Rooted in Optimism

Beatrice Bruteau author of Radical Optimism and many other books, wrote many articles including one entitled Radical Optimism Rooting Ourselves in Reality.  In this she spells out thoughts and concerns, applicable for our times, re the imagination.  To this article I add my own thoughts and reflections.

Bruteau suggests we need to be aware of the power of our imagination. Is my personal and our collective imagination feeding distortions, fear, falsehoods and being fertilized by such things as the news and social media that conjure up the worst of the news?  Often today, the term “fake news” throws red lights and fear around what we use to take as truth or fact.  In our minds, inner walls now rise.  We seek safety. Such reports may lead to bullying or buying guns as suspicions grow.  In these ways, the images we absorb from the media, can reinforce an unbridled imagination by building negative thoughts.

Louise Hay cautions, “If you accept a limiting belief, then it will become a truth for you”.  Frequently, those who can imagine the impossible against all odds, can achieve their goals.  Here the imagination projects hopeful, inspiring direction.  The learning then I would suggest, is that on our life journey, we need family or friends who are help up stretch our boundaries and to live the best of who we are and can be together. We never do this alone. Ever!

In history, Jesus stands out as a person not limited by his fears. He called others to trust. While perhaps imagining the worst for himself, he was not consumed by such thoughts, but believed beyond his own imagination, in a God who loved and cared for the world. Not once did he repeat “do not be afraid.” But rather over and over again.

Bruteau in her writings during her lifetime, like Jesus, rained down courage, faith, inspiring rays of light upon the earth. Her influence engenders refreshing hope to readers even today. Inspired by prayer, she exuded the gift of imagination in a broad, positive and reflective way.  Bruteau is a guide for today who envisoned the story of creation and relationship with God, in a new way because of a deeply refreshing perspective .  

Quoting from Pauls’ Epistle to the Philippians, Bruteau writes, “Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things” (Philippians 4:8). Those words root us, ground us and focus us. They serve as a “guide” for our imagination. We find direction for our lives.  We find hope.  Now when hearing many voices, we, with an awakened consciousness, are firmly rooted.

- Patricia St. Louis csj

Reference: www.worldcat.org/title/radical-optimism-rooting-ourselves... Radical optimism : rooting ourselves in reality. [Beatrice Bruteau] -- Beatrice Bruteau is a Christian philosopher whose vision of life is an inspiration to some of the most influential thinkers of our time. In Radical Optimism, she shines new light on the deepest truth ...  

Passion Sunday

I am taking my reflection from the Passion narrative of Luke’s gospel just at the end of it which states “All Jesus acquaintances, including the women who followed Him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things.”

Hopefully as you read this reflection the weather will be more inviting and welcoming but today I want to reflect on the terrible cold weather of just a few months ago. I was driving down Main Street in Hamilton on the absolute coldest day I have ever experienced.  My car was delightfully warm.  I was so spoiled as to even have the seat warmers on.  However there I passed a younger man holding onto a pole without the proper clothing, no boots, no hat, no gloves.  This intersection is possibly one of the busiest in Hamilton.  While I was distressed to see this individual and annoyed that it had interrupted my comfort, I was sure somebody else would help him.  I continued on my way for a substantial distance when I came to my senses and realized I had to make sure he was ok.  I turned around and there he was in the same place with nobody there with him.  I felt I was doing my civic duty asking if I could call an ambulance for him but could get no response.  I went on a little way further and did call 911 but the dispatcher said that an ambulance could not be sent only if he had given permission for it and that the police would not come to check on somebody like him because they were too busy. I tried to tell her that this man must have some psychiatric issues but it became an argument as to how I could assess this?  Once again I drove around the block and there he was but this time somebody was trying to put some gloves on him.  He agreed to get into the car and I tried again to phone for an ambulance.  Thank God this other man did get through and an ambulance was coming…

From the back seat of my car I could hear the man repeating over and over again how troubled he was.  Finally the ambulance arrived and the woman attendant could not have been more attentive and compassionate to him. 

I, too, was troubled as I drove away, wondering what we as a city have come to?  Do you have to be rich, or influential in order to be treated fairly?  The very next day I wrote a letter to the police chief, outlining how I was treated and ultimately what poor attention this man received.  One of the police chief’s assistant’s contacted me and assured me that they would look into the matter.  Her response was that her father has Alzheimer’s and it could have been him out in the cold.  The good news is that a week later the woman contacted me again to say that all of the people involved were spoken to and that action had been taken.  She was most appreciative of the feedback and felt that in her words “this was the best resolution of a case that she has handled in her twenty-two years of service".

Today I am questioning myself - how often do I simply watch from a distance, not choosing to get involved? Is my relationship with Jesus from a distance or is it so intimately alive that I will put myself out there for the poor? Then at Mass shortly after this episode our Deacon quoted from Mother Theresa who said, "How can I truly recognize the poor among us if I am too poor to pray?"   My prayer is that I (we) continue to see with our eyes wide open!    

- Sister Ann Marshall

Fifth Sunday of Lent

Up to now the Lenten Liturgies have nourished us with invitation after invitation to conversion. Each Lent seems to encourage us to the “more” in deepening our relations with our God, Jesus, the universe and all that lives.

Todays Scriptural messages are particularly poignant and pointing – pointing to expand our hearts and horizons to the new, the more, the deeper, “No need to recall the past… see I am doing a new deed, even now it comes to light; can you not see it?” (Is. 43:18, 19) As we read these words, I’m sure each of us taps into what they could mean in our lives here and now.

In John’s eighth chapter, we see Jesus being challenged by the authorities. With the woman caught in adultery standing in the open for all to condemn, the Pharisees wanted to know what spin Jesus would have on this situation. They knew him to value each person, even women and children. This situation would surely catch him off guard, so much so that they slunk away without a response.

Rather than throw stones, we are called to love our neighbour, to help restore their dignity and leave them with hope in the mercy of Christ. We know that the capacity to forgive is one of the infallible signs of Christian maturity or holiness, the proof that we are growing in wisdom. Like St. Paul, in his letter to the Philippians we “strain ahead for what is still to come” … “racing for the finish”. (Phil. 31:13)

Let us not allow this season of grace to pass in vain. Let us ask God to help us continue on a path to true conversion, leaving behind our selfishness and self-absorption, so as to stand firmly beside our sisters and brothers in need and hopefully radiate God’s powerful grace and transforming power to all creation.

- Sister Betty Berrigan, CSJ

The Slipper Slip-Up

It wasn’t a matter of ‘more haste less speed’.  No, I think it was the comfort of my cozy slippers which caused me to head out to work in them.  My bag slung over my left shoulder, my water bottle clutched in my right hand, off I head all dressed up with somewhere to go.  Heigh ho, heigh ho, it’s off to work I go.  Stunned, I come to a sudden halt.  I don’t have to look at my feet, snug within my footwear.  I know what is; certainly not my well-worn clogs in which I daily walk those endlessly long corridors at the hospital where I minister as a chaplain. It’s my slippers!  What should a professional woman do, but turn around, go back to where those clogs patiently await my feet.  Heigh ho, heigh ho, now off to work I go, all the while wondering what would have happened, had I, horror of horrors, arrived at work in my comfy slippers.

 If you were to talk to some of my friends, they’d tell you about my quirky mind.  While my clogs carried me quite nicely, though not as comfy as my slippers would have, I wondered what, say doctors or nurses, might say if I wore slippers to work.  One of my colleagues, a palliative care doctor, might just smile and commend me for choosing to care for my tired feet.  Now, a fellow chaplain might glance at my slippered feet and, concerned not only for folk’s spiritual wellbeing, might perhaps secretly envy me not only for thinking outside the proverbial box, but for walking outside the ‘shoe box’.  I would most certainly steer clear of the otolaryngologist, aka the head and neck doc, for he might want to examine my head. However, my heart would go out to all the weary nurses who might longingly glance at my comfy slippers wishing they could wear slippers.  So, come to think of it, why don’t I start a new sartorial trend and wear my slippers to work? 

And here is the clincher which makes me ponder whether to don or not to don slippers at work.  In the article, ‘Could Wearing Slippers to Work Actually Make You More Productive?’, Dr. Karen Pine, professor of psychology at the University of Hertfordshire and fashion psychologist, told   The Guardian     that our sartorial selections can strongly influence our mindset. In response to this fascinating idea, a slipper company in the UK, “is encouraging people to wear their (yes, you guessed it) slippers to work, claiming it improves employees' productivity.  A spokesperson for Shoegarden told The Sun that allowing their staff to wear the fluffier footwear has been “tremendously beneficial for our workplace performance.” ¹

Aha, it seems my slippers know something I did not know.  My slipper slip-up was not for nought.  Negotiating those long hospital corridors in the comfort of my slippers, may well have a salutary effect on my overall wellbeing, and spill over into my ability to offer the best possible pastoral care to the patients entrusted to me.  Would I be daring enough to wear slippers to work?  To don, or not to don slippers at work, that’s the million-dollar question.

- Sr. Magdalena Vogt, CPS

1)     https://www.womenshealth.com.au/could-slippers-increase-productivity-at-work

The Prodigal Son; The Forgiving Father

As I turn the page of my missalette to the Gospel for the 4^th Sunday of Lent, my mind sighs, “Here we go again”. How many times since childhood have I read and pondered “The Prodigal Son”, an age-old parable of love, sin and forgiveness.  Turning from the son’s transgressions, these days my focus lingers on the longsuffering father who lovingly and mercifully welcomes the errant son back home. Amazingly, the father asks no questions but envelops his son in an embrace of warmth and forgiveness. I find myself asking, “When have I been a forgiving person?  When have I been forgiven?”  Ah yes – my mind settles on the forgiving mother!

When I was a little girl, my parents went to town for groceries, leaving me and my siblings at home.  They weren’t more than in the car when my sister and I began running around making noise and having fun.  Somehow, we chose the revered spare bedroom to cavort and play.  As fate would have it, I bumped into the beautiful golden hued antique lamp and sent it smashing to the floor.  Imagine my horror as I surveyed the treasured lamp now in shards.  We pondered what Mom would say when she arrived home.

Finally, the back door opened, footsteps crossed the kitchen and into the hallway.  The house was ghostly quiet.  I’ll never forget my mother’s shocked countenance as she entered the bedroom and surveyed the damage.  Not a word was said as she bent down and began to clean up the mess. the two of us sadly crouched on the floor handing her delicate fragments of gilt-edged glass.  There were no angry words, no reprimands.  I felt complete forgiveness wash over by being.  My soul was quietly restored to peace.  We had a forgiving mother. 

If my mother’s love was beneficent and merciful    how much more expansive and universal is God’s loving, healing presence as portrayed in the magnificent parable of the wayward son and his magnaimous father.

- Jean Moylan, csj

You might enjoy this lovely song by Keith Green, The Prodigal Son Suite, which tells the story of the Prodigal Son is such a loving way.