signs and symbols

On April 1, 1981, Michael and I announced to all our friends that we were engaged.

A very very young Michael and Maria, 

standing in front of the University of Texas Catholic Center, where we met 

We thought we were SO funny—not to mention clever—choosing April Fools' day to make the official announcement. As if our friends couldn’t already recognize the signs revealing where our relationship was headed!

I’ve been thinking a lot about signs, symbols, and the powerful ways that they genuinely reflect our inner lives, my inner life—and what’s important to me, while simultaneously becoming a metaphor for the big picture of (read everlasting) life.

It was a beautiful, intense and eventful Holy Week and Triduum, packed to the brim with symbolism.

And I hope you will forgive me, but even though we’re beginning the Easter season, it’s going to take me a while to process and digest the powerful liturgies of these past few days, particularly the Easter Vigil and all its signs and symbols.

following the yellow arrow, Camino de Santiago

Speaking of symbols--and before I forget, as promised, here’s what I wrote for the New York Times section “Room for Debate” on the topic, “What is the purpose of Lent,” which was published on Good Friday.  

By the way, the actual question proposed to me was, “is there a point to giving things up for Lent?” My response:

Ten years after my friend Pat and I walked 350 miles of the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage, we laugh about the vigorous women we were then. Pat is battling life-threatening brain cancer, and I’m learning to function with a diminishing chronic autoimmune condition.

It would be too simple to say our physical circumstances are a metaphor for the struggles and challenges of the Camino. In so many ways, the Camino is a metaphor for our whole lives: I can’t anticipate what struggles today will bring, but anything is doable one step at a time. Every uphill has a downhill. Hardship becomes manageable with a friend. Every single thing that I carry weighs me down, so I must choose wisely. 

In our culture, pain, suffering, worries, difficulties and grieving are all things to conquer — and to anesthetize as quickly as possible. Each of us is an addict looking for a quick fix. Drugs. Food. Exercise. Sex. Shopping. Disposable relationships. Whatever it takes to not feel bad, sad, hurt. 

Thus the question for me is not whether there’s a point to giving things up during Lent, but whether I should ever stop fasting from all that numbs, dulls and deadens me to life, all of life, as it is today — the good and the bad. Fasting makes me willing to try. 

For Christians, Good Friday stands alone in holiness and singularity. The day defines who and what we believe — and what makes us different. Christianity scandalously proposes a God who becomes human out of love for humanity. The scandal deepens when this God-made-man willingly accepts suffering and death out of complete trust. 

The Passion of Christ is not ultimately about how Christ suffered; it’s not a documentary on the History Channel. The Passion is about Jesus’ response. 

In the midst of intense pain, in spite of undeserved persecution and profound discrimination, Jesus keeps his eyes on God, commending his heart and entire being to the one he trusted completely and without reservation. Each Lent, I fast to remember.

Go here to read all of the entries.

I’m trying very hard to follow my friends’ sage advice to not read the comments published online! That being said, I want to thank you in advance for considering taking the time to write a comment at the NYTimes site demonstrating to the editor that you read my writing! 

keep your eye on the ball

I have described myself before as a slow processor, and I've also learned that there are many of us out there! 

Over at ShirtofFlame.com, for example, author Heather King describes herself as, 

"one of those people for whom every week of experience takes two to process (which partly explains why I need to spend a lot of time alone)." 

Since this is my first Holy Week as a blogger, I don’t know what is the proper or regular protocol as far as balancing these things. But I've discerned that in order for me to enter Holy Week fully and with my whole heart, it's going to be important that (at least this year), I make a point of fasting from blogging, Facebook, Twitter, and most anything related to electronics. 

As a basketball fan, I'm already fairly distracted by march madness. 

Holy Week, especially the Easter Triduum, is a treasured time for our family, and this year we will have all of our grown children and their families (yes, including Elenita and the Twinkies!) celebrating with us. How blessed am I?! It will be our family version of march madness.

But before I sign off for Holy Week, I want to point out a couple of things. 

First of all, as I’ve already written here before, my current book project is a biography of Servant of God Fr. Stanley Francis Rother, an Oklahoma priest who was killed while ministering at an Oklahoma mission in Santiago de Atitlán, Guatemala.

And Wednesday of Holy Week – March 27 – is Father Rother's birthday.  So I’d like to tell you a little bit about his final Holy Week and how important it was for him. 

Each year, Fr. Rother sent a Christmas letter for publication in the two Oklahoma diocesan newspapers. In his final Christmas letter of 1980 he pointed out, 

“This is one of the reasons I have for staying in the face of physical harm. The shepherd cannot run at the first sign of danger. Pray for us that we may be a sign of the love of Christ for our people, that our presence among them will fortify them to endure these sufferings in preparation for the coming of the Kingdom.” 

A month later, and six months before his death, Fr. Rother and another local priest left Guatemala under threat of death after witnessing the abduction of a parish catechist. 

But Fr. Rother returned to his beloved community in Santiago Atitlán in time to celebrate Holy Week with them, ignoring the pleas of those who urged him to consider his own safety. Not only did he know in his heart that the shepherd cannot run, he also lived with his entire being what it meant to be "a sign of the love of Christ" for his people.

That July, in a statement read in all the nation’s parishes, the Guatemalan bishops denounced “a carefully studied plan” by the government “to intimidate the Church and silence its prophetic voice.”

At 1:30 am on July 28, 1981, three Spanish-speaking Ladino men (non indigenous) snuck into the rectory of Santiago Apostol (St. James) church in Santiago Atitlán, beating Father Rother and shooting him twice in the head.

Please pray for me as I continue to work on this beautiful life story. 

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On a completely different subject, I was asked yesterday to be one of the contributors for a Lenten "discussion" in the New York Times section called "Room for Debate."  The topic is: "Is there a point in giving up something for Lent?"

I will try to remember to post a link to the final product here, but since I'll be offline and it will be published on Good Friday, I'd like to ask #1, for your prayers as I ponder  and discern what to say--and #2, if you happen to think of it, please drop by the NYTimes and leave a friendly comment?