Friday, December 18, 2020

Christmas, Veritas, and Competition

Growing up, one of my favorite days of the year was the day after Thanksgiving.  For many, the day after Thanksgiving is exciting because they love to shop ‘till they drop on Black Friday.  Now, despite not being a big shopper, I did always look forward to getting out of the house to see what was in the stores and always hoped we would see some family members while out and about.  The main reason I always looked forward to the day after Thanksgiving, however, was because my mom, aunt, cousin (and sometimes others) would often go to a small, outdoor zoo that always debuts their Christmas lights display the day after Thanksgiving.  And, what can be more fun than hot chocolate and colorful lights (in sync with music of course) breaking through the early darkness that comes with winter nights in Wisconsin?  



A picture from the zoo lights display I took in 2012.

This year, as I am in conversation with others about what it means to be a Dominican, I can’t help but notice the similarity between Christmas lights and the Dominican Cross.  The Dominican Cross is meant to symbolize the light of truth penetrating the darkness of this world.  For me, Christmas lights easily tie into this because the Christmas lights shining in the darkness remind me how God came to us as a baby to be the perfect light in the darkness of this world.


One of my Sisters gave this Dominican cross necklace to me
on the Feast of All Dominican Saints when I was a candidate.


Now, what does this have to do with competition?  You see, among the many things Dominicans are known for, two of them are Veritas (Truth) and Disputatio (a medieval practice where, when in debate with others, one focuses more on seeking the truth the other speaks than on proving the other person wrong).  What I appreciate about Disputatio is that it encourages those debating each other to set their ego aside for the sake of learning from those they are in conversation with.  For me, this practice is an excellent reminder that I am not the source of truth (Veritas); God, who is in all things, is. In a world that encourages an unhealthy level of competition (do kids really need to be competing for starting positions at such an early age in sports?) what a great opportunity Dominicans have, through Disputatio, to show the world it is always better to set aside one’s pride for the sake of truly listening, and being present, to those before us.  



A friendly game of Crokinole is the most
common way our competitive side comes out.



Sunday, December 13, 2020

What an inspiring orange!


my juicy orange
My juicy orange
As I sat enjoying my juicy orange the other day I was reminded the familiar taste many years ago, the sweet taste of homegrown oranges. When I was growing up in the countryside of the Rift Valley in Kenya, we grew oranges, pineapples, and avocados on our farm. As a child, it was easy for me to pick and peel oranges without any help, and that is how I ended up eating loads of them and became familiar with their sweet taste.  

The awakening of that sweet orange taste in my mouth got me reflecting on what taste really means. I saw taste can also be a way in which the presence of the divine becomes a reality through my experiences. The occasions in which I have tasted this love of God through my encounter with others flooded my mind. It became so real that the experience of belonging while I was growing up was a taste of the Spirit of God. As I continue to connect, honor, and listen to others, currently more through zoom, it gives me the most intimate experience of tasting the ever-present Divine in my life.

We read in Psalms 119:103 “How sweet to my tongue is your promise, sweeter than honey to my mouth!”  I see God inviting me not to just know about Him in my mind, but also to taste God's goodness and faithfulness in my heart through the everyday events and encounters.

A self-made card sent to me
by Sr. Marion Puszcz after 
the inspiration of the Holy
Trinity during her prayers.
 
Life at CDN has its different flavors as well. I chose to focus on the flavor experienced through the care, and generosity of my Maryknoll and Dominican Sisters who take their time to send emails and cards reassuring of their prayerful support to the entire CDN community. I appreciate all the Christmas gifts that have been sent to us by various communities and individuals. It is through them that I continue to taste the flavor of God’s love and goodness which awakens gratitude within me.

This advent season invites me to reflect on how my life spices up the quality of lives of those I encounter.  Aware that I offer mixed flavors, I allow God to come and straighten the paths in my life and in my heart as I prepare for his coming.

 I am grateful for having this sense of taste and the ability to use it every day of my life. Sometimes I take the ability to taste, for granted. I can only imagine the experience of losing one of the senses especially through an illness like Covid 19. This moves me to prayers for those experiencing the loss of smell and taste through this pandemic.

Friday, December 4, 2020

Watching for Everyday Miracles

Advent has begun, and we are on the watch. In her preaching for the First Sunday of Advent, Cathy asked, “What are you hoping to see this Advent as you keep watch?” For me, the novitiate year sometimes feels like an extended Advent season, as I wait for signs that this time of formation is bearing fruit in personal growth and deeper communion with God, myself, and others. Remembering that even small gestures can offer confirmation, I attend to the day’s events, routine yet full of potential significance. I hope for greater freedom to love the world as God does. Watching for small signs of transformation requires patience, certainly, as well as hope.

Advent wreath before the altar in our House Chapel

 

Keeping watch reminds me of my morning runs along the Lakefront Trail. At mile 3, the path wraps around Promontory Point, a park that juts out from the shoreline. Every morning, people arrive there before dawn and sit along the rocky perimeter. Surrounded on three sides by water, they look out over Lake Michigan facing east. Some set up cameras. Quietly, they wait for sunrise. As the golden-red solar disk peeps over the horizon, I visualize the rounded surface of our Earth spinning toward its star. How is it that this daily event can be at once so ordinary and yet unfailingly marvelous? Every day the sun rises, and every day people wake to see its splendor. This consistency touched my heart in a special way the morning after Election Day in the U.S. As the nation waited restlessly for final ballot counts, the sun climbed up into the sky, an eye-dazzling miracle. All of us gathered there at the lake savored the moment together, thirsting for beauty and yearning for “a future full of hope” for our deeply divided society. The sun’s rising that day seemed to me a miraculous sign of God’s steadfast love and faithfulness.

 

I cherish these awesome yet ordinary sacraments of God’s presence. In the midst of our broken world, it can be challenging to see God’s hand at work, or even know where to look. Currently I volunteer at Kolbe House Jail Ministry, the Archdiocese of Chicago’s ministry to persons affected by incarceration. Ordinarily, Kolbe House focuses on caring for persons incarcerated in Cook County Jail; however, when COVID restrictions curtailed entry to the jail, the Kolbe House staff shifted their attention to accompanying people on early release. These clients must re-enter a society caught in the grips of pandemic. Upon their release from jail, they have the clothes they are wearing, ten dollars and a bus pass. They are assigned to a transitional housing unit that does not provide meals or bed linens. They have sixty days to obtain a government ID, find a job, and secure permanent housing. On top of these astounding obstacles, many of our clients need support for mental health or substance abuse. Enter Kolbe House. We meet clients’ immediate material need for clothing, food, and transportation and help connect them with resources for healthcare and housing. Above all, Kolbe House is committed to a ministry of presence, accompanying clients as they navigate this extremely challenging transition.

 

The stark need of clients suffering from compound trauma can be overwhelming. In a staff meeting some time ago, one of the directors described a set of particularly complicated situations concerning two clients: one in an untenable living situation, on the verge of homelessness and tempted to end it all; another with no official record or identifying documents, terrified of being returned to prison after having suffered violence inside. In both cases, the odds sounded nigh insurmountable. The staff hardly knew where to begin. Nevertheless, the director asserted that our team would give all we had to bring these individuals through their crises. “We care about every one of our clients, but these two have come to us completely broken human beings. We have to do everything we can to put them back together.” I listened in awe. Here was a true disciple of Jesus, proclaiming to two persons “with their backs against the wall” that they are beloved children of God. The director had total confidence that, even in these direst of circumstances, God would give these clients the strength to choose life. I felt profoundly aware that this is how God acts: making a preferential option for the most vulnerable sisters and brothers among us. As the Kolbe House staff regularly reminds me, we are called to do the same. The grace God provides to accomplish it is nothing short of miraculous.

 

I keep watch this Advent for God’s action here and now in our world. I look to the words and deeds of others around me who “make God’s love visible” – an everyday miracle.


Advent Waiting: What are you hoping to see this Advent?