful thing from today’s Gospel that struck me anew was that Peter knew catching that load of 153 fish had nothing to do with his skill as a fisherman and everything to do with the Lord. He immediately jumps into the sea. Jesus simply says to them, Come and have breakfast. This is the first time He has seen Peter and he does what we now do at every Eucharist, He shares a meal with him.

We go about our lives. Some days we do the will of God. Other days we try hard to ignore the call and just do what we think we are good at. Either way the Risen Christ will burst through and surprise us. He will always call us to greater things then we think we deserve. Those moments will scare us and perhaps we will not have the courage to ask, Who are you? but we will know on a level that we cannot explain that it is the Risen One in our midst, ensuring that the work of the Kingdom continues through us. Having breakfast is an ordinary act most days, but once in awhile, that breakfast makes us hungry for something nothing on earth will satisfy.

Peace,

Suzanne

This was the photo I used this past week to represent calm and stillness in my journal for the e-course that Brene Brown is leading. The photo whirls me back in time, to Mombasa, and “stalking” this beautiful white bird in the sparkly water for a perfect shot. I never really got it but despite the bird being somewhat out of focus, there is still something appealing about it. My memory of that moment brings a calm and a smile.

In today’s Gospel Jesus appears to the apostles and says, “Peace be with you.”

What does the peace of Christ mean to you? When do you experience it? How does it come over you?

Tonight I was out with five friends from early childhood. I went to Grade 1 and on with four of the five and junior high on with the fifth. The later I had not seen in decades. I love how wonderful we have all turned out. That does not mean that our lives are perfect–quite the contrary. There was a lot of collective pain at that table. We talked about the mean teachers that scarred some of us, the crazy family dynamics others of us experienced, and the current state of our lives. Yet driving home, I felt incredible peace and gratitude. As I reflect on the Gospel, Christ stood there amongst His friends with his wounds fresh and tender. Christ was–and is–present during our struggles and stands with us, reassuring us that peace is ours.

As always, I close with my signature:

Peace…

Suzanne