DARK DAYS IN THE BUCKET

THEY ARE BAD SHEPHERDS WHO PASTURE THEMSELVES
"Thus says the Lord God: I swear I am coming against these shepherds....I will save my sheep,that they may no longer be food for their mouths." (Book of the Prophet Ezekiel 34:1-11)

When I sat down  to write this blog, I wanted this to be about the PAW SOX going to Worcester or about more poets whom I love and who changed their worlds.

No, those would be  fun and interesting topics-- baseball and poetry with may be an aside on the ongoing delights that they are dishing out  daily in the races at Saratoga.

 I cannot go there today because my heart and spirit are weighed down by the recent  disclosures about PEDOPHILIA  in the CLERGY of the Roman Catholic  Church.

Then I read the  Epistle in today's Mass-- read from every altar-- but I wonder how many chose to speak about it from that altar which many have  tarnished.
The Epistle today is from the prophet EZEKIEL and is a harsh judgement against those who use their position as  shepherd to fatten themselves and abuse their sheep.

I do believe that we are at a crossroad for the Catholic Church.  I think the resignation of Pope Benedict and the election of Pope Francis  was a recognition of the coming upheaval, God was sending reinforcements.

I believe that Pope Benedict  saw the corruption around him and knew that he was too old and tired and sick to bring about  meaningful change. So he made a strange move--he resigned and retreated to a  life of prayer.

 Following the promptings of the Holy Spirit the College of Cardinals elected  Pope Francis.  He was a breath of  fresh air  bringing a simplicity and  humility  to the post and an enormous sense of empathy for the sufferings of the poor, the sick and the imprisoned.  But he had inherited a  situation that would try and tax even his talents. 

 The emergence and the growing parameters of the pedophilia scandal show how deeply the  priesthood has been compromised.
To change this situation  will require  extraordinary courage and deep changes in  practices that are seeking to destroy the sanctity of the Church  from within.

IF GOLD RUSTS, WHAT WILL SILVER DO?

I do not  write  out of any personal sense of outrage I did not experience any abuse  from the priests of my childhood. 

I found the distance between the clergy and the laity really repugnant and I disliked  the way that the nuns seemed to fear the pastor. And I noticed how the priests  enjoyed the company  and favors of the richest in our parish.

 I think they label this strange divide "Clericalism". It can only be altered  by making deep changes:

1. Immediately allow all deacons who wish to be ordained as priests--married and unmarried--to do so,

2.  Allow all  nuns and brothers to become deacons. 

3. Start new  training programs to create steps to bring members of the laity into the clergy.

4. Remove that fake and harmful barrier that prevents  lay people from knowing and scrutinizing the actions of the clergy. Let the laity  help govern and not just be in work crews.

5. Learn how ro support married priests --both men and women from the Orthodox, Protestant, and Jewish practices.

The Church will become a secret sad sect if they do not begin  to move in those directions. Ordain women, let priests male and female marry, and  bring the lay people into the Church governing circles.

Pope Francis must embrace and  instigate these movements. I pray that he does. I do not find his recent  words very encouraging.  I will watch very carefully what he says and does in his visit to Ireland this weekend.

I will pray and I ask all to join  me in asking that  Pope Francis finds inspiration in the example of the Saint whose name he chose and was the  first Pope to do so.--- Saint Francis of Assisi.

Remember it was  Francis who in a dream was  directed to rebuild  and repair a derelict  Church.  AND HE DID.

I 

Suicide in Slater Park

OCTOBER LIGHT--I said to my husband recalling a novel by that title written years ago by John Gardner. Shocked and saddened today when I read in the Times that a man despaired;killed himself on Monday in Slater Park.

I go to the Park almost daily and it is my husband's favorite outing.It is a place of family picnics and fishing on the pond and gaggles of geese and children running excitedly through them.It's not a sad place but an oasis of beauty and peace. So it is sad to think that someone despaired there.

 Monday was such a gorgeous day.I remarked that the light had changed. The bright sky was blue;intensely blue and the fluffy clouds; white clouds sailed in blue;high relief. All was bathed in a glow; kind of golden light. And even though it is a sign of the change of seasons from summer to fall; it is also a glowing light that seems to shed glory on even the humblest scene. And in that light pouring down like liquid gold on us all, a man decided to end his life.

 I am thinking of the Pope's urgent message to think of life and its sanctity at every stage--the newborn, the criminal condemned to death and the lonely old. He stressed the loneliness of the aging. I think that is something to contemplate--the loneliness of the old.

 As I age I feel a kind of deep loneliness because in a way my path of disability and care giving has caused me to diverge from the path of some friends. And also so many times when we hear from old friends and acquaintances, we hear of their disability, their diminishing, their despondency, their diseases and sometimes of their deaths. 

 We all know that we are as the poet Emily Dickinson expressed it-- on a trajectory towards eternity.
 Because I could not stop for Death – (479) BY EMILY DICKINSON
 Because I could not stop for Death –
 He kindly stopped for me –
 The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
 And Immortality. We slowly drove –
 He knew no haste And I had put away
 My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility –
 We passed the School, where Children strove
 At Recess – in the Ring – 
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
 We passed the Setting Sun –
 Or rather – He passed Us – 
The Dews drew quivering and Chill – 
For only Gossamer, my Gown – 
My Tippet – only Tulle – 
 We paused before a House that seemed 
A Swelling of the Ground – 
The Roof was scarcely visible – 
The Cornice – in the Ground –
 Since then – 'tis Centuries – 
and yet Feels shorter than the Day
 I first surmised the Horses' Heads
 Were toward Eternity –

Knowing that we are all going towards the same destination and hearing that someone chose to quicken and end the journey early makes me pause. So often in the Bible life is compared to a race--one that we must finish, that we must run well.

 Sometimes I think of our souls that are within us as a great thoroughbred longing to reach the finish line, and we are told by Saint Augustine that we are meant for God and "our hearts are restless until we rest in thee."
 I hope that the man who died at Slater Park found himself racing towards the waiting and welcoming arms of God as he sprinted into eternity.