Author: abraun

Seeing in the Dark

Written by Sharon Diotte on Tuesday of the Second Week of Lent

One of the many delights of retirement is the release from the constraints of the clock, especially when it comes to sleep. I’m often awake for an hour or two in the middle of the night. Other elder women tell me they too experience this interrupted sleep pattern. When we were younger, such interruptions in sleep were bothersome, resulting in lowered energy on the job the next day, but when we don’t have to get up early for work or child care in the morning, waking up in the middle of the night becomes a relaxed God call.

When I awake during the night, I give myself a chance to drift back into dream space. After fifteen minutes or so, if I’m still awake, I move to the small sofa in my office to sit with God. My office is my special God space in my home: photos of my ancestors and my children line the walls with small vases of fresh flowers honoring my parents and grandparents. An altar with images of Jesus and the Blessed Mother sits in one corner. The colors and textures of my God room are especially soothing for me. Always, upon entering this room, I feel deeply calmed and nourished.

Prayer time in the dark of the night, when the veil between the worlds is thinned, is a time of silent surrender. In this setting, my attention slides easily from my head down into my torso where God waits lovingly within me. This is a time to simply sit in the presence of God within. There are no thoughts, only an empty listening, an empty watching, an empty readiness. In this dark space of surrender, transformation happens. I am no longer my body or my personality or the events of my life. I am more. I am eternal. I Am.

Questions for Reflection:
Do you have a special God place in your home? If not yet, what would that space look like?
As you prepare to resurrect in Christ can you gift yourself with a consistent time to sit silently with your inner I AM?

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Sharon Diotte
Sharon is a retired parishioner at St. Mary Student Parish.
Contact: sharondiotte@hotmail.com

Seeing as Jesus Sees

Written by Setrak Haroutounian on Monday of the Second Week of Lent

Today’s Gospel reading from St. Luke (6:36-38) makes me uncomfortable, because I stink at this stuff. Right before this passage we get the famous Golden Rule and “love thine enemies” verses we know so well. Jesus then calls us to be compassionate, nonjudgmental givers and forgivers, “because the standard you use will be the standard used for you.” And then in verse 46, he tells us that it does no good to profess faith if we don’t live it. This is some serious language that Jesus is putting before us. He doesn’t ask us to believe that everything humans do is acceptable or good, but to consider our own selves when we would perhaps be quick to judge out of arrogance or blindness – when we might jump to conclusions or make assumptions.

I’ve discovered that the sinner in me is amazingly terrible at seeing life through another’s eyes. To live the way Jesus seems to be challenging us to, we have to see each other through this same lens: we are all created by God, loved and redeemed by Jesus. Curious, right? To see each other as the diverse, individual, unique, beloved creation that we each are, we have to focus on a common identity.

“Identity” has become a popular idea in the social and academic world, and people are challenged to define how they see themselves, or “identify,” while being sensitive to the identities others choose for themselves. There’s something noble about this movement, but Jesus seems to point to something a little different than this self-discerning. He is given his identity from the Father: “You are my beloved Son,” and he in-turn gives us our identity: children of God, light of the world, salt of the earth. Jesus scandalously looks past human differences because he uses a lens that recognizes the true, authentic identity of everyone – each person for whom he died and rose.

Today, ask yourself these hard-hitting questions: Will I choose to see every person I encounter today the way Jesus sees them? Will I see myself the way Jesus sees me? Then, go wrestle with your answers all day long.

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Setrak Haroutounian
Setrak is a half-Armenian, half-Southern guy who somehow ended up in frosty Michigan. He’s a sinner, coffee drinker, and a master’s student studying Education Leadership and Policy, graduating in 2015.
Email: setrakh@umich.edu

Keep My Eyes to Serve

Written by Christine Convery on the Second Sunday of Lent

Two years ago, on my senior alternative spring break trip to Wheeling, WV, my group spent a day walking part of the Warrior Trail in Green County, PA.  As we painted yellow circles to mark the 5,000 year old trail first cut by Native Americans, we got to see up close the mountain resources that have resulted in economic boom and bust for this region of the country. Old coal plants, slurry pools, and fracking sites interrupted the otherwise pristine natural setting, along with a few isolated homes and farms. On this Appalachian trail, I had a mountain-top experience: an encounter with a God of the rural poor proclaiming “These are my beloved people. Listen to them.”

The trip down from the mountain becomes the hard part. Like Peter in the story of the transfiguration, I often have a short-lived and misdirected enthusiasm after such experiences and I want to stay on the mountain top forever. But coming home, from service or retreat or an enlightening encounter, is when I get to answer God’s call. How can I sustain an active and joyful spiritual life? How do I serve God and others in the mundane tasks of graduate school? Where do I see the face of God revealed to me on the streets of Ann Arbor? What does it mean to be transfigured? To be resurrected from the dead?

In my life today, I am faced with decisions and uncertainty about career paths and relationships and life plans. I am finished with ASB trips; instead I have the chance to serve in my own neighborhood and my own community. I don’t have an Appalachian vista inspiring me to open up to God’s call, but I do have the transformative presence of Christ in the Eucharist and in my neighbors. There is no audible voice of God, but today I hear Christ’s message and my prayer in the words of Mumford & Sons: “Keep the earth below my feet…Keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn.”

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vEJ-v3n0qkw]

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Christine Convery
Christine is a master’s student in the University of Michigan’s School of Public Health.  She served as the undergraduate intern for retreats at St. Mary Student Parish for the 2012-13 academic year and graduated from U of M in 2013.
Email: converyc@umich.edu

God’s Voice in the Words of Others

Written by Andrew Brown on Saturday of the First Week of Lent

Studying social work in St. Louis among everything that has been happening in Ferguson (a suburb just north of the city) has been a powerful and challenging experience. Personally, I have felt called to participate in protests and stand in solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement. Others have chosen to take various different stances. Amidst all of this diversity of opinion, I am deeply concerned about a troubling dynamic that I have witnessed and sometimes participated in.

I feel very strongly about my own perspective, and I have met many others with different stances that are equally passionate. These differences of opinion create a wonderful opportunity for dialogue and a deepened understanding of how God can work through us to solve complex social injustices and make us more loving and unified. Unfortunately, many people, including me, miss these valuable opportunities. I am guilty of creating inflammatory social media posts, judging people with different perspectives than me, and prioritizing making my opinion heard over actively listening to others.

Jesus’ example of silence in the desert is an example for me this Lent. I want to challenge myself to prioritize listening, even when the person I’m listening to makes me feel angry, confused, or hurt. I feel strongly about my own beliefs and values because I genuinely believe that God has guided me to those values. When I discuss difficult topics with others, I want to challenge myself to respect that their beliefs come from the same place of sincere reflection and thought.

Listening in this way is not a threat to my own beliefs. It will help me clarify and deepen my beliefs. I cannot assume that I have the right answer, particularly regarding complex issues. By engaging sincerely and earnestly with others with a real intention to listen, I open myself up to the possibility of hearing God’s voice through meaningful conversation.

Questions for Reflection:
Think about a time when you heard God’s voice in a discussion. What was that like? What about the conversation made you feel God’s presence?
How can you seek opportunities to listen for God’s voice in the words of others?

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Andrew Brown
Andrew is a 2^nd year Master of Social Work student studying Social and Economic Development at Washington University in St. Louis. He graduated with his BA from the University of Michigan in 2012 and served as a Peer Minister at St. Mary Student Parish for the 2012-13 academic year.
Email: andrew.dwight.brown@gmail.com

*Ferguson photo taken by Chris Ahrens

Ready to Listen

Written by Colleen McClain on Thursday of the First Week of Lent

“[God’s] will for us was the twenty-four hours of each day: the people, the places, the circumstances he set before us in that time. Those were the things God knew were important to him and to us at that moment… The trick is to learn to see that—not just in theory, or not just occasionally in a flash of insight granted by God’s grace, but every day.”     – Jesuit Fr. Walter Ciszek

There are times when God’s voice is unmistakable; even then, it can be difficult to listen. I left for fall retreat exhausted amidst year two of graduate school, my personal and professional life moving faster than I could reflect upon.

The chapel was quiet as we moved around its perimeter, praying the Stations. As we reached the twelfth—Jesus dies—a rush of air blew through the rafters. Whether others heard it, I don’t know. But I prayed that weekend to hear Him more clearly in returning to “normal” life. Quickly, though, daily stressors closed in.

Yet I’m grateful that God works in ways that are not ours: Even when I let His voice seem faint, it remains a constant whisper of truth in each day. As I sat with fellow parishioners on Ash Wednesday, I heard God simply and profoundly. My realization:

This Lent will change me, if I let it.

It will transform me in ways I desperately long for and those only God knows I need. But the first step is mine in our covenant: Be aware of God’s presence. Not only when it’s easy, when surrounded by believers, or when things are great; in the subzero walk to class, when fears take over, and in every frustration and triumph.

I pray for strength in that journey. True, active listening is difficult. It requires openness in moments I’d rather crawl under a rock or believe my way is best.

And it’s terrifying—but beautiful—as vulnerability in any relationship is.

I’m fully aware of challenges ahead. But I know that as I continue to hear Him, my heart will grow strong and supple. I’m grateful Jesus meets me in struggles and fears, embracing me for them. As my mind turns to “what-ifs,” he says: Listen.

Pope Francis asks us to let our hearts “be pierced by the Spirit, so as to bring love along the roads that lead to our brothers and sisters.” Christ walks with us along these roads, speaking within and through us; awaiting the moment we begin not by talking, but by listening.

I’m ready to listen; to say yes; to be changed.

Questions for Reflection: 
When do you find it hardest to listen for God’s voice?
Pray the Examen and be aware of God’s presence. What is He saying to you?

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Colleen McClain
Colleen is a second-year graduate student in the Michigan Program in Survey Methodology, and a member of the graduate student/young professional and Small Church Community lead teams at St. Mary Student Parish. She has been a resident of Ann Arbor for ten years and can’t overstate the impact St. Mary has had on her life.
Email: camcclai@umich.edu

A Lenten Examen on the RCIA Experience

Written by Paul Parker on Wednesday of the First Week of Lent

Recently I have had the privilege to participate in the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA) through St. Mary Student Parish, led by Rita Zyber, Fr. Eric Sundrup, S.J., and many dedicated volunteers. When I started college, I entered a period of my life in which I neglected God. Back then, He was something I could put on hold: “I’ll go to church, right after this big exam,” I would often say to justify what was actually lack of interest in God. That all changed when I attended a St. Mary’s Mass by way of a Catholic friend. For the first time in several years, I felt completely at home in a church community. The welcoming parishioners, ministers, and priests, were quite a surprise to a Protestant-raised boy like me, who previously only saw the Catholic faith as stiff, antiquated, and living up to the, “smells and bells” stereotype.

At St. Mary I soon found God gradually making his way back into my life. The Masses at St. Mary touched me and allowed me to reflect and think about my life, how I had drifted from the Lord, yet how I was still serving him at the same time. I found that simple prayer and listening to the liturgy being celebrated each week to fill me with such a sense of peace and belonging. I began seriously considering the Catholic faith as more than just another denomination, but an ancient tradition with incredible devotion to Christ, one which I began to desire to become a part of. By last summer, through listening to God’s call and his blessings in my life, I knew: the time had come for me to become Catholic myself.

Since beginning the RCIA process not long ago, I could not be happier with my choice. Listening and reflecting on God’s call to enter this faith, the wonderful staff who leads RCIA, as well as my sponsor, Andrew Morris, have more than convinced me this is my church home. I look forward to this Lenten season as a time to further grow in my faith in preparation for my final sacraments of First Eucharist and Confirmation, and finally enter into full communion with the Catholic Church.

Questions for Reflection & Suggestion for Prayer:
How do you see God calling to you? In what ways can you listen to his call and understand the blessings he bestows?
Say a prayer asking God for clarity, for the sense to listen to him and understand the way he’s working in your life.

Paul Parker
Paul is a senior at the University of Michigan, studying Cell & Molecular Biology and Biomedical Engineering. After graduating with his Bachelor’s this May, he will return to the University of Michigan next fall to be a graduate student, getting his Master’s in Biomedical Engineering.
Email: prparker@umich.edu

Listen Up!

Written by Rita Zyber on Monday of the First Week of Lent

When I was younger, I never quite understood how people could “hear” God speaking to them. I remember a friend who once said, “The Lord told me to cut my hair.”

I smiled politely, but I was really thinking, “geez, doesn’t God have bigger stuff to deal with – like war and famine and disease?” Looking back now, I can see that I was wrong. After all, didn’t Jesus tell us that every hair on our head is counted? (Mt 10: 30).

Also, I can see now that my friend’s hairstyle was only part of God’s transforming work in her life. She had been making some big choices and big changes. She was not only experiencing a new look, but a whole new outlook.

Deacon Romolo here at St. Mary’s has a wonderful way of explaining divine inspiration. “The Lord laid it on my heart,” he often says. It sounds a little saner than telling people you hear voices. It makes better sense to me, too. We may not hear an actual voice, but in some situations, we feel moved to do or say something. Somehow, we just know what’s right.

It takes a little work, though, and the right attitude. I’ve learned that when I’m able to open my mind and heart, that’s when God is able to open my ears. Recently, he’s been sending me an earful. No static, just a strong signal telling me not to sweat the small stuff and not to fear the path I’m on.

For me, the messages usually come through scripture. Makes sense. I’m a word person and God tends to meet us in a way that fits us best. A few months ago, I happened to encounter the same passage from St. Paul three times in two weeks. It’s the one where he tells us to think about “whatever is honorable… whatever is lovely… and worthy of praise”. (Philippians 4: 8-9). Then, another random thing happened and I was confronted with a similar line from St. Paul, “hold on to what is good.” (Romans 12: 9).

So that’s what I’m doing; just holding on to the good – and noticing, more and more, what an abundance of good there really is in the world. So thanks, God, for the tender care you show us. I’m glad we had this little talk.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uqF4N7rdV-w]

Questions for Reflection:
How do you hear the voice of God?
Does God speak to you through other people, or maybe through nature, art, music?
When does it seem easiest to hear God’s message?

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Rita Zyber
Rita joined the St. Mary Student Parish staff in June to assist with RCIA sessions. She has previous staff experience at St. Francis of Assisi Parish in Ann Arbor, as well as years of volunteer service in religious education, stewardship, music ministry and RCIA. She is also a freelance writer and former newspaper reporter. She and her husband, Frank, have two college-age daughters, Claire and Lauren.
Contact: rzyber@smspnewman.org

Create a Desert

Written by Brendan Dailey on the First Sunday of Lent

What is Lent all about? Frankly, I kind of struggle with this question. Growing up, it was that slightly inconvenient period where I gave up pop and chocolate so that 6 or so weeks later, I could get rewarded with a whole bunch of chocolate that some gigantic (yet impossibly discreet) bunny had cleverly hidden around my house. Clearly I wasn’t quite getting the point then, but even in more recent years, I’ve still spent my Lents ‘sacrificing’ different things, or trying to ‘fix’ some of the things I do that I shouldn’t. And that’s fine, but that’s not exactly the model that Jesus gives us in his own Lenten journey.

Today at Mass we hear that “the Spirit drove Jesus out into the desert” for forty days. Deserts are empty, just barren wastelands. Jesus didn’t go out there to heal anybody or perform any great miracles. Rather, he went there to be alone, with God. Chronologically, Jesus had just been baptized, his public ministry only just beginning. He is retreating to the desert, presumably to discover what God wants for him.

I think this is a part of our Lenten call too. Find a way to create a modern day barren wasteland. Take some time away from the TV, from the computer, from whatever it is that consumes our time, and retreat to that space where God waits for us, in the silence. Once we’ve peeled away all of the distractions, the superficial desires, the things our culture might tell us we want and need, only then can we really discover what our true desires are. Then can we know what God wants for us, and to where God is calling us. God speaks in a whisper. It is up to us to turn down the volume of all the white noise, so that we might be able to listen.

Questions for Reflection:
How can I create a ‘desert’ in my every day life?
What do I truly desire out of life?

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Brendan Dailey
Brendan is an alumnus of the University of Michigan, where he works as an IT professional. He is a member of the Graduate/Young Professional group lead team at St. Mary Student Parish.
Email: bdailey@umich.edu