Marsha's Musings: 2011

Ulysses

Tennyson, Lord Alfred

IT little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match’d with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.	5
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: all times I have enjoy’d
Greatly, have suffer’d greatly, both with those
That lov’d me, and alone; on shore, and when
Thro’ scudding drifts the rainy Hyades	10
Vex’d the dim sea. I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known: cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honor’d of them all;	15
And drunk delight of battle with my peers,
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’
Gleams that untravell’d world, whose margin fades	20
For ever and for ever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use!
As tho’ to breathe were life. Life pil’d on life
Were all too little, and of one to me	25
Little remains: but every hour is sav’d
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire	30
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
This is my son, mine own Telemachus,
To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle—
Well-lov’d of me, discerning to fulfil	35
This labor, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and thro’ soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.
Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail	40
In offices of tenderness, and pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners,	45
Souls’ that have toil’d, and wrought, and thought with me—
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and oppos’d
Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honor and his toil;	50
Death closes all; but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs:	55
the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
’T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths	60
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’	65
We are not now that strength which in old days
Mov’d earth and heaven, that which we are, we are:
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.	70

A few years back, I was asked to give the "stewardship talk" at our parish. I wrote this - and it still says as clearly as anything new I could write - what St. Anne's parish means to me.

Last week, Fr. Y. called me and asked me to give this talk. To tell the truth, I tried really hard to get out of it! I am uncomfortable to stand up here and talk to all of you about what it means to give of time and talent and treasure to the church. There have been times in my life when I have been very much involved in parish activities – I've been a more visible presence and felt maybe I had more credentials to speak then than I do now.

Now I'm retired. I'm trying to run a small consulting business. I move back and forth between Forks and my family in California so much that I can't be relied upon to always be here to be a regular Eucharistic Minister or Lector. I used to teach Confirmation. Now others are doing that. I used to work in the RCIA, but I haven't been involved in that in recent years. I used to be a leader of the prayer group and programs like Renew, but I don't do that these days. I used to lead the communion services on weekdays when we didn't have a resident pastor, but that was years ago.

So what am I doing up here talking to all of you about Parish Stewardship and Sacrificial Giving. For one thing, Fr. Y. is a very effective and persistent motivator. And I have come to believe that often I will discover what God is calling me to by listening to what others ask me to do. I know that when Betty S. gave this talk – was it last year? – I realized it was time to re-evaluate how much we should be donating to the church. Our circumstances had changed since an earlier decision, and it was time to nudge that amount up from what it had been.

My life here at St. Anne's isn't nearly as "public" as it was some years ago – but the same values guide me now as they did then. There are two core values out of which my life proceeds. One of those is that I do not belong to myself. I made a specific commitment many years ago – actually a series of commitments which sort of culminated in a big one when I became a Catholic 30 years ago last Easter. I had grown up in a Protestant home, read my Bible and prayed regularly, and received baptism in my teens. When I became an adult, I began to study theology, and found myself gradually drawn to a Catholic perspective.

But it was during a time of suffering for me – after a long illness and personal issues that had made me very sad – that I put myself on the line. God was still very much an "idea," a "concept" – and I wanted the kind of communion with him that I read about in spiritual books. So I told him if he would just make himself real to me, he could have me whether or not he cured me of my illness.

To my surprise, he took me up on it – and changed my life. I got well. Color, life and energy returned to me – and he became a living presence to me. And to my great surprise I found myself becoming a Catholic! The greatest gift of my life has been the gift of the church.

But I also knew from that time on that I didn't belong to myself. (Now that felt fine to me when it happened—I loved the community of the church that I had discovered in Davis, California – but I was NOT pleased to discover that within weeks of my reception in the church, I was moving to Forks. What??? But it was clear to me – and to Don – that this was where God was calling us. I went to a retreat house in Sacramento for 3 days and told God how dismayed I was that he was taking me away from this wonderful life he had just given me. While I was whining in the back of the chapel, one of the nuns came in and changed the banners up front. When I looked up next, I read this: "As the Father has sent me, so send I you." Ooops! You can't get clearer than that. So I shut up, packed up my house, and moved here in August 1974.

And it was the best of all possible moves – God formed my life and that of my family who now all live elsewhere – out of St. Anne's in Forks.

For those of you who don't know our story, I was the ONLY Catholic in my family in 1974. But after we moved here, one at a time – first my daughter Pam in 1975 - then Lynne after she'd moved back to California in 1976. Then Don who went on a Cursillo with the Forks men in 1977 – then David who went away to college at Steubenville, Ohio in 1979 – all entered the church. And later, in the 80's, even my mom and my sister and her children!

When people ask me about my religion, I tell them that I belong to St. Anne's Catholic parish in xxxxx –

What does that mean? That means I belong to Christ – and he has given me, for better or for worse, to St. Anne's in xxxxx.

The second core value is that I don't own what he has given me – it's really ALL his – and whatever I put down on the commitment card is just a symbol of that. So when Betty S. asks me if I can fill in at Adoration on a Thursday – I have to pay attention - even if I can't do that particular day. I know that Betty has over and over again in my life helped me to know what God was calling me to do, so I had better listen to her.

And it means that if Fr. Y. tells me that he and our pastor have decided I'm it this year for the Sacrificial Giving talk, then I better do it - whether or not I feel like I'm a great example of what it's all about.

So I started thinking about what the whole concept of stewardship and sacrificial giving means to me. First of all, if it all belongs to God and not to me, then I need to look at all I own as being held in trust. I can't just say, 90% for me and 10% for God. That's not how Catholics think. It ALL belongs to him.

Every expenditure needs to be judged on that basis. When we first moved here, we built a house. I used to worry that maybe it was too nice a house! Maybe we should have something less so we had more to give. But Don and I soon recognized that the house wasn't ours – it was God's. And in some ways, it belonged to St. Anne's – so we tried to keep the doors open to whomever God sent. He sent lots of people—some were passing through, some stayed. Some already lived here. Some were in the church and some weren't. (Some of those stuck around and became Catholics though). The prayer group met at our house for years – and then moved to the church – and then sort of melded into other parish groups. The Confirmation kids met here. And during times when our parish suffered through scandal and brokenness, sometimes the broken ones, myself included, sort of hunkered down at our house to lick our wounds. In more recent years, Don and I have lived more privately – and I have wondered sometimes if we were failing somehow in our commitment to use that house for God's purposes.

I suppose that's why a few weeks ago when Patrick appeared in the back of our church it seemed so normal and appropriate to take him home with us. For those of you who haven't heard the saga of Patrick, Patrick was a Black, deaf-mute hitchhiker who came to St. Anne's one Saturday night looking for a sleeping bag and a meal – and he ended up going home with us for a few days We used to do that sort of thing all the time – but it had been several years – and it turned out to be a rather interesting adventure. (and that's a whole other story you can ask me about later – or ask Tammy who supplied him with a sleeping bag)

We have always set aside a portion of our income for giving. I always told my children that if it was something we were supposed to do, God would make it possible. I do believe that if we commit ourselves to giving, God will supply the resources. I've experienced the multiplication of loaves and fishes over and over in my life – we start with the right intention, and then just go ahead and do it, and we seem to make it through the impossible times and meet the impossible goals.

So if I look at the amount I put on my commitment card, it isn't as large a percentage of our income as I would like it to be – but if I figure in what doesn't count, what doesn't get added into the "deductibles" in my income taxes, like needs in the extended family, then I realize God is making it possible for us to do what our financial advisors and tax man said was impossible. We are keeping our level of giving at a respectable level for the church, United Way, food bank, and other charities – and we are helping to raise three more kids in our old age and we are able to help our daughter live with dignity in her own home.

One way God has made that possible, is that he's given me the skills to keep working from home even though I'm officially retired and will soon be pushing 70 – and I'm healthy enough that I keep a work schedule that would surprise most people – this past year I've logged lots of weeks at 60-70 hours. And the work is keeping me energized and involved.

So this is how I look at stewardship. All I HAVE belongs to God. He decides who gets the use of it and for what purpose. He gives me the strength, energy, and skills I need to do what I need to do. All I AM belongs to God and to the people of this community – the people of St. Anne's and the people of Forks. I try to be sensitive to God's call by listening to his people. I try to use my talents for the building of his kingdom – whether it's by what and how I taught in my classroom in the past – and by what I can do now through my laptop computer from my office at home - - or through active ministries in the church.

I remember many years ago in the prayer group we said to one another – our best gift to one another is our faithfulness to the Lord. That is the gift I receive here: the gift of your faithfulness. And that's the gift I try to pass along. We have been through some hard times in our parish – discouraging and dispiriting times. Sometimes I've thought of just withholding support from the church to show my disapproval of the way things have been handled.

I put this little quotation from a Jesuit Priest on my refrigerator for several years – it helps me deal with times when it may be a little hard to love the church. Here's what it says:

"Let me make an uncommonly honest confession. In the course of a half a century, I have seen more Catholic corruption than you have heard of. I have tasted it. I have felt it.

But I JOY in this church – this living, pulsing, sinning People of God. I love it with a crucifying passion.

WHY?

For all the Catholic hate, I experience here a community of love. For all the institutional idiocy, I find here a tradition of reason. For all the individual repressions, I breathe here an air of freedom. For all the fear of sex, I discover here the redemption of my body. In an age so inhuman, I touch here tears of compassion. In a world so grim and humorless, I share here rich joy and earthly laughter. In the midst of death, I hear here an incomparable stress of life. For all the apparent absence of God, I sense here the real presence of Christ. (Walter J. Burghardt, S.J.)

The same church that broke my heart in the 80's when our children were damaged by priests among us, supplied Sister Frances Ferder, a wise and perceptive psychotherapist in Seattle, who helped me heal my broken heart.

So this is how God answered my prayer – I had asked, "God, make yourself real to me." He did. He did it in the gift of his church – in the sacraments – and in his people – in YOU. So I can't escape my obligation to all of you – even by symbolically withholding financial support.

· When our music people share their gifts with us

· when our teachers teach our kids

· when some of you put out trays of veggies and cheese and crackers for a social

· when Tammy decorates our church and hall with cornstalks and pumpkins

· when Betty makes sure that someone will be here every hour of every Thursday for Adoration

· when our people keep the food bank, the clothing bank, the disaster assistance group going

· when somebody takes the sacrament to the hospital –

God is made present to the world—and to me.

I'm sure that there's much I should be doing that I don't do – but what I must do now – because Fr. Y. wouldn't let me off the hook -- is to tell you what has been true for me for the past 30 years of my life.

I am bound to all of you by an unbreakable cord of love and commitment. I belong to St. Anne's in Forks. God gave us to each other.

I love it when our music group has us sing "Here I am Lord" because that song really speaks what lives in my heart:

"Here I am Lord.

Is it I, Lord?

I have heard you calling in the night.

I will go Lord, if you lead me. I will hold your people in my heart."

I have heard him calling – in nights that sometimes were glowing with promise, and sometimes dark with pain.

I've tried to answer his call by giving myself to you.

I do hold you people of St. Anne's – you people of Forks – in my heart.

If we will all hold each other in our hearts, it'll be easier to know how it is we are to share our time, our talents, and our treasures. I'd encourage you to be brave – and commit yourself to more than you think you can handle – and you will find that God will himself make it possible for you to carry out those commitments.