I originally wrote this post three years ago, shortly after having lost a dear friend to breast cancer. Of course, in the 3-year cycle of readings, Luke’s account of the Transfiguration is (once again) the Gospel for the Second Sunday of Lent. This reflection also makes its way into the first chapter of Continuing the Journey(which is now available in both English and Spanish, with a Leaders Guide–also in both English and Spanish… but I digress).
From February 2013…
My dear friend Amalour passed away last week. And in my grief, I am still having a difficult time paying attention to almost everything. So it didn’t come as any surprise when I had a hard time following the homily today at mass. The Gospel on the Second Sunday of Lent is the Transfiguration (Luke 9:28:-36).
Jesus took Peter, John, and James and went up the mountain to pray. While he was praying his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white. And behold, two men were conversing with him, Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem. Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep, but becoming fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him. As they were about to part from him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good that we are here; let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” But he did not know what he was saying. While he was still speaking, a cloud came and cast a shadow over them, and they became frightened when they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.” After the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. They fell silent and did not at that time tell anyone what they had seen.
Years ago (before kids), I facilitated a faith sharing group at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Parish in Maryland, and one of the women explained how the story of the Transfiguration was one of her favorites because it offered a glimpse of Jesus Christ glorified. I heard her words and felt moved by her passion, but that’s not how the story struck me.
Personally, I find myself identifying with Peter, James, and John. Like them, I would have been happy to follow Jesus up a mountain. Like them, I would have probably been overcome by sleep. Even before kids. And like them, I would probably been so awestruck, I would have been happy to to pitch a tent.
Actually, I would have been happy to have my husband pitch the tent while I set up camp.
At the Vigil service for Amalour’s funeral, her husband Brian offered one of the most moving eulogies I have ever heard. Brian talked about Amalour’s unending quest for improvement. In their marriage–in their lives–they’d do the work and come to a plateau. It was a nice plateau, on which Brian was ready to pitch a tent and enjoy the view. And Amalour would say no; we’re not there yet. We can do better than this. There’s more to see; there’s more to do. Again, and again, and again in their lives, Amalour was always striving for something more… for something better… in all the ways that mattered.
I am a do-er. I’d like to think of myself as someone who walked alongside Amalour on the path of growth. In many ways, I know I have. But I also know one of my weaknesses is doing too much. I have been guilty of distracting myself from the real, true, important things in life with busyness… filling my days with so much stuff that I don’t have time to think. When I’m in this mindset, pitching a tent and enjoying the view sounds like a GREAT idea! In fact, I’ll even busy myself with setting up camp.
Thing is, life is more of a journey than a sit-down and watch (or in my case, get everything ready to sit down and watch). And sometimes that journey is hard. Very hard.
I can imagine that witnessing the Transfiguration was to be a gift to inspire Peter, James, and John for the journey that lay before them. It was not meant to be the end of the journey… or even a break from the journey.
So the challenge, I suppose, is to take those moments of grace, peace, hope, and light and allow them to inspire us along the path. To avoid the temptation to pitch a tent as though that moment was the end-all-be-all. To avoid the temptation to busy ourselves with setting up camp instead of doing the real work of journeying through life.
Adults crave quality connections with other adults, where we can have good conversations about the things in life that really matter.
For a variety of reasons, we don’t always have the opportunity to do this; to have these quality connections and conversations. Our schedules become busy with kids, work, commitments, activities, sports, responsibilities, and so on. We often find ourselves socializing with the people who keep similar schedules in similar spaces. We talk about the things we do or the things we see, but not always what’s going on inside our hearts.
Sharing the yearnings of our hearts–our hopes and dreams, our joys and sorrows, our brokenness in pain and suffering–takes trust, vulnerability, and love.
Trust, vulnerability, and love aren’t characteristics easily found in today’s impersonal, fast paced, technology dependent world.
This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. (John 13:35)
Yet trust, vulnerability, and love are at the heart of true spirituality, discipleship, and Christian community. Or at least, that’s what Jesus had intended, that’s what St. Paul wrote about, and that’s what Acts of the Apostles describes.
Every day they devoted themselves to meeting together in the temple area and to breaking bread in their homes. They ate their meals with exultation and sincerity of heart, praising God and enjoying favor with all the people. (Acts 2:46-47)
The experience of quality conversations and connections is invigorating; these moments fill our hearts with love, peace, and joy. When the topics touch upon spirituality, discipleship, and Christian living, these conversations are evangelizing–kindling our passion for God.
So when, and where, and how can we find quality connections and quality conversations with other adults? In today’s Church, we can certainly find this within small faith sharing groups.
My last post explained what a small faith sharing group is. This post begins with a vision for what kind of experience we want (quality conversations and connections) and will focus on Howto implement small faith sharing groups.
Five Keys For Small Faith Sharing Groups
Just because you get a group of people together and give them a topic does not mean you’ll get these fantastic evangelizing conversations and quality connections. Have you ever been part of a never-ending meeting that goes nowhere? Or one that devolves into either a therapy session or venting and complaining?
Beyond the logistics of who, where, when (and what to discuss), there needs to be a great deal of attention dedicated to how. I suggest Five Key C’s to cultivating evangelizing conversations and quality connections:
Confidentiality – the atmosphere of the small faith sharing group needs to be one of trust, vulnerability, and love. Whatever is shared in these conversations must not be repeated in any other context. This is a confidentiality based in agapic-love, willing of another’s good… the only exception to confidentiality is if someone’s life is in danger. Care and concern for the well-being of another always takes precedence when someone’s life is in danger.
Conversation– participants enter into small faith sharing groups with the expectation of conversation. Good conversations extend from mutual respect. To get to a place of mutual respect, sometimes “ground rules” need to be made explicit, such as:
encourage laughter and joy… but never at the expense of another.
express concern for one another… but not by offering advice, criticism, or judgment of others.
recognize and validate emotions… but resist the temptation to counsel, advise, or solve problems (unless specifically asked for).
honor one another’s time with both brevity (when sharing) and patience (when listening).
Coordination through Facilitators – a good facilitator is a good listener and servant/leader. More than a host or a coordinator that plans the meetings, a good facilitator knows how to:
invite everyone’s participation in the conversation… but not force it; no one has an obligation to share. Some folks are natural talkers who easily share; others are introverts that need time to think and process. A facilitator’s job is to prevent “conversation ball-hogs” by making sure that everyone has a chance to speak and contribute.
be patient as participants share their stories… but also be attentive to staying focused on the discussion topic and keeping the discussion within the time allotted.
Conversionand Application to Life – it is easier to talk critical analysis–what you think about a topic–than it is to consider how the material applies to your life. It’s easier to talk about concepts or other people’s stories than it is to consider how the wisdom of Scripture and Tradition is personally calling you to conversion in your own life. Faith sharing group discussions are concerned with:
How you currently experience [the topic] in your life – whether with success or struggles.
Ways in which you feel [the topic] is calling you to live your faith differently or better… a call to action of sorts.
Centered on Prayer – Faith sharing groups always need to be centered on our Life-giving, Loving God. We need to remember to:
begin by inviting the Holy Spirit into the discussion.
choose discussion material that helps us focus on how the wisdom of the Christian Tradition applies to our lives today.
pray over, for, with our brothers and sisters in Christ who are struggling through difficult times… even if it is in the middle of the discussion.
end with a prayer of thanksgiving and/or petition.
One last thing to keep in mind when working with adults in a faith sharing group setting: busy adults don’t always have the time to read and prepare. Or sometimes they do read and prepare, but then time passes, life happens, and they forget. In a classroom setting, it makes sense to emphasize coming to class prepared. In a faith sharing group, the focus is on evangelization; quality connections and conversation about faith and life.
Catechesis is an essential “moment” in the process of evangelization (General Directory for Catechesis, 63).
To help adults focus their conversation, it’s always a good idea to offer a summary that reminds participants about the key points in the material before opening the discussion.
Faith Sharing with Continuing the Journey
You know what material easily lends itself to small faith sharing group discussion? That’s right! My book, Continuing the Journey: Cultivating Lived Faith.
Even more, you know what will help with the Five Key C’s of cultivating evangelizing conversations and quality connections? My brand new Leader’s Guide.
I believe so strongly in the value of small faith sharing groups that I am offering the Leader’s Guide as either a free PDF (click here), or a hard copy can be mailed to you for $5.99 with free Prime Shipping through Amazon.
Note: all Amazon links include my affiliate link, which means Amazon gives me a couple of extra pennies from your purchase.
Go forth and share your faith! And let me know if I can be of any help in the process. In addition to these resources, I am available to offer trainings and workshops for small faith sharing group facilitators. Just email me!
My LEGO loving boys have been watching the Ninjago series on Netflix. One recent episode captured more of my attention than I would readily admit in certain social circles.
In the episode “Wrong Place, Wrong Time,” the bad guy (Lord Garmadon) wishes that the good guys (Ninjas) never existed, so he goes back in time to make it so. The Ninjas follow him, intending to save the day, but are warned by their mentor (Sensei Wu) that if they change anything, they change everything.
The episode reminded me of a conversation I had with my Grandmom in one of her last visits to my house.
“Kid, there were some difficult times in my life. I’ll tell you. 1936 was hard. Extremely hard. But let me just say this: I have no regrets. Isn’t that something? At my age [83]? No regrets.” She paused and turned to look at me, “Can you say the same for yourself? Do you have any regrets?”
I looked at her with tears in my eyes. “No. I can’t say that. I do have a huge regret. My first marriage was a huge mistake. I regret that it ever happened. I regret making that choice. With every fiber of my being, I regret that.”
Grandmom does this vice grip pinch of my upper arm with surprising strength for a feeble old lady and tells me, “I’m not saying I never made any mistakes. Kid, I made plenty of mistakes. PLENTY. Ask anyone. I’m talking REGRETS.”
“I know, Grandmom. I do. I wish it wasn’t a regret. But it is.”
“I hope one day you change your mind. I hope one day you can get to my age and say that you have no regrets. Because that’s really something.”
Grandmom died December 8, 2011, still having no regrets.
So as I sat in the dining room, sipping my tea and finishing breakfast, I hear Sensei Wu tell the Ninjas that if you change anything, you change everything. And I finally got it.
Regret and Remorse
Regret and remorse are two different things. I have sincere remorse for the series of well-intentioned, yet ill-informed decisions that led to one of the lowest point in my life. I am deeply sorry. The turmoil, crisis, depression… I am very sorry.
But Grandmom was talking about the kind of regret that wipes the event off the face of the earth. And as Sensei Wu said, change anything, change everything.
My husband… my boys… my friends… my community… my personal and spiritual growth… No. I don’t want to risk changing who, and what, and where I am now. So I’m making peace with how I got here.
I’m getting closer to telling Grandmom, “No. I don’t have any regrets.” And I hear her saying, “That’s good, kid. That’s great!” (Though, the imaginary vice grip hurts a lot less than the real one.)
A Caveat – on Divine Providence and Evil
As I note that I wouldn’t trade any of the goodness in my life, even to remove my deepest remorse, I feel the need to address one of my personal pet peeves. The expression “Everything happens for a reason.” I hate it.
Imagine a rape survivor hearing that. Or a Holocaust survivor.
I want to think that the sentiment people are trying to express is one of hope… but something gets lost in the translation.
Allow me to get all Catholic on you and pull out my Catechism. In the section on Divine Providence and the Scandal of Evil (See CCC, 309-314), the Catechism lays it out:
God is all good
God does not causeevil to happen
Evil happens
Then, paragraph CCC, 311 quotes St. Augustine:
For almighty God…because he is supremely good, would never allow any evil whatsoever to exist in his works if he were not so all-powerful and good as to cause good to emerge from evil itself.
So God didn’t cause the bad things to happen to you or me or anyone else. Everything happens for a reason? NO!
It’s more like: When life gives you lemons, God–as only God can do–makes the best divine lemonade you could possibly imagine.
God–and only God–can transform evil into something good. I mean look what he did with the Crucifixion. That’s some pretty good Divine Lemonade right there.
I digress.
And I hope you don’t have any regrets either. Let’s all make Grandmom proud.
So one of the things I love about living in my neighborhood is that we can bike–as a family–to Church, to friends houses, to the pool, to my husband’s work.
Sunday morning at 9:45am. I’m all excited that we’re actually walking out the door with plenty of time to bike the 1/2 mile and get to the 10 o’clock Mass without rushing. Everyone has bike helmets on, I’m loading stuff into my basket, and my husband grimly tells me that my front tire has a hole in the tube.
So we walked. Quickly. In the Houston heat and humidity. And got to Mass at 9:59am. Sweaty, but on time.
First World Problems.
The first time I heard the phrase “First World Problems” was on FaceBook, in a meme.
I didn’t know it was a meme. I read the shallow complaints common to American society and flipped out. [Me: THESE ARE NOT PROBLEMS!] A couple of FaceBook friends gently explained that it was an expression and what it meant.
First World Problems, also known as “White Whine,” are frustrations and complaints that are only experienced by privileged individuals in wealthy countries. It is typically used as a tongue-in-cheek comedic device to make light of trivial inconveniences.*
A couple of weeks ago, my Mom explained that she heard the phrase for the first time. It changed things for her: How privileged am I to have THESE problems?
So when I heard the readings today – readings I have heard a gazillion times before – I felt like I was being called out on something.
Vanity of vanities, says Qoheleth,
vanity of vanities! All things are vanity!
Here is one who has labored with wisdom and knowledge and skill,
and yet to another who has not labored over it,
he must leave property.
This also is vanity and a great misfortune.
For what profit comes to man from all the toil and anxiety of heart
with which he has labored under the sun?
All his days sorrow and grief are his occupation;
even at night his mind is not at rest.
This also is vanity. (Ecclesiastes 1:2; 2:21-23)
The word vanity translates as “breath” or “vapor,” as in breath of breath or vapor of vapors. Designating something that lacks substance, in effect, meaning “nothing of nothing-ness.”
First World Problems.
Though I was disappointed that we couldn’t bike to Church–and that I’ll have to buy a new tube to fix the tire–I was fully aware that this wasn’t a real problem. I take a look at my FaceBook feed… and I see a lot of complaining about things that aren’t really problems. It’s so easy to complain. Too easy. And all too often, I join in the misery.
Vanity of vanities! All things are vanity!
I read the book A Complaint Free World a while ago… I love the theory (complaining less; appreciating more). I also recently lost a dear friend to cancer… there’s nothing quite like watching your friend’s newly widowed husband having to care for three kids under the age of nine to put things in perspective for you.
There’s a lot of things that we expend our time, energy, money, and effort worrying about that really don’t matter.
Brothers and sisters:
If you were raised with Christ, seek what is above,
where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.
Think of what is above, not of what is on earth.
Colossians 3:1-2
Throughout Scripture, Jesus calls us to conversion. The Greek word is metanoia. A change in our whole being; a transformation grounded in repentance. Metanoia is less about rejecting earthly things and more about recognizing what really matters.
What if, instead of complaining about things that don’t really matter, we saw each inconvenience as an opportunity to embrace something new. Or simply thought “How privileged am I to have these problems?”
If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts. (Ps 95:7-8)
My dear friend Amalour passed away last week. And in my grief, I am still having a difficult time paying attention to almost everything. So it didn’t come as any surprise when I had a hard time following the homily today at mass. The Gospel on the Second Sunday of Lent is the Transfiguration (Luke 9:28:-36)
Jesus took Peter, John, and James and went up the mountain to pray. While he was praying his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white. And behold, two men were conversing with him, Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem. Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep, but becoming fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him. As they were about to part from him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good that we are here; let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” But he did not know what he was saying. While he was still speaking, a cloud came and cast a shadow over them, and they became frightened when they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.” After the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. They fell silent and did not at that time tell anyone what they had seen.
Years ago (before kids), I facilitated a faith sharing group at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Parish in Maryland, and one of the women explained how the story of the Transfiguration was one of her favorites because it offered a glimpse of Jesus Christ glorified. I heard her words and felt moved by her passion, but that’s not how the story struck me.
Personally, I find myself identifying with Peter, James, and John. Like them, I would have been happy to follow Jesus up a mountain. Like them, I would have probably been overcome by sleep. Even before kids. And like them, I would probably been so awestruck, I would have been happy to to pitch a tent.
Actually, I would have been happy to have my husband pitch the tent while I set up camp.
At the Vigil service for Amalour’s funeral, her husband Brian offered one of the most moving eulogies I have ever heard. Brian talked about Amalour’s unending quest for improvement. In their marriage–in their lives–they’d do the work and come to a plateau. It was a nice plateau, on which Brian was ready to pitch a tent and enjoy the view. And Amalour would say no; we’re not there yet. We can do better than this. There’s more to see; there’s more to do. Again, and again, and again in their lives, Amalour was always striving for something more… for something better… in all the ways that mattered.
I am a do-er. I’d like to think of myself as someone who walked alongside Amalour on the path of growth. In many ways, I know I have. But I also know one of my weaknesses is doing too much. I have been guilty of distracting myself from the real, true, important things in life with busyness… filling my days with so much stuff that I don’t have time to think. When I’m in this mindset, pitching a tent and enjoying the view sounds like a GREAT idea! In fact, I’ll even busy myself with setting up camp.
Thing is, life is more of a journey than a sit-down and watch (or in my case, get everything ready to sit down and watch). And sometimes that journey is hard. Very hard.
I can imagine that witnessing the Transfiguration was to be a gift to inspire Peter, James, and John for the journey that lay before them. It was not meant to be the end of the journey… or even a break from the journey.
So the challenge, I suppose, is to take those moments of grace, peace, hope, and light and allow them to inspire us along the path. To avoid the temptation to pitch a tent as though that moment was the end-all-be-all. To avoid the temptation to busy ourselves with setting up camp instead of doing the real work of journeying through life.
