PuggiLola

Lesson Not Learned
At the heart of the Easter story is sunrise the first Easter morning.
Women who attended the death of Jesus at Golgotha, ritually prepared him for burial, then left his tomb closed behind a rock guarded by Roman soldiers, bravely return.
"Who will roll back the stone for us?" they ask undaunted by their act of defiance returning to the tomb of a buried, crucified Christ.
What they find is an abandoned tomb, guarded by an Angel, we are told, announcing to them the news of the risen Christ, sitting next to an empty shroud that once was wrapped around the lifeless body of Jesus.
The shroud becomes legend because of the imprint of Christ’s body, especially the marks of the wounds of crucifixion.
The women leave, except one, who is distraught and moves outside the tomb, to be met by a “stranger” who asks why she is distressed.
The conversation varies by biblical text but we know who it is between, Mary, known as the Magdelene and the risen Christ.
Mary is commanded to go and tell the others that ‘He is Risen.’
Mary is the first messenger of the good news of the risen Christ and women have been in the backseat as messengers in the Church ever since.
Whether women were present at the last supper, we can only surmise, with absolute certainty, when the twelve disciples were charged as priests, that now is the traditional day on Holy Thursday when men are ordained as priests in our modern day Church.
Whether those same women were also present on Pentecost, when the men who received the good news from Mary, and having received the Holy Spirit, then go out to publicly preach the ‘good news’ after weeks of being in hiding, is also left for us to ponder.
Women were not considered news worthy except that Mary at the tomb on Easter Sunday morning was and remains so to this present day.
What lesson should we take from this? Certainly one that the Church has not fully learned, or has yet accepted, about the role of women in the Church.
The day will come when the Church will “get it,” the message that is, and women will be ordained and take their rightful place as priests. 
"Go and tell the others" Mary was commanded on the first Easter Sunday - entrusted as Christ’s first messenger.
Some day in the not so distant future, many other women will follow in her footsteps and take their rightful place preaching the good news as ordained priests in the Roman Catholic Church.  
For now, it is about the lesson of Easter Sunday Church leaders have failed to pass on for over two thousand years.  For now, the stone has not been rolled back for eligible, wanting to be ordained women waiting to go out to tell the good news of Christ to our modern day believers.

Lesson Not Learned

At the heart of the Easter story is sunrise the first Easter morning.

Women who attended the death of Jesus at Golgotha, ritually prepared him for burial, then left his tomb closed behind a rock guarded by Roman soldiers, bravely return.

"Who will roll back the stone for us?" they ask undaunted by their act of defiance returning to the tomb of a buried, crucified Christ.

What they find is an abandoned tomb, guarded by an Angel, we are told, announcing to them the news of the risen Christ, sitting next to an empty shroud that once was wrapped around the lifeless body of Jesus.

The shroud becomes legend because of the imprint of Christ’s body, especially the marks of the wounds of crucifixion.

The women leave, except one, who is distraught and moves outside the tomb, to be met by a “stranger” who asks why she is distressed.

The conversation varies by biblical text but we know who it is between, Mary, known as the Magdelene and the risen Christ.

Mary is commanded to go and tell the others that ‘He is Risen.’

Mary is the first messenger of the good news of the risen Christ and women have been in the backseat as messengers in the Church ever since.

Whether women were present at the last supper, we can only surmise, with absolute certainty, when the twelve disciples were charged as priests, that now is the traditional day on Holy Thursday when men are ordained as priests in our modern day Church.

Whether those same women were also present on Pentecost, when the men who received the good news from Mary, and having received the Holy Spirit, then go out to publicly preach the ‘good news’ after weeks of being in hiding, is also left for us to ponder.

Women were not considered news worthy except that Mary at the tomb on Easter Sunday morning was and remains so to this present day.

What lesson should we take from this? Certainly one that the Church has not fully learned, or has yet accepted, about the role of women in the Church.

The day will come when the Church will “get it,” the message that is, and women will be ordained and take their rightful place as priests. 

"Go and tell the others" Mary was commanded on the first Easter Sunday - entrusted as Christ’s first messenger.

Some day in the not so distant future, many other women will follow in her footsteps and take their rightful place preaching the good news as ordained priests in the Roman Catholic Church.  

For now, it is about the lesson of Easter Sunday Church leaders have failed to pass on for over two thousand years.  For now, the stone has not been rolled back for eligible, wanting to be ordained women waiting to go out to tell the good news of Christ to our modern day believers.

April 11, 1966
Remembering the fourteen during Holy Week at the Sisters of Mercy novitiate in Madison, CT.

April 11, 1966

Remembering the fourteen during Holy Week at the Sisters of Mercy novitiate in Madison, CT.

Her body moves slowly towards the bed, unsure, unsteady as her left hand reaches back for mine.
Suddenly at the moment of contact the moment fixed in time is transfixed into another time over sixty years earlier - I am holding her hand as we walk towards a big redbrick building, my first day of school. I see the big letters of the school name carved into the stone over the steps, St Peter School, and that image is just as fresh as the day I first experienced it.
"Nothing’s going to hurt you, not while I’m around" plays in my head - the song, the memory all happening together - the overwhelming sensation of the reversal of roles - the vulnerability of the moment shared takes over as I struggle to stay in the present moment overtaken by the emotions of the past.
Nothing is going to hurt you not while I am around this night to put you to bed assuring you you will not fall, I will not fail to hold you steady on your way.
Life gives us these moments so rarely - the gift of them is a mystery not to be questioned but only answered with gratitude.
Her hand lets go of mine, as it did so many years earlier.
I have brought you this far together with me and now it is time to let go. 
It is almost time to let her go forever as her aging, tired body moves onto the bed then comfortably under the blanket.  
That reality takes over as I turn off the light and call out good night. It is almost time to let her go forever.
In another time I had so say goodbye to you that morning in the hospital.
I did not know then that it was would be forever. I know now what it is like to let go forever and fear its presence again. 
In this time I am filled with moments of holding on, letting go, wanting to hold on. 
I know now what I did not know once before. It is almost time.
Sweet dreams.

Her body moves slowly towards the bed, unsure, unsteady as her left hand reaches back for mine.

Suddenly at the moment of contact the moment fixed in time is transfixed into another time over sixty years earlier - I am holding her hand as we walk towards a big redbrick building, my first day of school. 

I see the big letters of the school name carved into the stone over the steps, St Peter School, and that image is just as fresh as the day I first experienced it.

"Nothing’s going to hurt you, not while I’m around" plays in my head - the song, the memory all happening together - the overwhelming sensation of the reversal of roles - the vulnerability of the moment shared takes over as I struggle to stay in the present moment overtaken by the emotions of the past.

Nothing is going to hurt you not while I am around this night to put you to bed assuring you you will not fall, I will not fail to hold you steady on your way.

Life gives us these moments so rarely - the gift of them is a mystery not to be questioned but only answered with gratitude.

Her hand lets go of mine, as it did so many years earlier.

I have brought you this far together with me and now it is time to let go. 

It is almost time to let her go forever as her aging, tired body moves onto the bed then comfortably under the blanket.  

That reality takes over as I turn off the light and call out good night. It is almost time to let her go forever.

In another time I had so say goodbye to you that morning in the hospital.

I did not know then that it was would be forever. I know now what it is like to let go forever and fear its presence again. 

In this time I am filled with moments of holding on, letting go, wanting to hold on. 

I know now what I did not know once before. It is almost time.

Sweet dreams.

beingblog:

A little bit of Celtic musical serendipity for your St. Patrick’s Day evening.

(Audio engineers will cringe)

Accidentally heard this lovely poem by John O’Donohue playing against this marvelous piece of improv by Peter Gabriel, Zoe Keating & Lera Auerbach today. If you open the players in different browsers and start the music at around the 1:24 mark, it’s quite simply spectacular.

RHK
3/17/2014

RHK

3/17/2014

The Holy See celebrates an anniversary.

Happy birthday!

Fantasy Fountain rests in the southeast corner in Gramercy Park in New York City.
Its beauty is most complimented in spring when red tulips surround it followed in late spring by beautiful purple allum.
Gramercy Park is most loved by neighborhood dog owners whose daily dog walking routines around its four cornered sidewalks create a special bond.
I know because I was one with Lola, my fawn pug.
At evening tide, also in spring, at Easter, we shared the beauty of the pink and purple lights of the Metropolitan Life Tower coming around the park towards home.
Even though Lola and I were fortunate to have access to inside the locked gates of the park by way of a key, our twice daily walks were outside, west then south, then north back to our Gramercy Park North apartment.
Many times we met Walter along our way, a very senior male pug who could barely amble the walk.
Spring was also the time of the annual Gramercy Pet Parade, a neighborhood event in which every dog participant received an award - Lola’s blue ribbon award is still on the refrigerator.
Lola is gone now but Gramercy Park will come alive again this spring. 
Lola will once again visit Gramercy Park when I take her ashes back to our Gramercy Park neighborhood. Lola was a more New York City dog than our suburban Lake Katonah lifestyle.  
She will be now, forever.

Fantasy Fountain rests in the southeast corner in Gramercy Park in New York City.

Its beauty is most complimented in spring when red tulips surround it followed in late spring by beautiful purple allum.

Gramercy Park is most loved by neighborhood dog owners whose daily dog walking routines around its four cornered sidewalks create a special bond.

I know because I was one with Lola, my fawn pug.

At evening tide, also in spring, at Easter, we shared the beauty of the pink and purple lights of the Metropolitan Life Tower coming around the park towards home.

Even though Lola and I were fortunate to have access to inside the locked gates of the park by way of a key, our twice daily walks were outside, west then south, then north back to our Gramercy Park North apartment.

Many times we met Walter along our way, a very senior male pug who could barely amble the walk.

Spring was also the time of the annual Gramercy Pet Parade, a neighborhood event in which every dog participant received an award - Lola’s blue ribbon award is still on the refrigerator.

Lola is gone now but Gramercy Park will come alive again this spring. 

Lola will once again visit Gramercy Park when I take her ashes back to our Gramercy Park neighborhood. Lola was a more New York City dog than our suburban Lake Katonah lifestyle.  

She will be now, forever.