The Cross Plant

As my parents were aging, I remember my mom encouraging me when I would go home to visit to put my name on anything I wanted that was in the house. I thought it was kind of morbid and really didn’t see the point which is why my siblings ended up with the good stuff and I ended up with the luau decorations. (See my blog) I better understand my mom’s request now. I will probably do the same with our kids. It is interesting to me, just what things the kids would even want. There is one possession of mine that I am really interested in knowing where or with whom it is going to end up. My Dead-Jesus-on-the-Cross plant. (See picture above.) I’m sure there will be a real bidding war between my children for it. I can just see it now. Fifteen years ago, I found this odd but beautiful rotting piece of nature while on a walk. It was a sunny fall day when I was struck by the Divine in an otherwise very ordinary day when I looked down and there was this dried-up plant on the side of the road. I immediately saw an image in this old plant that I was very familiar with, the image of Christ on the cross. If you look closely at the pictures in the frames you will see what looks like a crown of thorns around what I saw as a head. The side branches almost look like arms and the large clumps of dried leaves on either side of the main branch reminded me of the weight of our sins, ugly and heavy, that Jesus took with him on the cross. I carried this somewhat odd artifact with me often and looked forward to any opportunity I had to share it with others.  I was transporting it in a DSW shoe store bag when one of my friends in a Bible study I was attending begged me to let her husband make me a more solid, permanent home for my find. Thus, as you see, my Jesus Plant is now safe and sound, encased and on display at Firstfruits. During Lent we are prompted to ponder the mystery of the cross. Ponder the connection between the suffering of Jesus on the cross and our own suffering with the crosses we bear. And we all bear crosses. We can’t escape them. In his...

You Don’t Know Him

Friday Fish Fry anyone? My Fridays are open now that the high school basketball season is over. My son is the head coach of the boys’ varsity basketball team at Pius High School and my husband is on his staff.  November to March you’ll find me in a gym on Friday nights decked out in Pius Popes gear, nervously munching on a Nutter Butter from the concession stand while I try not to care about the outcome of the game. These games are truly a family affair. My sister and my friend, Mary, sell Spiritwear in the lobby. My brother-in-law wouldn’t miss a game. And with the promise of concession stand treats, pom- pom routines to imitate, and free rein to run up and down the bleachers for an hour, the grandkids don’t miss a game either. It’s a lot of fun, except when it isn’t. My daughter-in-law (the coach’s wife) and I (the coach’s mother) seem to have developed a keen sense of hearing at these games, almost like we sprout antennae that specifically pick up words of criticism hurled at the head coach. My daughter-in-law especially. All of a sudden, she will turn to me and say “Did you hear that?” And I begin the search for the target of my mama bear glare. We have learned it’s best to sit away from the crowd and give our antennae a rest. It’s just so disheartening to hear some of the comments when you know first-hand how hard it is to be a good coach and the sacrifices a coach’s wife and family go through during the season. All the blood, sweat and tears a passionate coach pours into his craft trying to create a culture of determination, hard work, and mutual respect, not to mention winning a few games along the way. When there is criticism, I want to say “But you don’t know him.” During this time of Lent, I try to take some time to think about Jesus’s mother, Mary, and how the events we reflect on during these weeks affected her. She knew, from the time of his conception, who Jesus really was and what he was destined for.  She longs for all to know him. In Joseph Langford’s book, I Thirst, he says, of Mary; “For the nine months during which she carried the eternal Word within her, she came to know as no other human creature the depth of God’s...

Plumbing the Depths

BLOG WARNING: If the thought of needles and blood make you queasy skip to paragraph two. Before I became a full time Jesus lover, I was a part time Medical Technologist. I worked in the laboratory of a few different hospitals in my career doing diagnostic testing. One of my job responsibilities was drawing blood. It never ceased to amaze me how the human body worked; in particular how this life-giving fluid pulses through our bodies and maintains all our organs and cells even when it feels like nothing is happening. Such a powerful force at work and we are oblivious to it most of the time until I come along and plumb the depths of your arm with a needle. (I warned you.) In his book I Thirst, Joseph Langford M.C., says “The Holy Spirit is constantly, day and night, praying within us, waiting for us to open to the mystery of his prayer and to enter in to it.” It is our job to join that flow of prayer and let it become our prayer. That is how we deepen our prayer life to a place that goes beyond the superficial, stale prayer we easily become accustomed to and that often keeps us from finding God’s presence. This prayer of the Holy Spirit within us can provide us with life-giving grace and helps us maintain the life-giving connection to God that we need. There is such a powerful force at work and available to us even when we feel like nothing is happening. Just as we can’t feel the blood coursing through our veins, but we know it’s there, we can’t feel the prayer coursing through our beings but we know it is there. We just have to go deeper. How often in our prayer life do we stay at the surface? How often are we distracted in prayer? How often is our prayer more about quantity then quality, especially during Lent? In prayer, quality is more important than quantity. Superficial prayer that never makes the effort to go deeper cannot satisfy us and cannot satiate the Lord. Instead, we need to dive beneath the surface of our souls to find God’s presence in what the Eastern Church Fathers have sometimes called “prayer of the heart.” At the superficial level we are easily assailed by thoughts and distractions. The living waters are flowing at a deeper level below all the surface disturbances. We...

The Promise of a Sunrise

I took this picture outside our front door the other day. A beautiful sunrise in the east peeking through the starkness of the bare trees and hardness of the snow-covered ground. It reminds me of what this season of Lent is all about. A temporary darkness with the promise of coming light. Lent is a somber season when we are encouraged to do a lot of soul searching. We are called to take a hard look at where we have fallen short in our efforts to love. We are called to take a good look at where we have fallen away from the love of God. Where we have turned our backs on the grace and the love that is waiting for us. Where we have been duped by the world’s false promises instead of being delighted and delivered by God’s immutable promises. He calls us back. Again. It's a reflective season when we take in, with gratitude, the abundance of what we have been blessed with and offer what we can to those who have less. We are called to share our firstfruits. The best of what we have is to be shared generously. It’s a colorful time for our prayer lives. We are called to deeper and more regular prayer. It’s an opportunity to try some new prayer practices. Get creative. Prayer is conversation, prayer is quiet, prayer is a walk, prayer is a cure for insomnia. Prayer is with beads, prayer is with trees, prayer is in the car, prayer is in the shower. Don’t confine your prayer, let it free. The other thing that struck me about this picture is the promise of newness, the promise of potential, the promise of hope that the rising sun brings to a dark world each day. God promises those same things to us come Easter morning after our days in the darkness of Lent. This time of Lent shouldn’t be rushed. Stay in it. Learn, grow, pray, share, and trust. Know that the Son will rise with all His promises and it will be beautiful. Joan...

Heartily Sorry

I’ve decided to give up blogging for Lent. Just kidding. I could never go that long without sharing the spiritual musings that take up residence in my mind constantly.  I do feel bad though, it seems the people closest to me have become paranoid of my blogs. They have a real fear of becoming the subject of one. Just last week, after a lengthy conversation with my daughter she said, “Now don’t put that in your next blog.”  My Lenten deprivations have slowly morphed from being all about giving up something food related to giving up something I do that hurts me and/or those around me. This year I am trying to give up that 4:00 bowl of anything salty I can get my hands on but I have also taken a good look at where I don’t take sin seriously in my life. I ask myself, what should I give up that is harming me and taking me farther away from the abundant life God wants for me? A life filled with his love and grace. In his book, I Thirst, Joseph Langford M.C. talks about the spiritual problem of lukewarmness or tepidity of soul. He defines it as “the state in which we make no authentic effort to escape the patterns of venial sin that we have developed.” He goes on to list the telltale signs of lukewarmness: lax conscience, praying seldom and without much attention, quick to defend ourselves and slow to accuse ourselves, no eagerness for receiving the sacraments, intemperance in food and drink, content to gossip and criticize others, hold on to resentments and injuries without seriously trying to forgive. These examples gave me plenty of options for my Lenten resolve to give up what is harming me or others. It’s humbling to admit my lukewarmness. That is what we are called to do during Lent. To take a look at our sinfulness. Keeping in mind, the wideness of God’s mercy and the love that is waiting to comfort and heal as we reveal our sadness at our failures and ask for forgiveness. My granddaughter, Harper, made her First Reconciliation last week. She called me shortly after, as she was enjoying her post-confession frosty from Wendy’s, and told me she really did feel “lighter“ after and then proceeded to recite the Act of Contrition without skipping a word. I couldn’t help but smile and I pictured Jesus smiling too, at...

A Big Feeling

Feelings are messy things. They complicate our lives. They enhance our lives. They run our lives. Take an inventory of the feelings you experienced yesterday. Here is my inventory: calm, doubt, happiness, frustration, disappointment, anger, inadequacy, compassion, and love. All that before noon. Feelings seem to be part and parcel of the human life, not something God could be bothered with or would want to be bothered with. So, when I am confronted with the notion that God has feelings, it gives me pause. Fr. Richard Rohr, in his daily meditations on The Prophets, says; We know and we feel; if we are children of God, then somehow what characterizes our heart and humanity must be reflected in who God is. Maybe the only way to get a handle on who God is, is to speak of desire, to speak of anger, to speak of longing, to speak of love. Prophets help humanity experience the pathos of God, the pain, the feeling, the longing, the desire of God...

A Thirsting Love

Here we are again, that time of year when chocolate truffles, red roses, and candy hearts are a hot commodity. We celebrate Valentine’s Day this week and like a lot of other traditional holidays their origin and meaning have gotten lost on us. Lost in the Hallmark store racks and the commercialization. So, I decided to do some digging and here’s what I found out about Valentine’s Day and the saint whose life and reflection of God’s love, gives the day its meaning. On the website Learn Religions it states: Saint Valentine is the patron saint of love.  He was sent to jail for performing weddings for couples during a time when new marriages were outlawed in ancient Rome. While in jail he was introduced to Julia, the young daughter of his jailer, and developed a friendship with the girl. Before he was killed, Valentine wrote a last note to encourage Julia to stay close to Jesus and to thank her for being his friend. He signed the note: “From your Valentine.” That note inspired people to begin writing their own loving messages to people on Valentine’s Feast Day, February 14th, which is celebrated on the same day on which Valentine was martyred. Believers say God worked through his life to perform miracles and teach people how to recognize and experience true love. I realized recently that true love, that is God-sourced love, is abundant and all around us, but often we don’t recognize it. We are programmed to see love in the hearts and flowers and Xs and Os, but so often miss it in the quiet, gentle movements around us. I glimpsed true love at a funeral for my daughter’s friend’s mom and the outpouring of care and concern for her friend from her circle of dear friends. I glimpsed true love in a conversation over lunch with a friend who is taking care of her husband who is battling cancer. She relayed a story of how she and her husband found themselves in a laughing fit at 2am over a not so funny situation. The mercy and patience and sense of humor showed me true love. I glimpsed true love when I happened upon a book titled, I Thirst. It is written by Fr. Joseph Langford, M.C. who was an intimate friend of Mother Teresa. In it he says, The message behind all of Mother Theresa’s missionary activity is simple but staggering: in the poverty and Cross of...

Want It That Way?

As part of Catholic Schools Week, the grade school that our ten-year-old grandson James attends had a Talent Show. The gym was full of teachers, grandparents, fellow students, and parents. The teachers were ready for anything, the grandparents were beaming with pride, the students were giggly with anticipation, and the parents, especially those whose children had signed up to perform, were white knuckling their phone cameras quietly praying their child didn’t blank out on words to their song, the steps to their dance, or the magic in their magic trick. Funny how the parents seemed more nervous than the kids. James and his buddy, Sam, had decided to sing the Backstreet Boys song “I Want It That Way.” Dressed all in black with sunglasses and stocking hats to add to the overall “too cool for school” look, they hit the stage full of confidence even when the sound system failed them and they had to sing the whole song acapella. That is, James sang the song, Sam chimed in on the chorus on a microphone that wasn’t on. So basically, it was James singing, alone with no accompaniment, in front of a gym full of onlookers, including his classmates. Recipe for disaster? Could have been, but instead, it was sheer delight. Before long the student section was singing along and waving their arms in the air. (As were his mom and grandma.) I half expected to see phones with flashlights on, waving in the air for an encore. What amazed me even more than the fact that James really can sing, was the bravery of those two boys. That took a lot of courage to put themselves in such a vulnerable position in front of their peers. To rise above the technology challenges. To not factor in the possible criticism or embarrassment and just do what they were there to do. Out of their bravery and confidence came good. What do you need courage for today? Where do you need to be brave and just do what you are there to do? Is there a hard conversation that needs to be initiated? A life changing decision? A prompting outside your comfort zone that you know you need to answer? I have been watching the video series “The Chosen” recently. It has reminded me of just how much courage and bravery the followers of Jesus had as they set out to establish the early church. Talk about...

A Face in the Crowd

Do you ever feel like you need a break from trying so hard to be good and do good? Has your life become a marathon race of trying to be good and do good. Do you secretly long to just read a trashy romance novel rather than inspirational books on how to be good and do good? Do you want to binge on Gilmore Girls rather than use that time to pray and meditate on how to be good and do good? Do you often feel guilty for not being better and doing more? I have felt all of the above lately. I know from past experience, that when I feel this way, it means I’m out of whack. It means I am trying to be God instead of trying to be Godlike. Once again, I have taken on the troubles of my little world and the broader world and think I can ease them on my own. I have good days when I can surrender this backpack of burdens and really believe that God will take good care of them in His perfect time and in His perfect way. I relax and find peace and rest in my days. Or day, I should say, because so often the surrender only lasts a day, at most. I get very impatient with God; I grab my backpack from Him and fling it back on my shoulders. I figure out ways to solve the troubles.  Most often those ways involve a lot of my time and energy. It involves me being good and doing good. The more “good” I become and the more “good” I do, the better chance the situation will change, the person will change, the world will change. This being God is exhausting, obviously. I also know that when I get whiney like this and feel burdened, I need a good shot of encouragement. The gospel for today is powerful encouragement from Jesus. The Beatitudes. And boy did he know his audience. He knew just what kind of encouragement they needed. He knew there were those who were poor in spirit, totally relying on God. But fighting doubt. He knew there were people who were mourning. Those who lost someone they loved dearly or something that was good. He recognized those passionate about justice, those who keenly feel the pain of injustice. He sensed the suffering. He noticed the merciful, the persecuted, the clean of heart, and the peacemakers,...

An Opportunity

We celebrated Martin Luther King Jr. this past week. Or did we? That day comes and goes every year and each time I feel a twinge of guilt.  I never really feel like I “celebrate” as I should because I don’t know what to celebrate. In fact, it reminds me of just how far I am from a deep understanding of African American history and a deep understanding of what it’s like to be a woman of color in our world today. I would venture to guess that most of you reading my blog right now look a lot like me. No, it’s not the unruly, dyed blonde hair, grey-blue eyes, and furrowed brow (see past blog) that binds us; it’s the fact that most of us are of European descent, don’t know soul food from fillet of sole, and at one time or another, most likely in our teens, suffered from a severe sunburn that left us looking red as a lobster.   In short, our skin is white. It seems unbelievable, but I went sixty-three years without knowing, let alone befriending, a black or brown skinned person. I didn’t purposely try to avoid it; the opportunity just never presented itself. Or maybe I never put myself in situations where the opportunity would present itself. Three years ago, following the death of George Floyd, and the race issues that it raised in its wake, I felt God calling me to a new awareness. I wanted to learn. I wanted to listen. I wanted God to present me with the opportunity to know women who didn’t look like me. And He did. I personally have been blessed and Firstfruits, collectively has been blessed, with two women of color that have come into my life and onto the board of Firstfruits two years ago. They have taught me, and personally shown me, how much work needs to be done before all of God’s children are one. They have pointed out that it’s really only by God’s grace and the power of the Holy Spirit that the unity we all desire can truly happen. It won’t happen overnight. It takes the building of a foundation of trust. It takes a lot of honest talk. It takes a strong sense of humor. It takes a lot of love. But it can be done. We just need to want it. I want it. How about you? Joan Firstfruits is committed to the work of listening to and...