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Capítulo 7: Alegría

Capítulo 7: Alegría

“Nuestro “yo” asustado sólo quiere agradarles a los reunidos, que estén de acuerdo con nosotros, o que se sientan intimidados por nosotros. Supongo que Jesús entra a un cuarto y ama lo que encuentra allí. De hecho, se regocija en ello. Tal vez haga que se vaya derechito a donde los marginados y decida ir allá donde el amor no ha llegado. Sus caminos no son los nuestros, pero realmente deberían serlo” (166).

Este pasaje me llamó la atención porque yo he entrado a cuartos donde el miedo llega a mi corazón y quiero agradarles a todos. Este pasaje me hace pensar que en vez de buscar que le caiga bien a la gente, vaya hacia las personas en el cuarto y escuche sus historias, su pensamientos, y lo que hacen para tener alegría en sus vidas. Y si el amor no les ha llegado, buscar maneras de ver a Dios, de reconocerlo en los momentos más pequeños y puros de nuestro días, como el poder abrazar a un amigo, contar un chiste, escuchar música, o tener el don del sarcasmo. Hay que regocijarse en la presencia que nos damos uno al otro.

Chapter 7: Gladdness

“Our frightened selves want only for the gathered to like us, to agree with us, or to be intimidated by us. I suppose Jesus walks into a room and loves what he finds there. Delights in it, in fact. Maybe, He makes a beeline to the outcasts and chooses, in them, to go where love has not yet arrived. His ways aren’t our ways, but they sure could be” (155).

This passage caught my attention because I’ve been in rooms where fear touched my heart and I want to be liked by all. This passage makes me think that instead of searching for people to like me, I should go to rooms and go towards the people there to help when needed, listen intentionally to their stories, their thoughts, and what they do to have joy in their lives. And if love hasn’t arrived within these room, look for ways to see God, acknowledge Him in the smallest and purest of moments, like being able to hug a friend, tell a joke, listen to music, or have the gift of sarcasm. We have to rejoice in the presence that we give one another.

Vicenta Vargas estudia biopsicología en la Universidad de Michigan. Le encanta viajar y ser parte del ministerio Hispano/Latino en la parroquia estudiantil de Santa María.

Vicenta Vargas is a senior studying biopsychology, cognition, & neuroscience (BCN) at the University of Michigan. She loves traveling and is part of the Hispanic/Latino ministry at St. Mary Student Parish.

Chapter 6: Jurisdiction

“We have a chance sometimes, to create a new jurisdiction, a place of astonishing mutuality, whenever we close both eyes of judgment and open the other eye to pay attention” (139).

In this chapter, Boyle talks about jurisdictions and provides examples to show that all too often, we put up walls in our minds to sort the people we are obligated to tolerate and help and those who should be left to fend for themselves because they do not fall in the boundaries of who we decided deserve our love and acceptance. We all strive to create a world with no boundaries; a world where Gods love can flow from person to person. But far too often, things such as judgment, hate, and grudges hold us back. The fascinating thing is that these walls that we build seem as if they are made out of brick. That as much as we want to tear them down, we alone do not have the strength and power to break down all the jurisdictions in which we reside. Yet, something as small as a few moments of laughter can shatter them instantly. When we begin to treat every person we meet as a “someone”, and respect each and every one of them as a child of God, there is no need for jurisdictions, because each one is our brother and sister. When we fill this world with laughter, love, and mutuality, there will no longer be any boundaries to prevent us from living in the expansive singular jurisdiction God created for us.

“Algunas veces, tenemos la oportunidad de crear una nueva jurisdicción, una comunidad sorprendente, cuando cerramos los dos ojos del juicio y abrimos el otro para prestar atención” (147).

En este capítulo, Boyle discute las jurisdicciones y provee ejemplos para mostrar que, con demasiada frecuencia, creamos paredes en nuestras mentes para separar a las personas que necesitamos tolerar y ayudar de las personas que deben dejarse para defenderse porque no existen dentro de los limites de las que merecen el amor y la aceptación. Todos nosotros esforzamos por crear un mundo sin límites; un mundo donde el amor de Dios puede circular de una persona a otra. Sin embargo, con demasiada frecuencia, tantas cosas como, el juicio, el odio, y el resentimiento nos impiden que nosotros destruir esos límites. Lo que es más fascinante es que estas paredes parecen como si fueran hecho de los ladrillos. Tanto como queremos destruirlas, nosotros solos no tenemos ni la fuerza ni el poder para destruir las jurisdicciones donde vivimos. Todavía, algo tan simple como un momento de risa puede destruirlos instantáneamente. Cuando comenzamos a tratar a cada persona que conocemos como “alguien”, y a respetar a todos y cada uno de ellos como un hijo de Dios, no son necesarias las jurisdicciones, porque cada persona es nuestro hermano y hermana. Cuando llenamos este mundo de risas, amor y mutualidad, no habrá límites para impedirnos vivir en la vasta y singular jurisdicción que Dios creó para nosotros.

Jenna Ringquist is a sophomore majoring in Nursing and minoring in Environment, with goals to become a DNP (Nurse Practitioner). She enjoys baking, sunsets, dogs, family, friends, and serving God.

Jenna Ringquist está en su segundo ano y estudia la enfermería y el medioambiente. Quiere ser una enfermera calificada. Le gusta hornear, los atardeceres, los perros, pasar tiempo con familia y los amigos, y servir a Dios.

Chapter 5: Slow Work

“And the light … is better …than the darkness.

 As if he did not previously know this to be the case. He’s weeping, unable to continue. Then he says, “I guess … my brother … just never found the light switch.”

Possessing flashlights and occasionally knowing where to aim them has to be enough for us. Fortunately, none of us can save anybody. But we all find ourselves in this dark, windowless room, fumbling for grace and flashlights. You aim the light this time, and I’ll do it the next.

The slow work of God.

And you hope, and you wait, for the light – this astonishing light.” (128)

“Fortunately, none of us can save anybody.” Fortunately.

It’s an interesting word for me to find so fascinating. Among a chapter of heartbreak embedded in a story of healing, it is only natural to feel as though we must “be the light” for the world in whatever way we can muster. Maybe we could go to a shelter more often, or maybe we could learn the stories of those on the fringes. Whatever we are currently doing with our lives, we could “maybe do more”. The guise of the “middle-class work ethic” is an inability to allow stillness, the inability to be simply be present, but sorrows live in the depths of stillness. Our sorrows shelter within the caves of oneself, often left unexplored and unopened to avoid a recognition of the suffering. It is in the stillness that these sorrows are brought forth and it’s in the calm unpacking of its endless baggage where healing is made true. And as the end of chapter 5 concludes, we are reminded that this “saving” is not a result of our worldly efforts. The healing is a process that not only takes time, but also one’s own intent. We can help those in suffering take a step here, or find a light switch there, but only they can turn on their own light, only they can finally understand God’s love in their lives. Sorrow is prevalent in our world and to be frank, that’s an impossible order for us to personally undertake. But God is here, God is with those that suffer and God allows each of us to help each other find our own lights. “You aim the light this time, and I’ll do it the next.”

—Y la luz… es mejor… que la oscuridad. Está sollozando, incapaz de continuar.

Luego dice:

—Creo que… mi hermano… simplemente nunca encontró el interruptor de la luz.

Pero es suficiente con tener linternas y saber hacia dónde dirigirlas de vez en cuando. Afortunadamente, ninguno de nosotros puede salvar a nadie, pero todos nos encontramos en este salón oscuro y sin ventanas, buscando la gracia y las linternas. Tú la enciendes esta vez, y yo lo haré en la próxima ocasión.

Es el trabajo lento de Dios.

Y tú esperas la luz: Esta luz sorprendente. (137)

“Afortunadamente, ninguno de nosotros puede salvar a nadie.” Afortunadamente.

Es interesante encontrar esta palabra tan fascinante. Entre un capitulo de angustia que está grabado en una historia de la curación, es natural sentir como si nosotros debemos “ser la luz” para el resto del mundo en cualquier forma posible. Quizás podríamos ir a un refugio local con mas frecuencia, o tal vez podríamos aprender las historias de las personas que viven en los márgenes de la sociedad. Con lo que hacemos en nuestras vidas, “tal vez, podríamos hacer más.” La apariencia de la ética de trabajo de la clase media es una incapacidad de permitir quietud, la incapacidad de estar en el presente, pero la pena vive en las profundidades de la quietud. Nuestra pena se refugia dentro de las cuevas de sí mismo, a menudo inexploradas y sin abrirlas para evitar el reconocimiento del sufrimiento. Sin embargo, surge la pena en la quietud, y en el desempaque de su equipaje infinito, la curación se vuelve real. Y cómo concluye el capítulo 5, se nos recuerda que esta “salvación” no es un resultado de nuestros esfuerzos mundanos. La curación es un proceso que no solo toma tiempo, pero también requiere la intención de una persona. Solo podemos ayudarles a las que sufren para que den un paso adelante o encuentren un interruptor de luz, pero no podemos encender la luz. Sólo ellos pueden hacerlo, sólo ellos pueden, por fin, entienden el amor de Dios en sus vidas. El dolor es poderoso en nuestro mundo y, francamente, es imposible emprender personalmente este pedido. Pero Dios está aquí, Dios está con las que sufren, y Dios nos permite a cada uno de nosotros ayudar a los otros a encontrar sus propias luces. “Tú enciendes la luz esta vez, y yo lo haré en la próxima ocasión.”

Morgan Hale is a Junior at U of M studying Philosophy, Physics and Mathematics. He is currently a member of the faith doing justice team at St. Mary, appreciating and understanding the power of storytelling as a form of healing. He was also a site leader for the L.A. ASB trip this school year, learning of the community of which this book is written. 

Morgan Hale está en su tercer año en la universidad de Michigan y estudia filosofía, física, y matemáticas. Él es un miembro del grupo de St. Mary se llama La Fe Haciendo La Justicia, y para agradecer y entender más profundamente el poder de usar una narrativa como una forma de curación. Además, fue un líder del grupo de estudiantes de St. Mary a Los Ángeles para ASB (Spring Break Alternativa) que ocurrió el principio de marzo 2019. Durante su tiempo en Los Ángeles, Morgan y su grupo vivieron con y aprendieron de la comunidad de que escribe Padre Gregorio Boyle en este libro.

Chapter 4: Water, Oil, Flame

“Jesus says, “You are the light of the world.”…He does not say, “One day, if you are more perfect and try really hard, you’ll be light.” He doesn’t say “If you play by the rules, cross your T’s and dot your I’s, then maybe you’ll become light.” No. He says, straight out, “You are light.” It is the truth of who you are, waiting only for you to discover it.” p.108

In chapter 4 of Tattoos on the Heart, Fr. Boyle recounts story after story of individuals who are “reteaching loveliness” to themselves. These are people who have suffered abuse and neglect from parents, and who often have a hole the shape of their dad in their soul. And somehow through the community that is built at Homeboy Industries, each of these men and women find out the truth that Jesus so clearly states in the above quote. “You are the light of the world.”

As a perfectionist, I have struggled continuously with believing this truth. I spent much of my youth striving to be light not realizing that the light was already inside of me. And unfortunately without the truth of my own light, I wasn’t able to see and nurture that light in other people. I was critical and judgmental which obviously is not Christ-like at all. It was through my involvement in a faith sharing small church community that I came to “reteach” myself about my own “loveliness”, to believe the truth of my light. Once I believed the truth of my own light, I could lead a more authentic life of sharing that light with others. And most importantly see that light in others.

I think this is one of the great lessons in Fr. Greg’s book. It is through lack of community – dysfunctional families, gangs – that we forget about our loveliness and light. It is through a nurturing community that we begin to reteach our loveliness and believe in our own light. That is why places like the warming center that St. Mary hosts for the month of January, have such an enormous impact. The warming center creates a community where we can believe our own light, see the light in others and hopefully help people who have been marginalized learn the truth of their own light. Reteach loveliness.

Do you believe that “You are the light of the world”?

Can you believe that about gang bangers, panhandlers, even people who have committed violent crimes?

Let us pray that through ongoing prayer and God’s grace in community, we may come to see ourselves and every human being as the “light of the world”.

Lisa Hirsch is a member of the Faith Doing Justice Ministry leadership team. She and her husband, Tom McDonough, have 3 children and are longtime resident parishioners of St. Mary.

Chapter 3: Compassion

“Just assume the answer to every question is compassion” (62).

I, constantly, find myself asking, “How can I be Christ to others?” or “How can I put my faith into action?”  As you walk along in your journey of faith, you may find yourself asking similar questions.  As Fr. Greg Boyle puts it, the answer to all of these questions is compassion!

At first, this passage reminded me of when Jesus would have meals with the outcasts: the tax collectors, the lepers, and the saints no one saw coming.  He succeeded by confronting the boundaries between the sheep and shepherd while sharing the gift of compassion.

After some reflection and prayer, I was able to put myself in Jesus’ shoes and truly visualize the boundaries that exist and divide us. Jesus’ goal was not to share the same message to the same groups of people as those who surrounded him. He was presenting improved ideas about the teachings and traditions that had existed for generations.

For Lent, we have the opportunity to reach out to our brothers and sisters in Christ, as well as the sheep without a shepherd within our own communities.  I challenge you to allow yourself to be an example of compassion to the marginalized and oppressed within your communities.

Different than sympathy or empathy, there is no “victim” and no “healer”. Together, if we are truly living compassionately, we bear each other’s crosses and no one walks alone. We are Victors in Christ!

Hannah is a 3rd-year undergraduate student at University of Michigan studying History and Museum Studies.  New to SMSP this year, she is involved in the Faith Doing Justice team and as an office assistant.

Chapter 2: Dis-Grace

What strikes me the most about this chapter is reflecting on how often we likely miss out on significant human connection. Father Gregory Boyle writes about the monotony of his schedule.

“Now I have seven minutes until my baptism.”

“The family will arrive for the baptism in five minutes.”

It is important to consider that even someone as socially aware as Boyle can fall into the trap of routine, so much so that he nearly misses such an important opportunity as connecting with a woman who so obviously needed to witness human compassion.

I often consider the danger of routine. I have been fortunate enough to have participated in three Alternative Spring Break trips in the past and am currently at the start of my fourth. Going into these trips it always encourages me to consider how so many college students set aside the time for service. But, I often wonder how holistically effective this “setting-aside” can be, if it isn’t supplemented with daily action. I certainly have found service opportunities to offer tremendous growth for the person participating and for the communities that the individual works with. But, no matter how many service opportunities we take advantage of, how can we fully support others if we do not make the time to help those in our daily routine?

This chapter is titled “dis-grace.” We all certainly experience disgrace for whatever reason, it can be anything from drug addiction (as this chapter illuminates) or something as minor as a poor exam grade. Or, for Father Boyle, a dis-grace can be nearly missing an incredibly important conversation. These “dis-graces” are exactly that: division from the power of God’s grace. In striving to fully experience and be witness to God’s grace, I think that it is important to consider Boyle’s story on when he started teaching. He was told that with teaching, “It’s more important that they know you than that they know what ya know.” This chapter is a call to action that we may allow others to know us. It is through knowing each other and making others feel known that we can grow past our mutual “dis-graces” into a state of greater grace. Let us pray for the intervention of the Holy Spirit that we may be guided by an abundance of grace.

Sarah LaSata is a senior at the University of Michigan studying English. Her favorite places in Ann Arbor are the Kerrytown area and the UMMA.     

Chapter 1: Perception

“God’s unwieldy love, which cannot be contained by our words, wants to accept all that we are and sees our humanity as the privileged place to encounter this magnanimous love. No part of our hardwiring or our messy selves is to be disparaged. Where we stand, in all our mistakes and imperfection, is holy ground. It is where God has chosen to be intimate with us not in any way but this” (Tattoos on the Heart, 35)

One of the turning points in my faith was when I discovered that I didn’t have to prove myself to earn God’s love. Up until my sophomore year at college, I had a narrow view of who God was. When I would mess up, make mistakes, or go against my faith, I thought God was up there shaking His head at me, saying “Really Ally? I’m disappointed.” With every wrong move, I thought God took a step away from me. Only when I did well (i.e. was up to date on my Catholic obligations, served others, etc.) was when I felt worthy enough for God to take a step towards me.

Two instances during my sophomore year changed this “tiny” perception of God that I held. (1) I had a spiritual mentor in college and at the end of one of our conversations he questioned “Ally, do you want to believe in a God who punishes and judges? Do you want a faith where you have to constantly be proving yourself to God? Or, do you want to believe in a God who loves you unconditionally and only ever wants to step closer and closer to you?” (2) I read Henri Nouwen’s “Return of the Prodigal Son” which depicted God as a compassionate and forgiving father.

These two experiences opened me up to a completely new way of looking at God. Like the father in the parable of the prodigal son, I finally understood that God doesn’t walk away; He holds His arms wide open, always waiting for me to come home. There is nothing I have to do to earn God’s love. It’s there. Always. Fr. Boyle puts it well in the passage above: “where we stand, in all our mistakes and imperfection, is holy ground.” Our relationship with God, no matter where that relationship may be, is sacred.

In chapter 1, Fr. Boyle teaches us that our perception of God is going to continue to grow as we encounter new experiences, places, and people. Although we will never truly understand the vastness of God’s love for us, the more we open ourselves up to new encounters, the more we will learn. Let us “marinate” on this knowledge and be open to a shifting and evolving faith.

Ally Liedtke is a Campus Ministry Associate at St. Mary Student Parish. She revived a bachelor’s degree in  theology from University of Portland

Welcome to the Big Read 2019!

Hello, and thank you for choosing to participate in the third annual Big Read at St. Mary Student Parish. Three years ago, St. Mary Student Parish implemented the Big Read in order to provide the parish with an opportunity to build community while reflecting on what it means to live out a faith that does justice.

On this blog, you’ll be hearing from students and resident parishioners alike as they reflect on Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion by Fr. Greg Boyle, S.J. The blog will be updated twice a week, so check back frequently!

It will be a wonderful way to engage with the profound stories and challenging ideas Fr. Boyle will present to us in the next 5 weeks.

With the book sharing stories from somewhere as far away as Los Angeles, it can be tempting to think that the lessons that lie under them don’t apply to us here in Ann Arbor. That simply is false; the concepts of radical kinship and being in solidarity with the vulnerable are at the crux of our Catholic faith and our pursuit to be women and men for others. Over the course of the Big Read, let’s challenge ourselves to dig deeply into the lessons Fr. Boyle shares with us, but, most importantly, let’s ask ourselves what radical kinship looks like at St. Mary and how we can be a better part of it.

If you are unable to join us for the kickoff event on February 26, take a look at Fr. Greg’s talk:

Here are some reflection questions about the talk:

1. How can our parish help students integrate the intellectual, social, and spiritual dimensions of their lives, “as men and women for others… who cannot even conceive of love of God which does not include love for the least of their neighbors”?
2. Greg writes, “Kinship [is] not serving the other, but being one with the other. Jesus was not a ‘man for others’; he was one with them. How are the two different and how should this impact our mission as Christians?
3. How does your understanding of God color the way that you view disparities in privilege and opportunity? What are some false ideas about God that you have encountered in yourself, others, or the wider culture?

If you still need a book (in English or in Spanish) please stop by the parish office anytime!

Thanks for coming along with us!

Renae is a senior at the University of Michigan and the intern for faith doing justice at St. Mary Student Parish.