During the height of the pandemic, the priests of the diocese were given the opportunity and the blessing to talk with each other (over zoom) and talk as individuals and as a group to several counselors, therapists and phycologists about how we were doing. As you would expect, in the group sessions, we were all at and in different stages of coping and dealing with the new reality of the moment.

At one point in the conversation I mentioned about my coping mechanism and the need to continue to work on my self-care. The counselor on the zoom call reminded me and the other priests that self-care is not self-medication and anesthetizing ourselves to the reality surrounding us. I was reminded of this when I picked up a book I had been reading at the time “Radical Acts of Love” by Susan Skog. The counselor reminded me on that zoom call and all the other priests listening that “self-care” is more than just watching out for your self…it is about connecting and caring for each other. It is about making sure we are giving and receiving the necessary love that God commands of us in the great Commandment, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’  All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (MT 22:37-40)
“What are you giving out into the world — rocks or gold? What do you hope your heart gives to others? If you want to have more compassion for others, we have to set the intention for that. And meditation and contemplation, quiet stillness, and prayer are one way we do that.” (p. 79 from “Radical Acts of Love” by Susan Skog) We cannot give out what we do not possess. It is entering into a time of quiet and hearing the call of God to be united with Him and with others. While the pandemic forced many of us into isolation we cannot be forced into contemplation of God and into a deeper and fuller prayer. The temptation is to fill life with noise. It can be the quiet noise of television or video games or the louder and more hurtful noise of addiction and abuse of our bodies. If we simply fall into our own little world and fail to be outward looking at the same time as we look inward to the Divine we soon enter destructive and non-productive moments that drag into greater and greater time that is gone.

One of the things I began to notice more acutely was my surroundings during the pandemic. My confession, I am not a good housekeeper. I don’t clean up well and my office and living rooms can become cluttered very quickly as I allow my eyes to be consumed by the busyness that I can immerse and surround myself in. As I read the quote below…I took notice.
“Add more beauty around you. Or bouquet of russet corn flowers on a weeping gray autumn day can immediately quicken and lift your heart. Weave in whatever encourages you to be loving and heart-centered.” (P. 81) To add beauty I had first to remove clutter and the mess around me. I am still far from perfect, as anyone who visits my office can tell, but I am better. Taking time to contemplate the beauty of a flower, the taste of a good meal, the photo shared and just the glory with which God surrounds us heals the heart and breathes new life into the soul. It allowed me to focus on who and what surrounded me and drew the love of life into the relationships of hope that nourish the soul.
My rooms are filled with the reminders of my faith. My prayer altar is adorned with icons, statues and cards of remembrance. I have statues and pictures, crucifixes and rosaries placed throughout me living space…but do I notice them or do they just become another spot on the wall or something to be dusted on a shelf? “What can you mount in your heart—in your home and office — to remind you of your desire to be of good heart? What would the plaque or poster say? Post it where you will see it daily, where it will get splattered with toothpaste, coffee, and tomato sauce. It will signal the angels, “This! This! This is my true intention to live from my heart.”(p. 81) I placed a family photo on my desk where I gaze upon the love that is shared and the blessing of our God who has, even in the struggles and sadness, plants seeds of joy and hope in my life and in each of our lives. To mount in my heart the laughter and tears of my deepest joy and love.

The time of the pandemic cost each family and each person so much it is hard to quantify. The gashes and brokenness are easy to see and often we spend most of our time and energy seeking the healing and repairing of these wounds but over the past months what I have become more attuned to are the small paper cuts, the hundreds of tiny nicks that slipped by under the radar as we dealt with the “big things” that needed attending.
“There is a precious about life we’ve lost and we must recapture. Our sight’s been dimmed, blurred, blinded. Somewhere along the way, for so many complex reasons, we’ve increasingly stopped seeing one another as human beings, as exquisite extensions of ourselves, as heart-of-my-heart needing decency, love, and care. We don’t seem to fully see one another as human anymore, even when we need it most.” (P. 85) It’s hard to see the other as blessed and holy when we are struggling to see ourselves in the same way. Our invitation to love, to care for and to bless is grounded in our knowledge that we are loved, cared for and blessed in a community of life. It when we choose to put God into the center of our community, we will begin to allow our vision to be undimmed and permit the healing light of Jesus Christ to fill our souls and lift our heart. This is the true peace Jesus offers me and you and all of us. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” (John 14:27)
God Bless,
Fr. Mark