Prayer: Our Deepest Longing by Ronald Rolheiser
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Author Archives: Deacon Jonathan Jones
Beverly Catholic Kid’s First Communion !
Today was a big day for some of Beverly’s Catholic children. For the first time, they received the Eucharistic Body of Christ, through Holy Communion. The boys looked smart in their dark blue suits and grey pants. The girls were very pretty in their white dresses and veils.
I assisted as Deacon at the celebration of Mass, and for me, the most moving moments during the Mass, is at the moment of consecration, when the bread and wine becomes the Body and Blood of the Christ! Then comes the moment, when Father lifts up the Host, and I raise the Chalice, and the people say in one voice, “Amen!”
Then came the time for Communion. The Pastor gave communion to each child first, then invited everyone else to come forward. Mothers and fathers , family and friends came up, and to each I held up the Host, and said “The Body of Christ!” To which they respond with an affirming “Amen!” And they receive The Lord!
After Mass came the picture taking; with digital cameras and smartphones, parents and can now take unlimited number of shots. The poor pastor finally had to say “Time!” It was a joyous time for all!
Pope Francis, a Globetrotter?
Yesterday,which various media outlets, including the Boston Globe’s website “Crux,” had the story of Pope Francis’ encounter with the world-famous Harlem Globetrotters. This took place at the May 6th General Audiences, in Saint Peter’s Square. The team gave His Holiness a team T-shirt, with his name and a number on it. They then tried show Pope Francis how to spin a basketball on his finger. Let us just say, that His Holiness will need some more practice before he joins the team on the road!
Keep On Moving On!
“I wait patiently for God to save me;
I depend on him alone.
He alone protects and saves me;
he is my defender and I shall never be defeated.
Trust in God at all times,
my people.
Tell him all your troubles, for he is our refuge.”
(Psalm 62: 1-2, 8)
I have posted several times about my layoff, and the aftermath. I have written about the struggles with unemployment assistance, the uncertainty of the job search situation, and the depression that can come with the experience. I do not want to give the impression that everything in my life is doom and gloom. I am not alone in dealing with this new chapter in my life; there is my wife, who has supported me, and when needed, has given me a much needed kick in the ass. There have been family members, from both sides, who have provided help and support in so many ways. There are some members of my parishes, and parish staff, who always inquire on how I am doing, and encourage me onward! My brother deacons continue to be very supportive; some have been an informal networking group for me.
I continue to discover, through the Career Place, and through the Web, new ways to job search; how to get my name and resume out there. At the Career Place, whether in a workshop, or a seminar, you come to realize that you are not the only one going through this. The thing I have to do now is to get my butt in gear. To not just sit and rot, but to get going, to greet each day as an opportunity; not just in job searching, but in those activities that also feed my mind, body, and soul. My job searching will continue to take priority, but also my need to just get out, walk around, get some decent exercise, and enjoy God’s Creation, especially as Spring is really beginning to dawn. This blogging, this writing, is an outlet for my creative and reflective juices. Also taking up the drawing pencil and paintbrush is also another approach I need to look at, and make some time for.
Finally, I need to take care of my soul, to make time for prayer. And not just liturgical prayer, as important as it is, but also for deep personal prayer. I need to entire that type of prayer, which opens me to experience God’s Presence in my life, to experience God’s love and care for me, as I am traveling this new road in my life. In God, I will find my refuge during the tough times; in God, I will recognize the joy and love that is out there in the world. So I am just going “keep on shuffling!”
Still Unemployed; Still Searching
Well, I have been unemployed for about 3 ½ months now. I am coming very close to the end of my severance pay. I have been doing all the things I am supposed to do to qualify for Unemployment Assistance. I have been sending out my resumes, hoping to hook one interview. And the clock keeps ticking!
The last time I was laid off from a job was a little over twenty years ago! Back then, the company I worked for provided outplacement sessions, with a counselor. The state maintained its own unemployment assistance offices, where you had to go to each week. While there, you applied for the next week’s benefit; presented a log of your job search activities, and was able to resolve any issues with a real human person in front of you. While you there, you could check the hard copy listing of job openings, and schedule time on some of the center’s computers.
Now, everything is either done online, or over the telephone. The company hired an outplacement specialist, who worked with me by phone and e-mail. The state no longer has its own branch office, but has contracted with non-profit Career Placement agencies, to provide training on how to search for jobs online, using social media, and opportunities to improve one’s computer skills. You now have to set up an online account with Unemployment Assistance, to make benefit requests, and keep track of your benefits. If you need to speak with a human person, it is over the telephone, and depending on your Social Security Number, you are limited to a particular day to call. Instead of searching the newspapers, you job search on-line; sites like: Monster, Indeed, and Simply Hired, become familiar names to you. Companies now ask that you submit your resumes and cover letters via the Web. There is no address to send a letter to; there is no name or telephone number to call for a follow-up. You just get a form e-mail, confirming the receipt of your electronic job application.
I spend my mornings checking the online job search sites, and I get e-mails from them with job listings. I have sent numerous electronic applications, and attended some job fairs. And I have not gotten a single bite. Come the end of May, the financial situation is going to get very tough. My wife and I are examining possible options, her parents and our siblings have been helping out, and are brainstorming ways to help us through this. Still, I am finding it harder and harder to sit myself in front of the computer. And I will admit that depression, and yes, fear is reaching out for my soul.
In moments like this, I turn to prayer, whether in solitude, during the celebration of the Eucharist, or in front of the Blessed Sacrament. And I have turned again to the Psalms:
In you, Lord, I take refuge;
Let me never be put to shame.
In your justice deliver me;
Incline your ear to me;
Make haste to rescue me!
Be my rock of refuge,
A stronghold to save me.
(Psalm 31: 1-3)
Where I Hanged My Hat Growing Up.
(The following is another writing course assignment I had to complete)
When I was twelve years old, I lived in Peabody, MA, (pronounced Peabedy, if you were from these parts.) I was the oldest of five (we became six when I was in high School!). The house we lived in was built in 1890. It was a two story house, four bedrooms, a living room, family room and combination kitchen and dining room. We had a large yard, with an old, stand alone garage. We had an apple tree way in the back, which never produced any edible fruit, the same with the wild grapes that grew around the edges of the yard. We did have same blackberry bushes, which gave us some delicious berries. Beyond our yard, there was a farm field, which lay fallow. And further back, were woods, where one could hike through, and play various games.
There were some unique features of this house I grew up in! We did not have a garbage disposal; we would bring our food scraps, and dump them in slop bucket, set in the ground. Somebody would regularly come and empty the buckets. The contents would be taken to a nearby pig farm, to feed the pigs. In the summer heat, would see thousands of maggots crawling around the bucket pit. The other unique feature of the house was “the bridge!” In the middle of the house was the stairway that lead into the second floor. There was a small room that separated the two front bedrooms, and a small bridge, over the stair well, which connected the rear of the second floor with the front. It gave access to the bathroom without having to go through all the bedrooms. Whenever we had neighborhood kids over, they thought having a bridge in the house was weird and cool!
There were very good times growing up there, and some sad times. There were times of celebration, of sorrow, conflict, and coming together. It was my home, and I will always miss it.
An Oasis in the Middle of a Concrete Canyon!
(The following post is one of my writing assignments for Blogging Univ. Please enjoy!)
I was in Boston to attend a board meeting of the Massachusetts Bible Society. I was way too early, so I
went to a green oasis in the middle of the Financial District. It is known to most of the workers as the park in Post Office Square, its official title is the Norman B. Leventhal Park. It was not always a park. In the past, it was a rundown parking garage, four stories above the street level, with levels of parking below. A group of public and private leaders gathered the funds needed to tear down the garage, renovate the parking levels below, and create a botanical wonder amidst a concrete jungle.
I went to the local café, paid way too much for an 8 oz. cup of coffee. I sat on the iron bars bench that weaves it way around one side of the park. The calendar may say it is spring, but the air temperature did not feel it. As I sat sipping my coffee, I watched people walking through; some dressed in business causal, others in business suits. I observed who were wearing dress shoes, and who were wearing sneakers. People sat at iron wrought tables, either having lunch, or a power lunch, with papers and files underneath their plates. Some couples sat on wooden benches, cuddling and smooching. As people passed by, I heard financial words, legal terms, and just office gossip. Where they were not gathering was on the grassy center of the park. It was roped off, to allow the new grass to grow and take hold. The trees were beginning to bud; some were wrapped in a muslin liked material, which to this person looked very odd. My eyes looked up further, at the tall buildings that surround this park. Buildings made of marble, concrete, and glass; each containing either business offices, or hotel rooms, or government agencies.
It is in the afternoon, yet the downtown traffic is very light. The sounds of a city at work were not too intrusive on the quiet of the park. I really do miss it here! I got up from my seat, threw my empty cup into the trash, and headed back downtown. I was going back into the bustle, and the noise, to grab a subway trolley to my next destination.
Letter Found on a Road; Hope is Renewed
In the early 13th century, a tradesman is walking down a road in the Umbrian valley of Italy. He is bent over under the weight of the tools of his trade on his back. It is not just the weight on his back that bends him over; it is the weight on his soul. He is a God fearing man, he is a regular church attendee, he prays daily. Yet, he is afraid that he will never encounter Christ, he will never entire the Kingdom of God. He hears priests preaching that only those who enter the priesthood, those who are monks and nuns, sequestered in their monasteries and convents; will see the face of God. And people like him, no matter how hard they strive to live a holy life; will only see Christ after eons in purgatory, being cleansed of their sins.
On the road, he suddenly notices a rolled up piece of parchment. He picks it up, unrolls it, and sees a letter, written in rough Italian, signed with a Tau cross, “T.” He begins to read:
“All who love the Lord with their whole heart, with their whole soul and mind, with all their strength (Mt 22:39), and love their neighbors as themselves (Mt 22: 39) and hate their bodies with their vices and sins, and receive the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, and produce worthy fruits of penance:
Oh, how happy and blessed are these men and women when they do these things and persevere in doing them because ‘the spirit of the Lord will rest upon them’ (Is 11:2)…” *
The tradesman heart suddenly is unburdened; he sees the world anew with hope filled eyes. He hears church bells ringing; he sets off again down the road, towards the city of Assisi.
*These are words written by St. Francis of Assisi, to a group of pious lay men and women. The document has been entitled “Exhortation of Saint Francis to the Brothers and Sisters of Penance.”
Right in the Gut!
Many of us will experience some sort of personal loss at some point in our lives. It may take a while for that sense of loss to hit us; other times it will hit us in the gut almost immediately. The loss I have experienced this year, the one that seems to be hitting me in the gut right now, is the loss of a job. On January 7th, 2015, I was brought into a small conference room, outside of my work floor, and was told, that because of the loss of some major clients, after 19 years of employment, I was being let go. I did not react too well to the news, at first. And truth be told, my boss was not too happy over the situation either; he was known to try to retain the workforce by all means possible. Still the realities of the business situation had forced their hands. We went over the severance package, which was generous; and outplacement services that would be put at my disposal. Now, because of the security requirements our clients have demanded of the company, I was not allowed back to my desk. So I was escorted to the elevators, given a handshake, and that was that.
Now, let me say again, the company staff has been very supportive; my personal items were boxed and shipped back to me. And they have been very helpful in clearing up some difficulties with my unemployment insurance. But still, after 19 years, I found myself without any place to go in the morning. I have been doing the usual things one does, when one is freshly unemployed. I registered with the Commonwealth’s Unemployment Assistance office. I registered with a career placement agency. I worked with the outplacement specialist, who helped me retool my resume, and gave me a set of form letters, each covering a specific stage of the job search. And I have been looking.
However, up till now, I have not been in touch with my feelings about this situation. That is, till now, when we got this writing prompt about loss, and all of a sudden it hit me, right in the gut. (Thanks a lot Blogging U.!) So now, the depression, the fear, and all the anxiety; yep, right there, right in front of me! Or I should say, right inside of me. More about this in my future blog posts.
Some Very Random Thoughts on a Musical Theme
(This day’s post may seem a little odd. I am taking an online course on writing for a blog. Today’s assignment was to free write, just keeping typing what comes into our heads about three songs that are important to us. So please enjoy these ramblings.)
My three favorite songs, the important one’s, the ones that mean something for my life. The first song is from my childhood; “Snoopy and the Red Baron!” It was a silly little song, sung by a pop rock group, whose name I cannot remember. It is important, because I had just received my first phonograph record player, nd the song was on my first 45 record. What pains me even as I am writing this, is that there will be readers of this post, who will be asking: “45?” “phonograph?” “What is a record player?” It is amazing how much the technology of music has changes over the past 50 years! The second song is a Church song, a hymn passed on the prayer “Peace Prayer of St. Francis.” IT is a hymn that encapsulates all of the Franciscan ideals, service, seeking peace, emptying oneself for others, reacting in opposite way from what the how the world would react to a wrong. What is ironic about this hymn and prayer, is that Franciscan scholars agree that Francis of Assisi never wrote these words, that it was written in the 20th Century. The final song is a hymn also, the “Salve Regina.” It is an ancient Marian hymn, a hymn asking for Mary’s intercession on our behalf. It is a hymn that is sung in most monasteries after Night Prayer, the last prayer in the evening, usually in a darkened chapel, before the monks or nuns go back to their bedrooms. Many religious orders will chant this hymn as a deceased member of their community is being taken to their final resting place. When I was in formation to become a Deacon, the head of the program set as a goal for my class to be able to chant this hymn by the end of year. It was and is a means of bringing all of us together, something that we could identify with as being part of the fraternity of Deacons.
Those are the three songs that come to mind right now; there have been others when I hear them, that will bring me close to tears, but I cannot remember the titles. So these three will have to do!
