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Welcome to my journey. |
| Life is a gift, a journey, a test. |
| I thought about that crazy DaVinci Code dream I had. What could it have meant? Sometimes I am judgemental. This seems to be my biggest downfall. I see things through my own prismic perspective and think I know what truth is. Recently I've been given a difficult task: to drum up support for a Youth Ministry program in two parishes. I belong to one parish, and know a few people. The other parish, the "sister parish", is a bit of an enigma, as I've only spoken to the secretary on the phone. When I call the people Father has directed me to call from our sister parish, I get no response. Not even a callback. It took a conversation with a good friend of mine to remind me that maybe it was the messenger. These people really have no idea who I am. Why would they call me back? I took a few minutes to regroup, and have decided to make a trip over to see them. Not ready to spit, but ready to make friends. |
| I had a bizarre dream last night: I attended the premiere of The DaVinci Code. I spotted Steven Spielberg at the table beside Tom Hanks and walked up to him. I spit in his face and said, "You call yourself Jewish, yet you partake in a mockery of God? How dare you." I spit again and walked away. This scene looped a few times until I woke up. What disturbs me about this dream? Steven Spielberg is not the director of The DaVinci Code. He is, however, the hopeful for Angel's and Demons, Brown's prequel to this controversial work of fiction. I wonder what it means? |
| “So you’re getting into Youth Ministry…it’s very rewarding. I still get letters from my kids. Even after years. Maybe one out of 50 can actually do youth ministry.” He’s not kidding. It really takes a special person to be able to make a program work without it looking like a “program”. Teenagers don’t want more school, more rules, more adults bossing them around. So what do they want? They want sincerity. If you and your faith is anything less than authentic, they will see right through you. Teens don’t want me to be their buddy, but their role-model. This is why they are coming to a youth program in the first place. How are they going to look to me for guidance and answers when I’m not living it myself? This is why I’ve developed a spiritual routine. Every morning I wake up and pray for help throughout the day that I can be the Christian woman that Jesus desires me to be. I try to work hard at my job every day. I spend time in scripture as the day progresses. I tithe. I give my time to my church, my friends and those in need. Am I perfect? Heavens, no. I flake off at work; I toss out things that could be recycled, reused or donated. I find myself judging others at times. I don’t pay attention at church sometimes. I forget to tell people that I love them. I slip out a little white lie to save my own hide when I’ve made a booboo. At the end of every day I lament all of my shortcomings and hope that I can be better tomorrow. It is this journey that I hope the kids see: that Christianity is not a condition, but a lifelong goal. |
| I've been working on a ministry program for teens at my parish. I'm not sure why I said yes, but I did, and no matter what happens, I'm sticking to the decision. I'll carry the program as far as I can, and hopefully it will be well received. I've never done anything like this before in my life. I'm scared to death. |
| There are days that the memories of my former self come back for a little visit, memories that I wish would stay away. A life like mine is full of regrets: regrets about the pain I've caused others. Last night I got an email from an old "friend" of mine; a man that caused me as much pain as I caused him; a man through whom I caused others to experience pain. I can tell you that it was all his fault, that he spun a web of lies in which my wing got caught; I can give you a line that my motives were totally pure; I can easily brush the experience under the rug and pretend to have never known the man. The facts remain: I was getting ready to run away from my life, and this man looked like the perfect avenue out. I had unrealistic expectations of him, and an unrealistic view of myself. I became what he wanted for my own gain; when he would not reciprocate, I moved on to the next sucker. He was as devious as I was, so he also moved on. Another bridge burned. When my next sucker did not pan out as I'd hoped and I'd subsequently burned that bridge, I got a good look at myself, and didn't like what I saw. It was time for me to stop being selfish; to stop running; to stop living a lie. I wish I could take back all that pain I caused. Living authentically is a huge challenge, especially when protecting myself with dishonesty was like second nature. I periodically slip back into that behavior, but catch myself and correct it as soon as possible. Morality isn't as easy as I want it to be; but it's far better than the alternative. About the old "friend"; I contemplated writing him a letter, reopening a dialogue with this man for an instant. I briefly let the events of my torrid affair resurface--the way I was then, wasting time playing stupid emotional games with so many people. I can dwell on the mistakes I've made, wishing away the pain I inflicted upon those poor victims of my bad behavior, or I can accept the forgiveness that is mine and get on with my life. I emailed him back: "She's dead." |
| The best thing my mother ever did for me was get me into guitar lessons. I returned this evening from my "basement band" practice with a homemade DVD of one of our rehearsals. We pretty much suck, but getting better. As with anything, practice makes perfect. Though I'd rather focus on the other musical endeavors I'm pursuing. Too bad one of the members of my "basement band" is a pagan, the other a lukewarm, non-practicing Catholic. Yup, you guessed it, the other endeavors are Christian. |
| finally! a chance to blog. It's been two days since I created this thing, and I've barely been able to sit down and collect my thoughts, let alone clickety-click-click them into the world wide web. So today I'm thinking about the dozens of "gospels" out there, with the presentation of the Gospel of Judas hitting the airways this evening. The gospel of Judas, like the texts found in Nag Hammadi in Egypt, is considered coptic, or gnostic in nature. What does this mean? Well, Gnosticsm is the belief that through knowledge we redeem ourselves. According to Marian Webster: "the thought and practice especially of various cults of late pre-Christian and early Christian centuries distinguished by the conviction that matter is evil and that emancipation comes through gnosis." The word "gnosis" is greek and literally translates to knowledge. Now the argument is that the gnostic books were destroyed by the church and should not have been, because the books contain thoughts and ideas that support a desired way of life. Is that about the gist of it? Every piece I've ever read by a gnostic sympathiser amounts to about this. THE TRUTH: Yes, the church decided that these gnostic gospels are bunk. The church did destroy some of them, simply to prevent the spread of error. The Church is not to offer conflicting ideals, but to make a unified stand on the teachings of its head, who is Christ. As Christians, we don't believe salvation is something we can achieve by any effort on our part, but is a gift from God: "Salvation comes from our God, who is seated on the throne, and from the Lamb." (Rev 7:10) See, the early Church had the teaching already, and selected the books that supported it; not the other way around, as the gnostics would have had it. This is why the books that did not support the teachings of Christ as passed down through the 12 Apostles and their successors were discarded. It wasn't their right, but their RESPONSIBILITY. Sure, the Church knew that copies of the texts would survive, and certainly more than the ones found at Nag Hammadi are certainly not the only texts of antiquity that exist. There are the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Epoch of Gilgamesh, the works of Flavius Josephus; not to mention the Bible. |
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