Last Attempt at Beauty Call

Well, peeps, it's that time again.

For various reasons, this might to be my last attempt at beauty fests for lack of interest. (Although, for my last call, I did get one very beautiful reflection, an anonymous contributor, whose Jesus beauty will be included).

 I know, it's kind of a hassle to send something to someone's random blog amidst the craziness of every day, so really and truly no hard feelings!!!  If today's response is significant, then perhaps I will keep it going, we shall see. 

SO, if you enjoy the chance to share something of your own thoughts or photos, send them now.  There's no time like the present.  If you so choose, I will make the contribution anonymous and the source will be known only by me. 

Like I've said before, it need not be long, eloquent, technically perfect or anything like that.  Just your little piece of beauty, shining out to show that the world is good, that amidst the pain and toil and suffering, there are beautiful things happening and we're not going to let those moments die with us.

I know, drama for your mama just done up and exlpoded in that last bit. 

Speakin of mamas, that's the theme of this weekend's beauty fest.

Do you have a favorite picture of your mother?  A first memory?  A hilarious tale or incredible yarn of her unbelievable strength?  Perhaps your grandmother, friend, sister, or favorite nun taught you what it means to be a mother.

Let's share the beauty, folks! 

And you can even send that special mama in your life her link to the Mama Beauty post as a wee way to brighten her day, in having the courage to share her amazingness with the world!!

Peace out, peeps.

Solitude

Well, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the kids are engrossed in parallel play (Ceci turning in circles, throwing q-tips in the air like May flowers, Jacob putting his figures in and out of a suitcase in an elaborate game of hunters), and the living room looks like a refugee camp as we continue the packing process.

The packing process because, well,

We leave in 5 days!!!

This time has passed so quickly, and until last week I wasn't ready to leave yet.

During our four months in Israel, there has been much healing and transformation in my heart and life.  I was unsure of returning home for fear that these transformations, the full extent of which I still haven't processed, might dissipate in a cloud of unknowing.

But then, I went to Abu Ghosh on an overnight private retreat.

I've spoken often of the French Benedictines there, where we've gone to Mass a few times, including the Easter Vigil.  Walking into the courtyard of palm trees and wild flowers, an ancient church and stone benches, is like entering a different reality, a heavenly reality.

After our first visit to Abu Ghosh, I decided that before our departure I would HAVE to come for an overnight if they had guest quarters.  As blessings would have it, they have lovely guest quarters and an opening this week.  So, off I went to spend a day with the sisters, joining them for meals, prayer in their cloister and shared prayer with the brothers in the Crusader church.

From childhood, I have always reveled in capturing a quiet moment, resting in natural beauty and gleaning energy from solitude time.

As dear Sr. Marie-Laurent led me to my quarters in the airy, sunshine-filled hoteliere, I knew it was going to be a wonderful 24 hours.  Each room was named after a biblical woman, and mine was Miriam.  Girlfriend certainly interceded on my behalf for a prayerful time.

Another guest, Madeleine, arrived just as I did.  Like Sr. ML, she spoke very little English and I very little French, so we got by in stunted verbage and wild gesticulating, surely a sight to see.  The lack of shared vernacular actually encouraged me to avoid mindless chatter and escape into solitude a bit more, and enjoy my surroundings:

I settled in, took a brief nap and then the sole English speaking member of the community, Sr. Mikayla, came to chat with me about the prayer, meals and spiritual identity of the Benedictines.

One of the central charisms of Benedictines is hospitality.  They regard each guest as Christ, treating visitors with great care and attention.  In days of yore, the abott and monks would run to greet a visitor, prostrate themselves and wash the hands and feet of (surely awestruck) newcomers.  There is  great beauty in the overt humility illustrated by such gestures, and hearing of it moved me.

 Kevin and I feel that a special work of our family is hospitality, and I think that is why we are so drawn to the Abu Ghosh Benedictines.  Although this community doesn't adopt the same exact ritual of greeting, they do welcome guests in a special way.  But I shall speak of that later.

I attended vespers (evening prayer) in the church with both communities, the sister and brothers/priests.  There were quite a few laypeople in the congregation, some obviously part of a tour group and others who come to Abu Ghosh often, to attend the liturgies, feeling a sense of community and pride in this gem of Israel.

Another thing I LOVE about them is how much BEAUTIFUL chant and polyphony they have throughout their liturgies, much of it memorized.  True to the healthily humble self-regard, no individual voice sticks out in dramatic bravado, but the sound seems as if to come from one and many voices simultaneously.  At one point, they improvise sung prayer, with notes, ornaments and trills weaving together in golden aural threads.  Tongues of the angels, people, tongues of the angels.

Then again, how could you NOT want to praise God all the time when you live and pray here:

It's amazing how, even those of us who tend to be loud and (just once in a while ;) a bit obnoxious, being in a place of intentional quiet and order inevitable calms one physically and emotionally. 

Because of the very ordered structure of their day, the sisters know that what they do at any given time is the most important thing, be it mowing the lawn (in their work habits---awesome), or praying, or welcoming guests.  Like the Church Herself,  it is in the very clear expectations and intentions that the sisters can freely abandon themselves and their every breath to God.  It's just beautiful....

After Vespers, I joined the sisters for dinner.  I got to walk through part of the cloister. It's curved arches, natural light and unbelievable roses make one want to cry for all the beauty it offers. 

 As Madeleine, the other guest, and I stood in the entryway of the sisters' quarters, the abbess introduced us (all in French, or course), and I was touched to see that they recognized me, smiling and going on about my "belle famille."

Then, the sisters filed into the dining room and stood at their place settings around the u-shaped mission-style wood tables with a place for everything and everything in its place, right down to the individual trivets at each seat for passing the food.

Before we, the guests, sat down, we enjoyed this community's unique demonstration of hospitality. 

The abbess, who is certainly pushing 90 but spry as ever, stood before us with Sr. Marie Laurent, who held a basin, jar of water and towel.  As the other sisters sang a beautiful prayer, the abbess tended first to Madeleine, then me, washing our hands with the greatest care.  In heartbreaking tenderness, she took each finger, making sure the water reached every crevice from tip to palm, then drying in the same deliberate and reverent manner. 

Of course, I had begun crying right away.  Then, as the abbess finished drying my hands, she placed her face in my open palms and kissed them. 

I. lost. it.

 The sisters giggled at the obvious mutual love and gratitude, reveling in the beauty of the moment.

 I carry Christ within me, and I am worthy of love. 

That I am able to admit this is a miracle in itself.

More to come...

Cheeks in Paradise

Always a lurker on I Heart Faces,

 

 I've finally decided to take the plunge and submit a picture for their weekly contest.  The them for this week is Soft and Sweet.  Though most pictures will likely include newborn babies a la Anne Geddes, or children amidst darling animals, I chose to include this picture of Kevin and Ceci from Ein Gedi in Israel. (It is one of the most beautiful places we've visited in our 4 months here).

Because, really, what's more soft and sweet than a naked baby in the arms of a burly man? Soft, sweet....and, well, sexy too. :)

Call for beauty, Jesus-style

Ok, folks, I'm gettin' back on track to regularly scheduled beauty fests.  My routine will be to put a call out for beauty on Fridays mornings, with the resulting post on Sunday evening.  That should give plenty of time for you to reflect, snap pictures, write a limerick, etc. 

This week's fest is about faith.  As we near the end of the Easter octave, let us reflect on this past week's blessings, and perhaps something beautiful you experienced, bathed in Easter joy.  Perhaps it was a beautiful Easter liturgy, or seeing your littles all dressed in their best.  It could also be a fruitful Lenten practice---just something that brought beauty to your life.

Let's do this thing!

Oh, and for preparation's sake, next week's theme will be a Mama-loving beauty fest for Mother's Day.  If you already have something to share for that, feel free to send it along at the same time.

Do you love your mama? 

Show the love!

Procrastination Breeds Success

I have been a tardy husband.  I have promised Danielle for months that I would write a guest post for her outstanding blog, and for one reason or another (e.g. writing a dissertation, hanging out with the kids, manual labor, household chores), I have consistently put it off.   The procrastination ends now. 

The thing I was going to write about in January was how happy I was to be back in Israel, but this time with my family.  Last summer here was amazing, but being separated from Danielle, Jacob, and Cecilia was one of the saddest experiences of my life.  After being here  together for well over three months, this topic is nearly obsolete.  It has been great to be here with them and to share with them so many of my experiences from last summer.

Traveling is usually a good occasion for getting some perspective on life, for broadening one’s view of the world, for seeing things in a new way (http://gpodder.net/episode/1714908).  This trip has been no exception.  You see, Israel is different than Indiana in many ways (the people, the food, the landscape, the conflict, the history, the holiness, the almost complete lack of Mitch Daniels).  Being here has made all of us appreciate even more our family, friends, parish, places of school and work, having a car, the existence of bacon, and cheaper groceries (Are these prices really necessary, Israel?). 

Visiting holy and historical sites with the family has been delightful, On a few occasions, I have been able to go to the Western Wall with Jacob to pray.  Last summer, I admit I was jealous to see various Jewish men going up to the Wall with their sons to pray.  Now I can share that with Jacob, and I don’t think he’ll ever forget it.  Going to many places from the Gospel with him and watching him make the connections in his own mind has been beautiful for me as a father to watch.  

Amidst the traveling about and holy sites, most of my days are spent as they normally are back home, sitting quietly in a library, reading and writing.   This probably sounds boring to most people, but it is how I flourish.  I have an unquenchable, if not unhealthy, desire to learn as much as I can about everything, from my relatively open tendency to study the Bible and theology to my lesser known loves of philosophy, contemporary politics, semiotics, sociology, satire, alliteration, film (both primary and secondary sources), professional comedians (thanks Marc Maron!), poetry, and science.  Like Danielle, I am an admitted beauty addict and refuse to get help. 

It can be traumatic to uproot one’s family and go somewhere else, whether temporarily or permanently.  Those who are forced to relocate because of a job, military obligations, family reasons, or political strife know this too well.  Since Cecilia doesn’t know any better, the trip has been hardest on Jacob, who misses his family, friends, and school.  Unlike me, he is what you might call “social” and enjoys spending time with friends.  He has flourished in his own ways here (learning a ridiculous amount of material and skills-think Napoleon Dynamite) but is eager to get home and back to his routine of structured mayhem.

It has been lovely to watch my bride flourish here.  While she initially underwent something like what Jacob did, plus a side dish of sleep deprivation, she nevertheless thrives on solitude and quiet like few people I have ever known.  What is great about Tantur is that is ideal for anyone.  If you want to see people, they’re here, especially at meals.  If you don’t, you can stay in your room or go to the library, which is almost guaranteed to be empty, with the exception of a certain strange looking “never nude” who is writing a dissertation on the Psalms.  Since Danielle has a great appreciation both for being with people (she is known by many as “The Awkward Diffuser” and has an extraordinary gift of bringing people together) and for being alone, the environment has been perfect for her.  Add to this our enormous apartment here, which dwarfs the one back home, and you get a much happier Mama. 

Danielle is a voracious reader, and I have long envied the speed with which she can read almost any kind of book.  Needless to say, she has devoured several giant books while we’ve been here, and I can confidently say that her desire for learning has been set ablaze.  If I could read as fast as she could, I would have finished graduate school long ago and already have tenure.  It has also been delightful to observe her random but effective homeschooling of Jacob.  The kid is learning so much (reading, math, State capitals, how to use an obnoxious number of parentheses), mostly because of Danielle’s tireless dedication, inventiveness, and shared curiosity.

We are eager to go home soon, but I know that Danielle and I will mourn our leaving.  It has been a fruitful time for us as a family and especially for us to grow closer as a couple.  Our marital spats are up there with the best of them (no, not quite “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” -probably closer to the other well known Elizabeth Taylor film “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” but without the repressed sexuality and alcoholism), but the extra time we have together here has made us fall ever deeper in love.  We have been best friends for just over 10 years, and our time together here has reminded both of us why this is the case.  I will never be able to thank her enough for her willingness to go on this adventure with me.

I will try not to be as much of a stranger to the blog.  Given the recent posthumous release of his final novel on Tax Day, I should probably offer some thoughts on David Foster Wallace in the coming weeks.  We’ll see…

Joy and Divine Reality

So, it's a miracle that anyone even comes back to this ole blog of mine, as I post in such fits and bursts.  A huge post a day for a few days, and then nothing.  :)  I'm thinking on our return home, after settling back into a schedule, I may be a bit more consistent....but then, maybe not..


I have realized that, although I would LOVE to capture every single moment in word or picture form, it's just not realistic.  When I find a free evening, nestled in the worn armchair with the sliding door open and the last call to prayer resounding in Bethlehem, I will share what I can and trust its job of portrayal is good enough....

This past week has been saturated with beauty, music, prayer, community, Jesus, food, wine, chicks, and all manner of goodness mixed with sadness and goodbyes too.  Just when I think, "Okay, there can't seriously be another incredible evening/meal/homily/conversation/fill-in-the-blank," then there's a huge swoosh of awesomeness just waiting to burst on the scene.

In the interest of pure expression and maximum sharing, I'm going to lend this post to a very, very stream-of-conscience, run-on cheese-fest in all its glory, so bear with me, k?
~~~~

Last night, we bid adieu to dear Sr. Bridget.  She is leaving her post as vice rector of Tantur after five years. 

A woman of incredible intelligence, compassion, service, prayer and  joy, she will be greatly missed.  There was delectable chicken and lamb chops, salads, potatoes, wine, desserts, speeches and the like.  We Haleys led a rousing chorus of Swing Low Sweet Chariot/I Wanna Sing/Oh When the Saints.  With people joining in, singing with abandon and giving thanks for dear Sr., it was a sight to behold.


What a blessing.


~~~~~~


Georgia, dear sweet Georgia,  whom we serendipitously met at the Church of the Annunciation while in Nazareth with the Haleys.  It was pouring rain, and after walking to the church, we wanted to get out of the rain and pray a bit, wishing we could attend Mass.  Upon entering, we noticed the main part of the church was roped off for a Spanish Mass just beginning.   We walked up to the two sweet ladies working, and asked if we could join.  Ceci took an immediate liking to her, and Georgia watched the kids for the entire liturgy, sending them over with flowers and kisses.


Yeah, she's just that awesome.


After the Mass, we visited with Georgia and learned that she belongs to a Catholic lay community called Shalom, and it's based out of Brazil.  She's volunteering in Nazareth for about 6 months.  Right away, we could sense her holiness, her kind heart and a true kindred spirit.  So, we did what we do and invited her to come visit.


As God would have it, she was able to come stay with us from Wednesday to the wee hours of Sunday.  Though she was gone much of the time at Triduum services, what time we had with her was so blessed.  Hilarious, vibrant, kind and sweet, she fit perfectly in with our zany family, right down to the fact that she bought an adorable chick for the kiddos.

Enter Mr. Yellow

Although he has already met an early demise, due to unknown reasons and despite the most tender care, we are thankful for the time we had with Mr. Yellow.  

We love you, Georgia!  We are thankful for the gift of your presence, your presents, for babysitting so we could go to the Easter vigil, and for weathering Ceci's middle-of-the-night cry fest.  BESOS!!

~~~~~

Abu Gosh.

A hidden gem, an Eden, a tranquil center of peace and beauty.

I must say, I think that we knew a bit of heaven on Saturday night.  The Benedictines just know how to do an Easter vigil.  

Admittedly, I have a weakness for these moments, as evidenced by the whole gist of this blog.  Kevin can attest, what happened on Saturday was nothing short of heavenly feasting.


We began outside, under a canopy of palm trees and verdant landscape, surrounding the blazing Easter fire.  Used to light the Paschal Candle, it entranced us with it's consuming power
Kevin and I made the jaunt out with the lovely Carol, one of the Easter seminar participants hailing from Australia, and Ben who, though not Catholic, braved his first Easter Vigil.  (Can I get a woot woot for Ben---many Catholics have never been to this 3-hour long uber liturgy)!


With the liturgy in French, I was able to revel in the incredible symbolism and imagery of the Mass, the sensuality, the veritable offering of a lover to her Beloved.

We processed through the dark courtyard outside the 800+ year old church, following the solemn procession of nuns, priest and brothers.  They all look like brides of Christ, robed in white.  The sisters' ankle-grazing veils and the utter ecstatic love on their faces moved me to tears.  As one of the oldest sisters walked passed, our eyes met, her hand grasped mine and smiled as if to say,  "Yes, my dear, this is true, this is beautiful, and this is only the beginning of what Jesus offers you."

To try and begin to describe what happened in those three hours, in an ancient church, voices imbued with heavenly joy, Eucharist, the intimacy of strangers, the pierced growing pains....would be impossible. 

I can only say, get ye there if at all possible, drink in, soak in, revel in, bask in, bathe in the beauty because it's there, and it's a floodin' about the place.

Just like our Easter celebration at Tantur:

What's not to smile about, when you busted out a big ole lamb for your peeps?

Oh, and by the way, I totally want to hang with this guy on his front porch.  Just sayin'.

Christ is risen, He is risen indeed!

Haley Trip: Old City and Haifa

Well, if yesterday says anything about the amazing moments we are to experience this Holy Week, I figured I'd better do a catch-up post about the Haley trip.  I trust that, although no writing can truly capture the beauty of living an experience first-hand, it will just have to do. 

First, I am just so thankful that we had a whole week together in the Holy Land.  Though the first part of the week (and our Galilee trip) was rainy, we still went to everything and the kids traveled so well.  I really am in awe of their big adventurer spirits and hope to keep feeding the fire of curiosity.

Anyhoo, the first full day (Monday), we had a slow morning and then went into the Old City to hit many of the big Christian sites like the Cenacle, the Church of the Dormition, etc.  These visits marked the beginning of a trip-long blessing of having these sacred spaces to ourselves, if only for a moment.  Considering tourist season is really in full-swing, that says a lot about divine blessings.

Many of the churches here, as anywhere, have such incredible live space in which to sing, and Kev and I took the chance to sing Rosa Mystica in the Church of the Dormition.  With just our family and a few people who came in later, we sang.  Melodious and tender, this song is so moving, and quite dear to us.  We sang it in Folk Choir, where we met and fell in love.  Afterward, the handful of French tourists who had walked into our impromptu concert complimented us warmly, and off we went.

Before stopping for a late lunch, we visited the Western/Wailing Wall.  The women and men have separate sections, with the men's side being about 3-4 times larger than the women's side.  As a result,  our side ends up being 4-5 rows thick of pressing, determined women hoping to make their way to touch the wall.  

Although it was my fourth or fifth time visiting, it was the first I was able to lean against the wall itself, joining my prayer with the Jewish and Christian women surrounding me.  Women praying in Hebrew, English, French, Amharic, singing, weeping, beating their chests and schuckling (moving back and forth as they pray the Torah).  It was intense and beautiful.

Of course, Jacob wanted to get pictures of Papa and him with their kippahs (yarmulkes) on.

And Ceci showed off her "falling asleep when I darn well need to anywhere, anytime" skill:

Sibling love

Courtesy of Jacob--poor Papa wasn't feeling too well.  :(

Now that we're acclimated to the city, it was such a treat to be able to show our family around like locals (or as much as one can be a local in 3 months' time). 

Kathleen, Mama and Papa had their first schwarma --Papa's with just meat, of course.  Then we took them to the adoration chapel that is just a piece of heaven on earth.  They braved Damascus gate, and piled onto the bus tired and ready for naps.  And let me just say, seeing broad-backed fair Irish Papa squeezing through the narrow aisle in the bus of slight Arab men was certainly a sight to see.

Considering jet lag, culture shock, and the sheer sensory immersion/stimulation/overload that is the city, I was quite impressed with how they handled it all, and they even went to the Hebrew-speaking parish after a quick nap!

Tuesday brought rain and a full car for our trip to Haifa, Nazareth and the Galilee.  Not to let it dampen our spirits, we set off to visit Stella Maris, the Carmelite monastery in Haifa on Mt. Carmel.  According to an online source and a guide book, the church would be open until 1:30.

After a bit of a construction delay, a beautiful albeit rainy drive up the Mediterranen coast and a short search through the hidden roads of Haifa, we made it by 12:30,  just in time to have an hour in the church. 

Or did we?

My stomach dropped when I passed the church on the way to the bathroom.  Hoping nobody else saw the sign saying it closed at 12:30, I furously ticked through the possibilities.  We could have a long lunch and wait the 2.5 hours until it re-opened, or we could beg.

As providence would have it, we happened upon the gift shop just at closing time.  There was a baby monk there who, upon my request for a concession to the closure, he claimed he was unimportant and pointed to a quiet Arabic woman saying, "She's my boss."    :)

We politely asked if there was any possibility at all to peek into the church, that Kathleen was entering the Carmelites in a month, and even if just she could go in, it would be a great gift.

"So sorry, it's closed," she said gently.

Well, Papa Bear came out at, what at the time was, shall we say....on the intense side...ended up being the conduit of gift.  Olivia (as we later learned her name) said she would try to phone the abbot.  A short call later, and she had permission.

A family visit to the Stella Maris Church on Mt. Carmel.

A family visit in the quiet, peaceful church to ourselves, away from bustling crowds and shutterbugs, with a peaceful moment to bless and pray for Kathleen and this next step in her journey.

Elijah's Cave

Our angel, Olivia

To be continued.....