Lenten Blog

Finding Mercy in a Familiar Place

Written by Jon Perry on Thursday of the Fifth Week of Lent

We have all heard the passage of Jesus walking on water many times, but I want to call to attention something we all struggle with. This is a great example of the daily trials we face as Catholics. We all think we know it all sometimes and I know I personally will do anything to avoid asking for help. There is certainly no problem with being motivated, driven and excited about attaining a goal we have set forth for ourselves. Certainly it is God’s will, to utilize the talents and gifts He blessed us with to reach our goals. The mistake we often make however, is believing that we as humans and children of God are expected to walk this journey alone. We frequently get lost in our desires and believe we are capable of doing it all on our own.

After we challenge Jesus as Peter did, we begin to walk on the water (traverse whatever challenge we may face) without issue. We believe that we can handle it; we are overcoming the issue by ourselves. We couldn’t be more wrong. As the story goes, “But when he saw how (strong) the wind was he became frightened; and, beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’” Isn’t it true that every time we come to a point we cannot pass, we call on Jesus? We thought before we could handle it by ourselves, but it was our faith and trust in Jesus that kept us going, kept us safe. As soon as we begin to doubt Jesus, we begin to sink.

We often deal with disappointment, failure and a sense of not knowing. We feel confident in whatever we are doing, but as soon as we shift our focus off Jesus and on to our own personal agendas, we begin to sink.

At the end of the passage we encounter Jesus’ forgiveness. “Immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and caught him, and said to him ‘Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt?’” This is Jesus saying, “Why are you taking all of this on by yourself? I am here to help you, keep your eyes focused on me and together you can achieve anything.”

Questions for Reflection:
Now thinking about the grace and forgiveness Jesus offers, can you think of a time you tried to rely on yourself to accomplish a goal?
When you were not successful, did you quickly turn to Jesus for blame?
Spend a few minutes reflecting on the fact that Jesus isn’t upset with you for your sin and for ignoring/blaming Him, he loves you eternally.

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Jon Perry
Jon is a junior studying Sport Management within the School of Kinesiology at U of M. He is 21 years old, intends to graduate in 2017 and is from Farmington, Michigan. In addition to being involved at St. Mary’s, he is a member of the service fraternity Alpha Phi Omega, the social Christian fraternity Beta Upsilon Chi and plays on the U of M Club Baseball team.
Email:perryjon@umich.edu

Happily Ever After: A Lesson in Mercy

Written by Amy Ketner on Wednesday of the Fifth Week of Lent

Sometimes romantic comedies and Disney love stories really frustrate me.  They always seem to end at the fairy-tale moments – the kiss, the proposal, the happily-ever-after.  Well, anyone who has been in a long-term relationship (I imagine especially those who have been married for many years) can attest to the fact that relationships are never simply a happily-ever-after.  They are complicated, messy and a lot of work, and there is pain, growth and beauty in that.

In a similar way, I often find myself struggling with Scripture stories.  They are packed with parables and moments in Jesus’ life in which he shares powerful messages for all to hear and learn from.  But many times they leave me desiring more.  For example, in last Sunday’s Gospel about the woman who was caught in adultery, the story ends when all the scribes and Pharisees leave Jesus alone with the woman.  None have condemned her after all, and Jesus said “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”  The story ends there.

I can’t help but wonder what the scribes and Pharisees continued to feel and reflect upon that day.  Did they truly forgive the woman or did they continue to judge her?  And the woman – was she able to forgive herself?  I find it harder to forgive myself than others, even when I know God has already shown mercy on me.  Perhaps that woman also experienced what I experience.  I wonder if it was hard for her to “sin no more”.

In thinking similarly about the Prodigal Son, I ponder the story from a new angle, as Fr. Eric encouraged last week.  My new angle is one not mentioned in the parable: what happens after the party??  After any big falling out, it’s often uncomfortable or awkward to start rebuilding the relationship, even when forgiveness has been granted.  Can you imagine how the older brother must have felt as he learned to let go of his pride and love his brother again?  Or the younger brother as he let go of his shame and let his family back into his life?

Mercy is messy.  It’s a long process of letting go of pride and hurt, of being humble and letting others back into our lives.  It’s learning to accept and love others and ourselves again, in spite of a rough history or bad track record.  Mercy is certainly not a simple happily-ever-after story, but if we really work at it – if we push through the uncomfortable, the awkward, and the humility – we can discover something truly beautiful.

Questions for Reflection:
Where am I finding it hardest to follow through in mercy?
Where can I invite in God’s grace to help me be humble and persistent enough to heal relationships with others, God or myself?

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Amy Ketner
Originally from the Flint area, Amy first moved to Ann Arbor to study sociology at UM (’13). As an undergraduate, she found a home away from home at St Mary’s.  After graduation, Amy volunteered for two years in Santiago, Chile through the Jesuit Volunteer Corps.  She recently returned to the United States and is excited to be back at SMSP working part time as a Campus Ministry Associate.
Email: aketner@smspnewman.org

Who am I? Who are You?

Written by Carolyn Burns on Tuesday of the Fifth Week of Lent

Lent is journey of forty days in the church’s calendar. For some of us, however, the journey in the desert lasts longer than forty days. Moses wandered for forty years and only saw the Promised Land from a mountain top. For the past few years I have felt and understand that sense of wandering. For most of us deserts are more than just sand. What we long for is a place of more than milk and honey. We crave authentic connection with others- with something beyond ourselves.

As my life has progressed and those I have loved and cared for have gone and relationships have fallen away, I ask myself who am I if I cannot see myself in those whom I have loved and spent my life with? My son died when he was twenty. I lost my job in the great recession of 2008. One building block after another has crumbled, leading me to question my very identity. Who am I if the foundation on which I built my life is fragmented?

In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus is trying to communicate who He is to those about him with what seems like only partial success. So often I have felt that same difficulty communicating who I am, how I got here and why, trying to share experiences with words that fail. For those of us stumbling around trying to convey where we have been and what we have seen, the words of Jesus “He who has sent me is trustworthy. . . He has not left me alone” offer solace and hope. The people listening to Jesus are confused by his words, by who he is, and yet Jesus offers them consolation. In the end we are not alone and can depend on the Father. Lent gives way to Easter morning.

Lord, as I yearn for others to understand who I am, I ask for help in listening to other people as they speak of their backgrounds and what they have seen and heard. Give me the patience to listen with mercy, kindness and generosity so I can begin to understand them more deeply. And help me to see you reflected in their lives so I may know who you are as well.

Questions for Reflection
How would I answer the question put to Jesus? Who am I? What are the elements that make up my identity?
Do I listen closely to other people when they share their stories, or just wait for my turn to speak?
Am I trying to get to know who Jesus is and understand him at a deeper level?
Amid the confusion of life, is my faith with the Father?

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Carolyn Burns
Carolyn came to Ann Arbor for graduate school over thirty years ago and stayed. She has degrees from NYU, Bank St College of Education and the University of Michigan. She has been a teacher for many years, beginning with preschool children in New York City and then college students throughout southeastern Michigan. Her area is psychology with a focus on child development. She was a member of St Mary’s in the early 1980’s and has recently returned to the parish where she is involved in the Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults.
Email: cmeburns07@gmail.com

Driven to be Merciful

Written by Andrew Morris on Monday of the Fifth Week of Lent

I love driving.

There is nothing more relaxing to me than hopping in a car, blasting the radio, and taking an aimless summer drive around town. But there is nothing I find more irritating than slow drivers in the wrong lane, or even worse, people trying to turn left across several lanes of traffic during rush hour. Just as the light turns green it seems, someone decides now is the time to turn left out of that corner gas station and nudges their car forward into the first lane of traffic, which has stopped for them. Leaving the drivers in the next lane with a choice to stop for them too, or to keep driving on.

My first reaction is just frustration. Why can’t people just follow the rules?! Don’t they see how dangerous of a situation they are making; can’t they wait a minute for a natural opening in traffic instead of holding everyone up? I should teach them a lesson by being “that guy” that just zooms past in the other lane. But on further reflection; I too have been the person desperately trying to turn out from somewhere only to be forced to wait endless minutes. Why then am I so irritated that I had to stop and show such a simple (and trivial) act of mercy?

In Pope Francis’s declaration of this Jubilee Year of Mercy he remarks “If God limited himself to only justice, he would cease to be God, and would instead be like human beings who ask merely that the law be respected….God goes beyond justice with his mercy and forgiveness” Humans have such a strong desire for fairness and justice that sometimes we seem to forget that justice and punishment alone are not an end, but rather are a part of a process that should lead to some form of reconciliation. It is easy to condemn and punish; but forgiveness (which is what is actually fulfilling) is much harder. When I keep in mind examples of mercy and compassion that were shown to me, I am much better at recognizing opportunities to show the same toward others, which is far more satisfying than beating a traffic light.

Questions for Reflection:
In what ways do I find it difficult to show some form of mercy to someone even if I can recognize situations when mercy was shown to me?
Have I ever let a desire for justice prevent me from acting with love and mercy toward others?

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Andrew Morris
Andrew recently graduated from U of M with a BSE in Chemical Engineering. His dream car is the Delorean DMC-12, which is as nerdy as it sounds.
Email: andrewtm@umich.edu

Filled with Joy

Written by Karen Thomas on the Fifth Sunday of Lent

As I begin the fifth week of Lent I must resist the temptation to abandon the desert and leap straight to Easter Sunday.  I am foolishly lulled into the belief that I have done my due diligence of praying, fasting, and almsgiving.  Surrounded by a fast paced culture, I mistakenly tell myself that certainly four weeks is more than enough time to focus on my interior life and outward actions.  

Fortunately, the wisdom of God through the scriptures calls me back to the importance of staying with Him in this fifth week and not abandoning the desert too quickly.  The psalm this week calls me to dig deep to acknowledge where the Lord has been working in my life this Lent and this past year.  As I uncover the Lord’s presence in my life, I am encouraged to make sense of both the blessings and the challenges.  In dissecting the challenges in my life the prophet Isaiah’s words, “see, I am doing something new!” bring me great comfort.  I know that if I hold on tight to the Lord during the challenges he will bring me out of captivity and into the light.  As I am brought into the light and have the opportunity to laugh and rejoice, I rest in the promise of the resurrection and the knowledge that the light always overcomes the darkness.  

As I challenge myself to stay with the Lord in this fifth week of Lent, I am grateful for the companionship of others in the Church who are also on this journey.  As I acknowledge the great things the Lord has done for me, I am also called to acknowledge what he has done for us as a community.  Despite all of the pain and suffering  in our world, the Lord is indeed doing great things for all of us.  In honestly sharing our stories of challenge and joy as a community we can more fully see how the Lord is working in the world.  As we linger together in the desert for a few more days, we do so knowing that soon we will share in the joy of the resurrection.

Questions for Reflection:
What Lenten commitment do you need to re-engage this fifth week of Lent?
Who do you share your joy with?  How can you encourage others to recognize the good things that the Lord has done for them?

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Karen Thomas
Karen is a native of Southeast Michigan and a graduate of the University of Michigan.  Prior to her work at SMSP, she served and worked with the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, completed an MA in Pastoral Ministry at Marygrove College in Detroit, and was trained in the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd method of religious education.  She serves as the Campus Minister for Family Faith Formation and lives in Ann Arbor with her husband Mike and two daughters.
Email: kbthomas@smspnewman.org

Dear Jesus

Written by Natasha Lovely on Saturday of the Fourth Week of Lent

Open my heart Jesus. Open my heart to seek You. Open my heart to know You. Open my heart to make a home in You.

Lord, It seems like just yesterday I was preparing my heart for You to come into this world, and now in just a few short weeks, You will be preforming the greatest act of love for the world…for me. Jesus, thank You for loving me so much. I can’t help but wonder how You are feeling today. As I reflect on today’s Gospel my heart becomes restless. Everyone around You is so divided; yet they know that You are someone special. When the officers were about to arrest You, they stopped and simply couldn’t. “Never before has anyone spoken like Him”.

“Never before has anyone spoken like Him.” How do I speak? How do I speak about You? How do I speak about others? How do I speak about myself? Words are clearly so powerful. Jesus, You taught me not to judge or condemn anyone. You taught me to listen with understanding, and speak with compassion. You taught me to love everyone, even my enemies. Jesus, help me to be more like You with my words; help me to speak words that bring people closer to knowing You. Help me see everyone like You do.

Open my heart Jesus. Open my heart to You.

Amen.

Question for Reflection:
How will you open your heart to Christ in these last two weeks of Lent?

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Natasha Lovely
Natasha is a graduate of the University of Cincinnati who recently moved to Ann Arbor in order to pursue a Master’s of Social Work degree from the University of Michigan. Upon graduating in December 2016, she hopes to travel around the world continuing to do missions.
Email: lovelynl@umich.edu

What is Home?

Written by Meredith Burke on Friday of the Fourth Week of Lent

Reflecting on the theme for this week, “Cast to return home,” I thought about the varying meanings of the word, “home.” Home can mean a physical structure that one returns or does not return to each day. It can mean a community of people who provide support and refuge. It can mean finding a home with God and living out that beautifully complex relationship.

For me, “home” has become all of those things. But the meaning of “home” has also been a source of frustrations and questions. Helping serve at St. Mary’s daytime warming shelter and overnight shelter, I have continued to realize that finding and being “home” can be an incredible challenge and journey. There are many systematic and personal barriers, such as employment and mental health, that can largely dictate where one goes to find “home” in life.

A couple weeks ago, St. Mary’s hosted an event where community members could share their stories of immigration. It was a powerful experience that has led me to reflect on many aspects of American society that I take for granted as a U.S. citizen.

It’s hard to imagine a life of never knowing if “home” even exists. I will never know what it feels like to go to a completely new country to establish a better life but my life not be valued. I will never know what it feels like to be undocumented and live in constant stress, struggle, and fear.

I will never know how it feels to have people who don’t look like me and do not personally know what it’s like to be an immigrant decide my fate and what I can and cannot call “home.”

While I do not know what it’s like to experience homelessness or be an immigrant, that does not mean I cannot stand in solidarity with my fellow brothers and sisters. It means that I must help advocate so that all have a place to call “home.” Because in the end, we all have a home in heaven, don’t we?

Questions for Reflection:
Where do you find “home” spiritually, emotionally, and physically?
How can you be of service to others who may be struggling to find “home”?

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Meredith Burke
Meredith is wrapping up her senior year at UM and is happy to share that she will begin a year of service with the Jesuit Volunteer Corps in August. She will be tromping around (but mostly working) at UM’s Botanical Gardens this summer, so you’ll likely see her adventuring around Ann Arbor and at St. Mary’s from time to time. Meredith is St. Mary’s Intern for Social Justice Ministry, and her overall mission is to help make this world a more socially and environmentally sustainable place for all.
Email: merburke@umich.edu

Welcome Home – Open Door, Open Hearts

Written by Cherie Donze on Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Lent

Years ago, in another time and place, I found myself suddenly cast into a drama that rattled my being.  I was blindsided and naïve.  People and circumstances were not what I had believed them to be.  Before personal cell phones, text messages and emails, it was not possible for me to use the shared landline phone to call home to talk to my parents privately for wisdom, and they lived hundreds of miles away.  I did what for me was surely shocking to them:  I called my dad just as he arrived at work, told him I was flying home that day for a couple days, and asked him to pick me up at the airport.  I offered no explanation and he asked for none.

Dad picked me up at the airport in the middle of his work day, drove me the 25 miles home, allowing me my silence.  Mom was shocked to see us both, as he hadn’t called to warn her.  She hugged me but asked no questions.  Exhausted from a draining and sleepless 24 hours I went straight to my old room to bed.  Dad woke me for dinner, and I slid into my usual seat.  Both brothers, living at home at the time, were wide eyed.  They hadn’t been filled in about my unexpected appearance.  Some part of me thought the whole thing rather like a bad movie.

I had gone home to where I felt safe, where people were who I could trust, where I knew I was loved, where I could find my center.   As I found my voice they listened and loved.  I marveled then, and have ever since, about the incredible grace that my family gifted me in those hours.  Mom and Dad reminded me that God is always with me.  While it would take some time, some tough choices, some more grace, returning home to that space with open doors and open hearts, I could feel peace returning.

I feel grace and peace when I am in God’s home, when I am welcomed with a smile by Eucharistic ministers I see Jesus, when I sit in silence in His presence or am singing with His family.  It is a safe and loving space, a space of peace and of grace.  It is comfortable, there are smiles and hugs, and it is my spiritual home.  I feel centered.  God’s door is always open for each of us, and His heart is big enough to love us, no strings attached.  There is a place at the table for Sunday dinner for everyone in God’s home.

Questions for Reflection / Suggestion for Prayer:
Where do you feel at home?  Where do you feel peace?
Do you trust that God your father and Jesus your brother will welcome you with no questions asked?
Be aware of those times you feel at home, at peace, and open your heart to the loving presence of God.  Be encouraged that His home is your home.

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Cherie Donze
Cherie joined St. Mary as a grad student in 1981 and has been happily at home here ever since.  Her three children were all baptized and confirmed here.  Over the years she has served on the Handicap Accessibility Committee, as Bread Baking Coordinator, on the Family Ministry Committee, co-founded First Sunday, Sacramental Prep, and Confirmation Programs, and participated in the same Small Church Community (originally started through the Christian Family Movement, or CFM), meeting monthly, since January 2000.  One of her favorite things is St. Mary’s Feast Day of Service.  She’s tickled that many of the CFM kids (most now young adults themselves) refer to the adults as their CFM aunts and uncles.
Email: cdonzearchitect@gmail.com

Lead Us to Your Table

Written by Amanda Peters on Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Lent

Israel means “to struggle with God.” I’ve always taken comfort in that.

Fittingly, this Lent finds me in a spiritual desert. On the outside I appear to be a “good” Catholic. I go to mass, I am a catechist, a member of an SCC and ASB, a lector, and a frequenter of igNite.  I participate. I pray. But I would be lying if I said that I don’t struggle with God. I doubt. A lot. Doubting Catholicism, or at its worst, doubting God himself is terrifying. I can begin to imagine how the Israelites felt in the desert.

Two pieces have helped me come to terms with my dilemma:

“Lo, I am with you always means when you look for God, / 
God is in the look of your eyes, / 
in the thought of looking, / nearer to you than your self, /
or things that have happened to you…”- Rumi

“…But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it…” -Thomas Merton

There is no shame in struggling with your faith. Even the ancient Israelites continually wrestled with God. You’re not alone. Take heart that this Lent you are called to return home. A home that is always available to you. Our Lord has set a place for you at his table. He will never give up on you. Therefore, I cannot fear. I have a seat perpetually saved, and a Lord who will forever desire to dine with me.

Lord I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.

Questions for Reflection:
Where are the spiritually dry areas in your life?
How is God making himself manifest even in your doubts and fears?

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Amanda Peters
Amanda is a senior at U of M studying History and History of Art. She can be found Irish dancing, reading, perusing the UMMA, or nerding out about history. Next year she hopes to either participate in Jesuit Volunteer Corps Northwest or teach English in France.
Email: peterama@umich.edu