Author: abraun

Love STILL takes the Risk

Written by Abby Braun on the Fourth Sunday of Advent

This is no time for a child to be born,
With the earth betrayed by war and hate
And a comet slashing the sky to warn
That time runs out and the sun burns late.

That was no time for a child to be born,
In a land in the crushing grip of Rome;
Honour and truth were trampled by scorn–
Yet here did the Saviour make his home.

When is the time for love to be born?
The inn is full on the planet earth,
And by a comet the sky is torn–
Yet Love still takes the risk of birth.

-The Risk of Birth, An Advent Poem
– Madeleine L’Engle (1973)

Darkness is the word that has resonated with me the most this Advent season. The world feels heavy these days, full of so much violence, hatred, and fear. We prepare our hearts for the coming of Christ on December 25, but we know that it won’t be a magic fix for the problems of the world. Christmas will come and go, and terrorism, poverty, racism and injustice of all kinds will still exist. The struggles in our own lives will not disappear.

Fr. John Ferrone said recently that he often feels like he is perpetually in the season of Advent, that it never really ends. Amen to that. This week we will celebrate the birth of Jesus, remembering that day two thousand years ago that our savior was born and also rejoicing that Christ continues to make a home within each one of us. And yet we will still find ourselves waiting for that second coming of Christ, for God to redeem all that is broken in our world and in our own hearts.

For some strange reason, I find relief in the knowledge that the world in which Mary conceived and gave birth was just as troubled as our world is today. God chose to be born into that messy world and ever since has chosen to be born into the mess and chaos of our current reality. Indeed, Love still takes the risk of birth. That Love may not have “fixed” all the problems just yet, but it makes a big difference if we allow it.

I read an interesting reflection by Krista Tippet yesterday and was especially struck by this line: “There is something audacious and mysterious and reality-affirming in the assertion that has stayed alive for two thousand years that God took on eyes and ears and hands and feet, hunger and tears and laughter and the full, joy and pain and gratitude and our terrible, redemptive human need for each other.” Yes, that is exactly it. Our redemptive human need for each other.

This is what today’s Gospel is about.  Elizabeth and Mary needed one another to bring John and Jesus into the world. We need one another too. We need each other as we cooperate with God to continue to bring Christ into the world. This is also a risky venture, to rely on one another.  But Love has paved the way for us. So let us remember, as we enter into this final week of Advent, that we were created to walk this road together. Let us take the risk to be companions on the journey.

Questions for Reflection:
Where are you most in need of help or companionship from someone else?
What is keeping you from taking the risk?

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Abby Braun
Abby has served as a campus minister at St. Mary’s since 2012.  After studying theology at the University of Notre Dame (BA ’05) and Pastoral Ministry at the University of Dayton (MA ’08), Abby spent four years as a Campus Minister at Saint Louis University where she met her husband, Bob.  She is especially grateful to be a part of a Jesuit Parish that serves a University community.  Abby works part-time at St. Mary’s and spends the rest of her days at home/toddling around Ann Arbor with her daughter, Eleanor.
Email: [email protected]

*Image credit: Visitation by Mary Southard, CSJ

Strength in the Darkness

Written by  Colleen McClain on Friday of the Third Week of Advent

Advent often feels like a “wake-up call” of the most intimate sort.  I imagine a hushed, excited voice calling out to me: Prepare! Awake! Arise!

But as on many frosty mornings, it takes me a moment to get up.  Even at the end of this third week of Advent, my heart longing for Christ, I lie in the dark and pause.

Am I really ready?

It’s in this pause—breath before speech; darkness before light; silence before rising—that God waits for me. The pause is quietly beautiful and piercingly difficult.  With all my walls and comfort zones stripped away, leaving just my heart and His presence, do I quiver from excited restlessness?  Or is that fear?

I imagine it’s a bit of both, and that Joseph’s reaction upon waking wasn’t all that different.  We hear of his dream in today’s Gospel.  The angel of the Lord appears in the dark of night and reassures him: Do not be afraid.

I’m reminded that even in the darkness, I’m far from the first to feel this way—nor the first to be rescued and embraced.  Tidings of comfort and joy, indeed.

So I continue, one cautious foot in front of the other, God with me.  A pilgrimage sometimes easy and sometimes excruciating; some steps blocked by my remaining, most stubborn of thorns; but all of them toward a wellspring of mercy and the radiance of Christ.

And there, in the darkness with all else stripped away, comes strength.  Perhaps my prayer is as song—the pause not just a rest, a breath between moments or measures, but a lift propelling me forward to a stronger voice.

O Leader of the House of Israel,
giver of the Law to Moses on Sinai:
come to rescue us with your mighty power!
-O Antiphons, December 18

Suggestion for Prayer/ Questions for Reflection:
Spend some time in the silence this week.
Where does the coming light of Christ touch you?
What does it illuminate?
What needs to be stripped away for you to receive His light?

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Colleen McClain
Colleen is a PhD student in the Michigan Program in Survey Methodology at the Institute for Social Research (ISR).  When not at ISR, she can still usually be found on Thompson Street—serving with the Grad/YP and Small Church Community leadership teams or the noon choir at St. Mary Student Parish—or taking up residence at a coffeeshop a few blocks away.
Email: [email protected]

Family Trees and the Paschal Mystery

Written by Michael Miller on Thursday of the Third Week of Advent

Each Christmas vacation, I have to travel a long way to see my family. While on the road, I anticipate a number of things: freshly baked molasses cookies, being in a (slightly) warmer climate and lots of laughter. I am related to some genuinely hilarious people and, soon after arrival, I can expect my cheeks to be hurting after hours of jokes and funny stories.

I hear about the latest antics of my nieces and nephews. We tell the stories that get told every year about that one time you-know-who did you-know-what. Although it’s been told so many times we know it by heart, we still laugh as if it was the first time we ever heard it.

While I love to share in this joy and laughter, I await other kinds of stories. These are the stories of suffering and struggle that are hard to hear. I’ll learn about the cousin who is having a hard time in school or the uncle who had to have an emergency open heart surgery.

In today’s Gospel, Matthew gives us the genealogy of Jesus Christ. This places Jesus in the context of salvation history and connects him to key figures like Abraham and King David. At first glance, it is simply a list of names – many of which are too difficult for me to pronounce and don’t seem to mean anything. But, if I look a little closer, I see the names of many of our foremothers and forefathers, each of whom has a lifetime of stories. The community Matthew was writing for would know their names and know their stories. Each person on Jesus’ family tree would have fun hilarious stories as well as stories of heartbreak and sorrow.

I hear these stories as an invitation to enter into the Paschal Mystery – Jesus’ life, suffering, death and resurrection. It is our hope, that, as followers of Christ, we share not only in His joy and suffering of life, but also in His resurrection. Our stories can serve as a reminder to fully enter into the Paschal Mystery.

Suggestion for Prayer/ Question for Reflection:
Listen for all the stories shared at your next family gathering.
How do these stories connect you with the Paschal Mystery?

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Michael Miller, Jr.
Michael is a husband, father and Regional Chief Mission Officer for Saint Joseph Mercy Health System. He’s studied philosophy, theology and bioethics, but wishes he would have paid more attention in that computer science class during the spring semester of ‘96. You can follow him on twitter @michaelmillerjr.
Email: [email protected]

Suffering: the Pathway to Growth and Joy

Written by Bill Sbordon on Wednesday of the Third Week of Advent

Emmanuel means, “God with us”. We need to remember in our times of trial that God sent us Jesus as a new light for love and hope, and that he is always with us as we prepare for his birth this Advent.

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“…affliction produces endurance, and endurance, character, and character, hope, and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” – Romans, 5:3-5

When I was young, I’d often go to the lake with my family in the summer. My favorite toy to bring to the beach was a boogie-board. While out in the water, one of the games my sister and I created was to see who could stand on the board the longest when it was underwater. No matter how long we tried to stay on, the force that pushed up on the boogie-board would always drive it up to the surface, and leave it floating on the water.

It’s difficult to staying floating when everything around you tries to keep you submerged. Every person goes through a period of suffering in his/her life. You may feel lonely; you may feel like your trial will never end. It will – it always does. In our vulnerability during this time, our relationship with God will grow so much deeper than it already is. We’ll gain endurance, character, and most importantly, hope. God fills us with his love in our hope. He’s always there for you. He wants you to become the person you can be.

In the end, suffering is a pathway to growth and joy. Our suffering produces a greater love with God. He’s the force that pushes you out of your hard times and into a new, joyous person. Like the boogie-board, you won’t stay submerged forever. You’ll fly out of the depths and into a new light.

Questions for Reflection:  
How do I stay afloat in troubled times? How has God helped me in my suffering?

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Bill Sbordon
Bill is a young professional and part of the Grad Student/Young Professionals group at St. Mary’s. He graduated from the University of Michigan as an industrial engineer in 2012 and has been a part of St. Mary Student Parish since 2014.
Email: [email protected]

Change your Minds

Written by Rita Zyber on Tuesday of the Third Week of Advent

It’s pink candle week, the time in Advent when we focus on the joy that awaits us – simply because of God’s great love for us and the super-abundance of gifts he showers on us.

Today’s readings certainly give us cause for joy. Jesus shows us (despite the tricky questions) that we always have a chance to repent – to change our minds and believe.

I am honored to have the job of coordinating our RCIA sessions, which help people to learn and grow in the Catholic faith. We focus a lot on conversion, though we rarely use that word. In reality, our candidates are the ones who show us about true conversion. Somehow, somewhere, they’ve heard God calling. They have responded and are working hard toward greater belief. Their unique stories feed my own faith every year.

St. Paul reminds us that conversion happens when we are able to think and act so much like Christ that we literally “clothe ourselves” in Christ (Galatians 3: 27) and become a new creation. So conversion is about turning away from the distractions of life – from anything that’s an obstacle to God. It’s about slowly shifting our minds – and hearts – so that they are in alignment with God, like a flower that bends toward the sun.

Of course, that’s not always easy. Jesus reminds us that there’s a lot of work to do in the vineyard. In all of our human-ness, we don’t always run willingly to do that work. Conversion is an ongoing process for all of us. Sometimes we get it right, sometimes we don’t. But what joy we have in knowing that we can always try again. It’s simple, Jesus says, “change your minds and believe.”

Questions for Reflection:
Have I failed to follow through on an action that might help someone else?
What distraction can I turn away from today in order to turn closer to God?

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Rita Zyber
Rita joined the staff in June of 2014 to assist with RCIA sessions. Rita 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. She and her husband, Frank, have two college-age daughters, Claire and Lauren.
Email: [email protected]

Surrender to the Truth

Towards the Light

Written by Bill Alt on the Third Sunday of Advent

She just wanted to play soccer, a little girl with blond hair and smiles. She just wanted to run on a field with friends and kick a ball, laughing, with no worries and her life laying out ahead of her.  Her mom was there on the sidelines, so proud of her daughter, so much in love. As they walked to their car at the end of practice, did they talk about school and what Emma liked about her teacher? Did Emma ask to stop for a special treat before heading home and did her Mom say no, it’s getting late and it’s a school night? Did her Mom ask what Emma thought Santa might bring her for Christmas and what she would like to give Grandma and Grandpa? In an instant, all the questions, all the silly, simple, beautiful, and wonderful moments of loving a seven year-old were stopped forever when a family friend with a legally purchased firearm shot and killed little Emma, critically wounded her mom, and then turned the gun on himself.

My son is seven years old and every night before I go to bed, I give him a blessing as he sleeps. I make the sign of the cross on his forehead and I say, “I love you, my little prince. May God bless you and keep you safe all night long.” I don’t think- I can’t think- that he could ever be taken from me. It is too painful and scary to think about, but someone will be next. Some mom and dad will be broken beyond repair, some holiday party will host mass murderers, some young black man will not come home tonight, and some refugees will be turned back by hatred and fear.  I weep and my heart is filled with anguish as I cry out, “Why? Why is it into this world that Christ is born?”

Yes, I believe Christ is born into our deepest darkness. I believe Christ weeps with us there but also points us towards the light. Christ shows that death, suffering, and evil will not have the last word. Love, forgiveness, peace, goodness, and mercy will prevail. It will prevail because God asks us to bear Christ to the world; Christ is born into our world when we show kindness, when we give thanks in all things, and when we roll down justice. This is the joy I rejoice in. I want the Prince of Peace to be born now, no more delays, into this troubled and bruised world so that little girls and little boys can come home safe from soccer practice. Come, Lord Jesus, come!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=95itEHED8Hk

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Bill Alt
Bill is St. Mary’s Campus Minister for Social Justice. He lives in Ypsilanti with his wife, Angie, and two sons, Jacob and Patrick.  They have worshiped at St. Mary Student Parish since 2012. They miss the mountains of West Virginia but have found a home in Michigan.
Email: [email protected]

Going Outside the Church… (Walls)

Written by Jessica Montgomery on the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe

When I first began working in Hispanic Ministry, I was extremely nervous.  I wasn’t nervous about my ability to speak Spanish, but about being an outsider in this community.  Despite being able to hold a conversation, I worried my accent would be a barrier.  In addition to that, my pale white skin made it obvious that I’m not Hispanic. I was afraid that my status as an outsider would prevent me from serving the community.

Yet as I began my work, it was clear that I should not have feared being an outsider.  Now when I see people in passing, I am consistently greeted with a Hispanic hospitality that I now know and love.  As I became more familiar with Hispanic spirituality, this hospitality became even more apparent to me, particularly in the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

Juan Diego, a poor Aztec convert to Catholicism, encountered the Virgin Mary when he was on his way to the chapel.  She asked him to build a church so that the Aztec people could come to know her and God.

The most striking thing about this story is not simply that she appeared to Juan, but how she appeared to him.  Instead of showing up as a white woman, similar to the images that the Spanish clergy used, she appeared as mestizo with dark skin and hair.  Her appearance promoted the mestizaje (roughly translating to “mixture” in English) of the Church and showed that all people are welcome into the church, not just white westerners.  Her appearance demonstrated that Juan Diego’s people belong, and that they are not outsiders, but are a part of the Catholic Church.

Our Lady of Guadalupe has showed me the importance of this mestizaje, this mixture of the Church.  Her visitation stresses that as a Church, we must be welcoming and willing to meet people as they are.  We cannot make positions of power out of our membership in the Church, but instead use this membership as a way to connect with people and accompany them in our shared faith journey.

Question for Reflection:
How can I share my faith journey with others in a way that is inviting?

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Jessica Montgomery
Jessica is a senior from Plymouth, Michigan majoring in Biomolecular Sciences and Spanish and is the St. Mary’s intern for the Hispanic/Latino Sacramental Preparation Program. She is also involved in the Alternative Spring Break program at St. Mary and loves volunteering at C.S. Mott Children’s Hospital. After graduation, she will pursue her medical degree and would love to work with Doctors Without Borders.
Email: [email protected]

Knock. Knock.

Written by Tony Moskus on Friday of the Second Week of Advent

Is it me calling out in the desert to prepare the way of the Lord? How could it be me? The winding road made straight should be paved right over me. I am a sinner.  How can I even dare to look in the Lord’s direction, let alone prepare His way? Time and time again, I have proven to be unworthy. When will His patience with me expire?

The answer is never. How do I know? As with most questions about Christ’s love and mercy, I can look to the cross. There He says, “I thirst.” By saying this, He not only fulfills Scripture, but He is speaking of His desire for all of us to follow Him.

In Revelation, Jesus gives us another image of His desire for us, He says, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.” There He stands patiently waiting for us to open the door to Him. Jesus stands on the other side knowing everything about us, even our sins, yet there He is. It is hard for me to imagine Jesus not only waiting patiently at the door for me, but longing for me, hoping to have the joy of being my savior.

In this Second Week of Advent, we wait. We wait for the joyous anniversary of Christ’s birth, and His triumphant return. However, there is another waiting. The waiting that Christ does for us to open the door to Him, giving Him what He longs for, us.

Suggestion for Prayer and Question for Reflection:
Mother Teresa says in the voice of Christ, “You have tried many other things in your search for happiness; why not try opening your heart to Me, right now, more than you ever have before.” Can you try to open you heart more than ever before? Before you answer, listen to this 8 minute meditation based on the teachings of Mother Teresa titled, “I Thirst for You.”

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Tony Moskus
Tony is a parishioner of St. Mary Student Parish with his wife, Penelope, and sons, Adam (15), Brian (13), and Alex (10). He is a teacher at St. Patrick Catholic School in Brighton.
Email: [email protected]

Season of Sacred Pregnancy

Written by Sharon Diotte on Thursday of the Second Week of Advent

Jesus gestating within the belly of woman,
Christ gestating within the consciousness of all.

During Advent, excitement escalates as we anticipate Christmas morning when we will again celebrate the birth of Jesus into our world. What do we mean when we say Jesus was fully human and fully divine? It means we believe that Jesus became fully conscious of the Cosmic Christ – the template of harmony through which all is sourced and by which all is infused. He came to know that he was not separate from God. Jesus said “I and the Father are one” and he modeled what life looks like when we live each day as though the presence of God within ourselves, within all people and within all things, really matters.

Each Advent we wait expectantly for the rebirth of Christ within each of us. Advent is not a passive season. Each of us prepares ourselves through prayer, sacred readings and meditation, knowing that we are all part of the Whole evolving in Christ consciousness. The second coming of Christ is not an isolated future event. It is the ongoing evolution of Christ consciousness within every woman, man and child.

During this Advent season may we, each and all, earnestly and joyfully follow Jesus the Christ into Christ consciousness. May we remember that we are not each separate but each part of the Whole.

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Sharon Diotte
Sharon is a retired parishioner at St. Mary Student Parish.
Contact: [email protected]