Miracles Can Happen…Have Happened…Do Happen Every Day

One of the great differences I experience in the faith life here in Italy is the daily importance of recognizing miracles. Whether in the lives of Saints, such as Padre Pio, certainly in the life of Mary and Jesus, but miracles are also an important presence here in the village. Each year as they celebrate the great spiritual miracle of the 1700’s with a procession on May 11. Way back when a priest arrived in Piegaro and noted the lack of participation in worship here, and left behind a crucifix, a thing of beauty, when he left town without much success. Although the priest had little success, Jesus was still at work, the wooden figure of Jesus began to sweat, but not only sweat, but to bleed from the wounds on this beautiful carving. People returned to their faith,returned to church. Where a human could not convince, God rendered a miracle through the artful image of Jesus, a miracle.

Each year in the village there is a worship that overflows the church as all gather to recognize the wonder of God. Every year the priest reminds the people that miracles happen every day, God is alive here in Piegaro and in our world. The service includes the miracle that is celebrated daily, the Eucharist, of taking Christ within, of the power of God to work in our very beings to become as Christ, to love our neighbors as ourselves. A beautiful miracle that is offered to us every day. To have salvation.

This year it was a gift to actually participate in the procession, not simply follow it. The women lead the way, in the middle is the priest, Don Augusto and a beautiful crucifix, followed by the men and all those who wish to walk at the end. The Lord's Prayer, Hail Mary, traditional songs and other prayers are recited during the walk. It is as beautiful to hear as to see, with people of all ages taking part, from babies in strollers to the elders in the community. The weather was amazing this year, nothing short of glorious. One miracle for me is that I now know the words to the prayers, the next miracle will be the songs, ahhhh bella!!

I have had colleagues in the past ask for a meaning of salvation while in America. This troubled me at the time because my own life was so profoundly changed when I received my first communion, when I followed the spirit of God in my life. For me I had experienced a childhood of domestic violence and with faith came courage to report the abuses, I was physically saved. But the miracle that was more powerful in my life was the affirmation of my souls call to love God and neighbor and be at peace with this. For quite a while it concerned me that another pastor would question salvation. Then it hit me, so often in American culture we lean more on logic and reason than on faith.

When the founding fathers of America sat down to form the first congress they had before them a bible, but not even the Bible most of us know, they had Deist bible, in that age of reason all of the miracles had been removed from the text. When Jesus was crucified, there was no resurrection. No healings, no Red Sea crossings, and Paul did not experience Jesus on the road to Damascus, it was a short book. But the start of this nation, its very history, DNA and culture are founded on these basic truths. It will take a miracle for the faith in all things being possible through Jesus to happen in setting.

Thank God miracles happen every day, because there are so many people of faith in America who do see the presence of God alive. But here, here in Piegaro, through the constant reminder of the presence of miracles, I have found much healing through the spirit of faith in that which is unseen than ever before. For me is simply a miracle to be here, to come to know greater of the wonder of worship with Santa Maria, to be in a place that is healing for so many people similar to myself, new arrivals to the community.

In the procession, in the prayers, and in the healing are the experiences of God’s wondrous miracles here in Piegaro which happen every day.
How do you experience God’s miracles through worship?
How do you experience God’s miracles through people?
How do you experience God’s miracles through places special to you?
How do you experience God’s miracles through Jesus, Holy Spirit, and Mary?

Mother Mary and Mother’s Day

It was not quite Mother’s Day, but the Saturday before when Mary, mother of Jesus, mother of all was present in oh so many ways. God unfolded the day before me with a sense of mothering love. The morning started beautifully with a visit to my dear neighbor Maria Pia, who was in the hospital. To see her with color in her face and chatting delightfully, telling stories of her life in Piegaro was enjoyable, she is a caring soul, a reminder of mothering love which endears so many of us newcomers to this village. It was wonderful to hold hands for over an hour, and look into her beautiful eyes full of stories of love for her home and people. Beautiful.

When my friend and I left the hospital it was decided we should visit more this town Città della Pieve, and it was Market Day, a perfect day to explore. As we entered town my friend noted an open door of an old church, we entered into a beautiful sanctuary with a fresco by pre-renaissance artist Perugino, with Mary holding her son Jesus after his death in her gentle embrace. The stone steps to the confession boxes are worn with centuries of souls who have come to pour out their souls in this church honoring the Madonna. It was easy to feel the mothering love of Mary for her son Jesus; son of God, savior. The love of Mary for her son as a mother, you could feel her love and pain as she held her child in her arms.

The next church we entered was the sanctuary of the Madonna of Fatima. In this beautiful church we see how the love of Mary has touched so many globally in her mothering care. In art and words the story of her appearance to children in many lands of God’s great world embraces and brings hope. For me it was natural to light a candle for all the women who have offered loving mothering care who were not my physical mother, but mothers nonetheless. It is a gift to experience the loving care of women who nurture and guide us in the spirit of Mary, caring for all of God’s children as in the day of Pentecost. To pray to this wonderful soul, ahhhhh, peace.

We ran into friends from Piegaro on our return to the car, and I felt God was good to provide us with the food of the market, and to see friendly familiar faces; a feeling of home. How God brings us home. One of the hardest things about being in Italy is missing my dear children, and here in Italy I am blessed with a teen-age roommate who upon our arrival back in Piegaro invited me for a walk, more my routine than hers. She needed a bit of mothering, and it was so nice to feel that connection of being a mother here, and praying my children were having similar experiences in Seattle. When Lila took photos of me later, it would remind me of the days of Katy taking pictures, in her care and in the quality of pictures taken with a loving eye. To share the afternoon with Lila and her dear boyfriend, my heart was warmed with the sense of familiarity, and how we are all family in God’s world.

The lovely day was ended with an evening concert of the children, a wonderful tradition here the day before festa della mama, that the school children sing and play music. To see the families and hear the children was a treat. But there was also a surprise to be had for me in the concert as well as the last group of older children sang a few songs in English, and their last English song was “O Happy Day, when Jesus washed my sins away.” God in infinite grace had the children sing the only “church” song I had yet to sing at the stream, on Easter, while remembering the lovely ladies of Church of Mary Magdalene. A beautiful little miracle that took my heart world-wide in joy.

I would find out the next day that Elida, one of the great matriarchs and mothers of the village had passed into the realms of heaven within an hour of the finish of the concert. I thought what an appropriate exit from this world, to join the heavenly hosts while family and friends were away, to be in peace with Mary, Jesus, God and Holy Spirit on the weekend honoring mothering and family. It made me think of all the prayers of the day:

Prayers for mothering souls in need of care.
Prayers for mothers of those who suffer, as Mary.
Prayers for those who have provided mothering care, as Mary.
Prayers for my children that they may have mothering care when I am gone.
Prayer of gratitude for young people I have been blessed to mother, my own and those who God has gifted me with.
Prayer for the children who offer their gifts of song and joy.
Prayer for those who go before us, always inspiring us in the loving spirit of Mary.

Mary Mother, full of Grace

Even though I was baptized Catholic and my first church experiences; a Christmas fiesta and my grandmother’s funeral, were Catholic, for most of my life I have attended Protestant churches. And yet, and yet, and yet…. It was my choice to attend a Catholic theology school, it was my choice to connect with ecumenical ministries which combined the forces of Protestants and Catholics in unity of mission for our one God, one Christ, one Spirit but there was something about Mary.

In the protestant traditions one the of the greatest issues they have is the Catholic veneration of Mary. Even I struggled with this, the epistles speak little of Mary as they discuss the ways of the new church that followed Jesus, and having been well taught in my churches, I felt this was a major problem of the Catholic church. However, when on retreat in Mexico I was drawn to the honoring of Our Lady of Guadalupe, of her presence and importance to the people. Somewhere in time I realized that within my collections were a variety of art forms of the blessed mother of Jesus.

Here in Italy, it is taken to a new step for me, especially in this month of May, where every mass is opened with the Rosary. In Piegaro, where on Good Friday the importance of Mary at Jesus’ death is vital to the procession, something that spoke to my heart. There is awareness here of the importance of Mary as the mother of Jesus that is so profound and evident in oh so many places. There is her face looking down from doorways blessing homes, there is her picture and words of blessing in the old church, there is her statue and her face as evidence of miracle in the art of the larger church, and she is present in countless roadside shrines and in the homes of most people. Mary is ever present.

Which had me thinking of how important Mary’s role as mother IS, not was. She was an amazing, amazing mother who is the only person who was with Jesus from before conception to his death and resurrection and even further, at the start of the church in the book of Acts. She is a constant presence before, during and after his life. In contemplation of how important her place as mother of Jesus truly is, it made me sad to think of how we have lost her importance in the Protestant church, as if the mother was a side note, something that just happened at Christmas with Jesus’ birth.

But seeing Mary on her knees praying for her son, weeping for her son during the procession on Good Friday emphasized for me how woven completely into the story of Jesus Mary was. There is no doubt in my mind that as I believe in eternity that it is vital to realize that Mary’s story did not end in the book of Acts with the founding of the church, but is as eternal a life as Jesus, as ours. The story of the life of the mother is eternal.

The loss of the importance of Mary was not complete in the Protestant traditions, and in my reflecting on her it was easy to think of the speech of Sojourner Truth, “Ain’t I a woman.” In this speech Sojourner is one of the women called to give a message of faith and there are men present who are being rather dismissive of women’s role in the church. Sojourner, a former slave who stood over six feet tall and is being described as masculine delivers her to the point message, “Then that little man in black there, he says women can't have as much rights as men, 'cause Christ wasn't a woman! Where did your Christ come from? Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with Him.” She spoke of the anguish of a mother who’s children were sold into slavery, she spoke of the importance of women as mothers, this Protestant woman knew the importance of Mary.

Tomorrow is mother’s day globally, we will celebrate here in Italy as well as folks back in the states. I pray for the mothers at Church of Mary Magdalene, where they have seen an increase of 200% in the last year of women with children in need of shelter for the night. Mothers and their babies waiting for weeks, over a month for a permanent place to lay their heads for the night. I pray for Mary’s Place and Church of Mary Magdalene where the funds for vouchers for the year 2011 are already used up because of this increase in need and there was never public funds for this service so desperately needed. For all the women sleeping in cars with their babies, sleeping in doorways, just looking for a safe place….I pray, and as I am here in a church that prays to Mary, it is she I pray to, because who in heaven could know better the struggles of a mother than the mother of Jesus?

My faith has been changed in my time here, it has deepened my understanding of ecumenical, it has made me more open to seeing the feminine holiness that we forget often in the Protestant church. Mary, mother of Jesus, mother of all who pray, knows the heart of mothers everywhere. It is beautiful to see her face in the tranquility of understanding the importance of Jesus, and in the weeping sorrow of a mother feels her child’s pain. God bless the mothers everywhere, God bless every woman who has ever offered mothering love, even when they were not physically mothers. God bless the world, may we cherish the women who are sacred in our lives.
Who are the women who inspire you in faith?
Who are the women who have offered you mothering love?
How do you live out the feminine spirit of God as Mary did in caring for Jesus?

Arches in Entrances and Suppport: gli archi Bellisimi di Piegaro

Whether at the entrance to the village, in between two buildings supporting walls or over doorways and windows as a structural work of beauty, the arches in Piegaro are so beautiful to behold. What is really cool is that for centuries there were three main entrances into Piegaro through arches. These arches were necessary because they formed a natural blockade to close up the city in case of attack, and at the same time offered a welcome to guests for the bulk of history. Currently there are two entrance arches, and both are new since World War II when this lovely town sustained major damage.

The beauty of these arches lies not only in their physical esthetics, but also in the archetitect necessity of them and the metaphors they represent. People are drawn to the arches, whether the tourists as the take numerous photos, folks who have found my blog from googling for such an image, but especially the people of the community who utilize the entrance arches for celebrations.

During the night of the processions for Holy Week, Thursday, when Jesus entered into Jerusalem triumphantly they entered into the most ancient arch/gate from the older church and Friday the night of Jesus’ death they did not go through any arches. The difference it made in the mood of the evenings was immense.
That seems to be something that arches provoke, mood. I remember last year in Todi hearing a thick Texan accent: “Where’s Laverne? She’s probably down one of these damn alleys taking pictures of the arches again.” What had stirred Laverne’s creative imagination only annoyed her husband, but both were strong feelings/moods. One telling note is that my greatest “blind” hits to these blogs has been in image searches for arches, they evoke feelings in people world-wide. They are so beautiful.

But arches are more than beauty, they are strength. The are used as a structural device to hold more weight. In Piegaro the are used to support rooms that span streets, one for a bridge, to support walls on either sides of a street, or even simply to support the wall over a door or window. These great brick and stone buildings need support. This for me is one of the greatest attractions of the arches, there is something magic in the fact that something so beautiful is so strong, or in reverse, that something so strong is so beautiful. Isn’t this a mark of great value and quality, not only in things, but also in people.

One totally inappropriate phrase I have not only heard, but confess to have used multiple times is looking for a man with “balls of brass and heart of gold,” someone with strength and goodness, inner beauty. It is not only something we look for in others, but is a goal most of us have for ourselves. We want to know that we are able to meet any challenge in life, but also have that sense of beauty. One of the Mary’s Calendars in past years was even named the “Strength and Beauty” calendar. It featured beautiful photos of the women with their stories of strength as they overcame homelessness and the root causes of homelessness: domestic violence, poverty, and addiction.

When I see so many visible signs of strength and beauty around me, it is so reassuring. When gazing upon these visions that are metaphors for entrances, support and possibilities, I find hope.
Do you have anything in your life that is a visual reminder of values you cherish?
What do you see that inspires you to strength and beauty within?
How do you utilize your own strength and beauty?

Easter Sunday, He has Risen INDEED

I cannot tell you how much my children would have enjoyed the midnight service celebrating the resurrection of Jesus. Not only because they have years of knowing the meaning and importance of the story, but of something they would have cherished much more….. the Hi waving Jesus. Yes, that is correct the Hi waving Jesus. In the beautiful town of Piegaro where I live, they have the most amazing statues, many hundreds of years old, for processions and for special places of honor in the church during the seasons. As the clock chimed midnight, the men behind the alter lifted, and obviously heavy statue of Jesus with his hand pointed toward heaven and in the course of moving him into place he gave the most welcoming wave I have ever seen. Talk about a joyous resurrection!!!

So often in churches you hear the allelujahs of Eastertide and the folks could be saying any word at all, often rather sullen words, but this was a great sign of joy. Jesus greeting us into the joy of eternity, woo hoo!!! Gone are the woes of his betrayal, gone are the pains of his torturers, gone is the silence of death, and hello to a world with the promise of hope!

What a joyous greeting, and how do we follow it up!?!?! The world now seems to have forgotten that Jesus came to offer hope, we want to destroy and take for ourselves as much as we can from this earth that God created for us all to share. Share, to share is a gift of joy, a way we greet our fellow travelers on life’s journey. When Jesus offers salvation it is a joyous gift he is offering us all to share in. Watching this amazing Jesus rise in Piegaro was a sign of this amazing love for one another that brings greetings for friends, neighbors, and even people like me…someone from the other side of the world!

We have the promise that we can love one another, even our enemies, for Jesus not only taught and lived this, but invites us to join in this joy of eternal love. It is the greeting that never ends. We have the choice, do we greet our neighbors, even our enemies as Jesus did on that resurrection Sunday and throughout his eternal life, or do we mumble the words of allelujah feebly and look upon all with suspicion, fear and a weariness that leads to death, war and ultimately create hell on earth?

It is my earnest prayer that we will all be so eager to greet one another with affection and joy, even as this amazing statue, and the amazing people in Piegaro have done for me. It is so good to fine resurrection in Jesus, and new life in Piegaro, Italy!

A Good Time to Die, Procession of Friday

I had always thought the saying “good time to die” was a bit creepy, but after being bedside with people who were passing well into the next stage of eternity, my mind changed on that years ago. But I had never thought about the concept of Jesus’ death in the light of that phrase until last week. The agony, the suffering were always so out in front, but for the procession on Friday here in Piegaro there was a new vision for me, whereas Thursday was full of tears, Friday did seem in some ways most Good.

The procession started at the larger church, and there was question of whether it would happen at all because of the rains in the afternoon and evening. However, the rain stopped and about 8 p.m. and by 9 p.m. with most of the limini non functioning, the procession went forward as planned. The beautifully red robed Jesus was gone, and instead there was a lying Jesus, being carried to his tomb, and being carried behind him, his weeping mother, Mary. In front of the procession a very large, very heavy cross carried by many generations of young men led the way.

This night there were two busses full of tourists who had arrived to see this beautiful procession, it surprised me to know that many people from other places knew of this wonderful evening. The crowd was even larger this day, even with the rain. It struck me how amazingly beautiful this night was.
One of the central themes that was in my heart at every pause was the presence of Mary. At Mary’s Place in Seattle I often think of the importance not only of Mary Magdalene, but all the other Marys as well in scripture, and here is Mary, mother of Jesus a focus of Good Friday. It was an experience I had never known before. Yet it seemed so right, Mary, the first to say YES to Jesus in saying YES to God, the first to ask Jesus to do something at the wedding of Canaa, knowing his gifts, to be ever present in ministry, and at his death. Mary, mother, an inspiration to all women in her devotion to God’s will is here. I found myself praying for all the mothers at Mary’s Place and Church of Mary Magdalene, for all the mothers everywhere in this broken world, even for myself as a mother. The life that is given through motherhood, Mary has seen Jesus through his whole life to this point, and she grieves.

It is a beautiful grief, however, for the suffering and pain of the past day of Jesus’ life has ended. Mary does not have to watch her child suffer any longer. Where none of the apostles’ would come to the cross, Mary would, despite the presence of soldiers or possible persecution, she would be there for Jesus. This image of the dead Jesus and his praying mother actually held peace for me, she had no fear for his future anymore and the evil humans could do. Jesus in fact was a beautiful vision of resting in Peace.

So many of us have experienced suffering in our lives, whether as victims of domestic violence, wars or even disease. Yet there is often comfort in knowing that this will end. Situations such as patterns of abuse can end when we allow death to happen to the habits that return us to these places and choose new ways. Human can really choose peace, and say no if they want to. And we can always remember that this life is just a blink in time, there is so much more possible. When we release the negative, the worries, and the invitation to suffering we can have a good death. When I think of the wars we are currently engaged in, I pray that people would let the desire for power, greed and fear die, to let those things rest in peace.

How can you let the suffering die in your life?
Where do you see suffering that needs to die?
How can you take part in putting to rest the things that would harm and cause pain?