Children's Choir Christmas Concert

(this is my nativity scene, which I place on top of my baby grand piano at home)

 Please come and let the Children of Southwest Detroit
offer you the Christmas Story
told in Song, Scripture and Poetry
in Spanish, English and a little bit of Latin!

The concert is free.
It will take place on:

Friday, Dec. 16th

at St. Gabriel Church, 8118 W. Vernor, Detroit, MI

Daily mass at 6:00p.m.
Followed by the concert
at approximately 6:30p.m in the church building
w/fiesta after that in the hall!

The children will be accompanied by
musicians from the adult choir.
And the children, themselves,
will play various hand-held percussion instruments:
maracas, claves, etc.

Parking behind the church.
The Cesar Chavez Academy is located next to the church
with more parking behind the Academy
and even more parking on Norman Street,
near the Academy playground area.

And, in case you are interested,
here is the program line-up
(subject to change, of course!)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Children’s Choir Christmas Concert - Dec. 16th

Prepare the Way (Taize)
     Wonder Counselor Poem 
     recited by:   Esther, Wendy, Giselle

Lectura
     La Anunciación de la Santísima Virgen María
     Proclamado por: Esther, Wendy, Giselle

The Visitation Poem recited by: Celine

Quiero Decir Que Sí

Magnificat (Taize)
     Magnificat Poem recited by: Anadelia

Lectura
El Sueño de San José - Proclamado por: Juan Diego

Hombre Justo

Lectura
     El Censo / El Nacimiento de Jesús
     Proclamado por - Juan Diego

Las Posadas - Entren Santos Peregrinos

Away In A Manger - Solo by: Elisa

Gloria (Taize)
     The Nativity Poem Recited by: Carlos

El Niño del Tambor

O Holy Night - Solo by: Giselle

Silent Night - Solo by: Lesley

The First Noel - Solo by: Celine

Peces En El Rio - Duet: Esther & Giselle

Go Tell It On The Mountain - Solo by: Wendy

Alegría, Alegría, Alegría

Mi Burrito Sabanero

Heaven on Earth?

About two years ago
I received a phone call
from the man who is now my pastor.
He asked me to come to his parish
to direct the children’s choir.
After some discussion
I accepted
and I started rehearsals
at the end of September 2008.

It was a very messy process.
There were discipline issues,
both in behavior
and in commitment to the project at hand.

But directing children’s choirs
is one of the things I like best.
And,
to be quite honest,
I think it’s one of the things
I do best.

Children are eager.
They learn quickly.

Now,
that’s not to say
that teaching them is always easy.
A rehearsal must be well planned out.
You can’t skip a beat,
not even when a child comes in late
and their mom has a question.
If you lose their attention,
even for a second,
you need to know how to get it back
in an instant.
But if you know how to teach them,
children just learn quickly.

And children don’t have opinions
the way adults do.
Now,
I love working with adult choirs,
so please don’t get me wrong.
But adults are quick to tell you
that a song is too high,
too low,
too fast,
too slow.
They are quick to tell you
that they don’t like a particular melody
or that the song doesn’t fit
this or that particular mass.

Not so with children.

They just sing whatever is presented to them.

But this particular group of children,
well,
let me just say that
anything you can think of inner city
was/is going on in their lives.

I have children who are survivors
of domestic violence.

There was one child that I thought had measles.
When I asked about it
the child responded that
“Mom just can’t get rid of the bed bugs
no matter how much she cleans.”

One evening I came in
and one of the children was already there.
I unlocked and opened the church door
and suggested that she wait at the entrance
until I turned on the lights
so she wouldn’t have to walk through a dark church.
And then she said,
“It’s OK.
I’m used to seeing by candlelight in the dark.
Sometimes my daddy can’t pay the bills.”

Many of these children
live in neighborhoods
with abandoned buildings.

There is a woman
who comes to beg for money sometimes,
standing just outside the church entrance.
To me,
she has sort of become an unofficial greeter.
She is there just about every Sunday
before the rest of the community.
I don’t know her story,
as she doesn’t speak much.
When I try to start up a conversation with her,
she often just walks away.

One child knows her well.
She said, “That’s so-and-so.
She lives in the abandoned house
next door to me.”
I don’t know what hurt me more,
the fact that this woman
lives in an abandoned building
or that the child
just saw it
as a matter-of-fact circumstance.

These are just some of the fabulous children
that form this choir.

And then,
there is one child who is taking guitar lessons.
And I just learned
that two of these children
will be taking piano lessons
in the summer sessions with me
at the performing arts school where I teach.

Somehow,
God has called all of these children together
to form this choir.
What a magnificent God we have!

This past Saturday
the kids sang in concert.
Now,
we’ve done a few concerts already,
but something was different about this one.
Something was just so different about this one.

One of my personal goals
when I took this ministry on
was to have the children
singing in parts
by the end of my second year with them.
Now,
if you would have seen them
at the start of this project,
one wouldn’t think this possible.
Their attention span
was all over the board.
And again,
the discipline thing was. . .
well. . . let’s just say
that they needed refining.

I formed them into two choirs:
Choir 1 and Choir 2
(Soprano and alto).
It took them awhile to get it.
At first they thought
I was separating them
into two different choirs.
But I finally got them to understand
it was about singing in parts.

At the concert on Saturday
they debuted some of the music
they have been working on.
The seemingly unattainable goal
of having them sing in parts
has been attained!

And you know,
I think they knew it.
They knew and understood
that this was big milestone.
And I think they sang so well
because they knew they had managed
to do something major.
They have started to ask me
if we will be forming a “Choir 3" and “Choir 4.”
Little do they know
that I have Taize plans. . . .
. . .something they should be able to accomplish
at this point!. . . .

My babies did great
in the concert on Saturday.
My Beautiful Bilingual Babies
were awesome!
Those in attendance
actually gave them
a standing ovation.
“Nothing gives me greater joy
than to know that my children
are walking in truth.”
(3 John 1:4)

Four of the children,
for a variety of reasons,
could not participate in the concert.

Two children in attendance
asked if they could join the choir.

Another child who left the group
wishes to return
now that he understands
a little something about
long range visioning and planning.

So,
next time around,
the photos and video
will have at least seven more children.

My ultimate goal
is a Children’s Choir
of forty-five members.
Wouldn’t that be just awesome????

And one of the parents
volunteered as choir secretary
to help me keep lists and phone numbers in order.

. . and you know,
I don’t remember where the statistic came from,
but at an NPM conference
many years ago,
a speaker stated
that some 80%
of people who sing in choirs as adults
sang in a choir as a child.
This being the case,
Detroit is Making
some Marvelous Music Ministers!!!

Yeah,
inner city Detroit. . .
. . . would it be a stretch to say
this is heaven on earth????

- - - - - - - - -
St. Gabriel's Children's Choir
singing "El Fuego Cae"
Detroit, MI - June 19th, 2010 Concert

The Cluster Monster is Back

The Cluster Monster’s back
and he has reared his ugly head.
The Cluster Monster’s back,
And he wants to be fed.

He is a fat and ugly Monster
and he hides under the pew.
And you may not even realize
that he is looking for you.

He only has one eye,
only one point of view.
He never uses logic.
Stay alert, for he is coming for you.

This Monster has devoured churches.
He has locked up their front doors.
If you are not standing watch
He will make your church be no more.

Cluster, merge, combine
It’s really all semantics.
People, please be careful
Of this deadly Monster’s antics.

Oh, he’s smooth. . oh so smooth.
He will ask you to dance.
Invite you to meetings,
you’ll think it’s sheer romance.

But then, he’ll trade up your dance partners,
Hokey pokey, turn your parish inside out,
‘Cuz, to date, that’s all he’s done here.
So, pardon me if I let my anger, frustration out.

He’ll ask for your opinion
for your point of view,
but then he’ll destroy what you have built
‘Cuz this Monster doesn’t have a clue.

The Monster discounts all your work
Cares not about community,
He doesn’t see your parish’s charisms,
For his one eye just doesn’t see.

And even if he couldn’t see
that would be no sin.
“But I see that this is how it all must be,” he states,
And into your church The Monster enters in.
(John 9:41)


He doesn’t answer phone calls, letters.
He does not listen at all.
He’s destroying his own kingdom
And yet,
somehow he thinks he’s standing tall.

The Monster confronts and changes plans
Of those who are most proactive,
And rewards those who refuse to work
Rewards those who are so very pastorally passive.

A Diaspora among us
The Schism now and real.
And The Monster’s locking doors???
Taking churches for his meal???

Hey, Monster, say “yes” when you mean “yes”
and “no” when you mean “no.”
For if you don’t than having all these meetings
Is nothing more than a time consuming
ecclesial big top circus side show.

Let your ‘yes’ mean ‘yes’
and let your ‘no’ mean ‘no’
Anything more is from the evil one,
at least, St. Matthew told me so.
(Matthew 5:37)

Monster, your actions illogical, uncompassionate.
Your actions shameful and immoral.
Cluster Monster, you are destructive
and so very unpastoral.

Hey, Cluster Monster!
I refuse to dance!
Hey, Custer Monster
with this poem I take my stance.

I offer prayers for all those
Wounded by your action
May they be healed and rise above
Your pastoral infraction.

I offer prayers for all those
Whose vocations are being discounted, ignored.
May you, amidst, against all the odds, rise
To serve God’s people, serve the Lord.

Pentecost is coming.
Come, Holy Spirit, Come!
Make that Cluster Monster know you!
To God’s will may that Monster succumb.

Come, Oh Holy Spirit!
Ruah, can you, will come with great force again?
Come, Oh Holy Spirit!
Amen and Amen.

The Lord Is My Shepherd

I played for a funeral yesterday.
I received a phone call from the pastor
asking if I was available
to serve as musician.

When I arrived at the church
I learned that the deceased
was an uncle
to two of the children that sing
in the children’s choir.
They are sisters.

I knew that he had been ill.
The girls sometimes
didn’t make it to mass
or to a rehearsal
because they and their mother
were caring for him.

They told me that their uncle
looked just like he always does,
only as if he were asleep.
I walked with them to the coffin.
They told me was 52 years old.

I asked them how their mother was.
They said she was fine,
But did cry every once in a while.
I told them that sometimes
it’s just a sad thing when someone dies.
even if they had an illness,
like their uncle did,
and we know that they are dying,
It still is sad.

It's sad for us
because we won't see them anymore.
Sure,
we know they are in heaven.
But still,
we are saddened
that they have died.

They asked me
if I needed them to sing with me.
Of course,
I welcomed them.
But I told them to check with their mother first
as she might need them
to sit with her.
I told them
that sometimes it just feels better
if you have your people with you
during moments such as these.

The girls decided to sing.
But once I started the psalm
little Chelsea broke down.

The power of music,
the power of the psalm
Just amazes me,
“El Señor es mi pastor
(The Lord is my shepherd. . .)
I continued the psalm
and the child buried her face in her hands,
trembling as she wept.
During the second reading
I walked over to her
and just hugged her.
I asked her if she wanted to sit with her mother,
and she said, “no.”

She wanted to sing.
She needed to sing.
She knew that this
is where she need to be.

Now,
I don’t know
if I’m about to explain this
so that others can understand.
But herein lies the difference
between being a musician
who works for the church
and serving as pastoral musician.
This wasn’t just about
giving a hug to someone who needed it.
It was realizing
that little girl
knew full well
that music is her ministry
and despite life’s struggle and pain
she wanted and needed
to sing for this mass.
And I knew
that she also knew this.
Does this make sense
to anyone else but me?
You know,
It really doesn’t matter.
I understood well
What was happening.
And I am all the better for it.

As mass was finishing,
The girls walked through the door
and down the stairs of the choir loft.
Suddenly,
Chelsea ran back up.
She said, “Bye, Rubi,”
and then started down again.

Now,
These may seem like incidental things
that I write about here.
But,
somehow,
I think these girls,
especially the one moved to tears,
committed themselves
to the music ministry
in a very special way.

Chelsea,
The Lord IS my shepherd.
And it just thrills me
That you can say the same thing.

Faith on the Edge - Reflections on the Christmas Season

“Faith on the Edge.”
That’s the title of a book
Written by one of my favorite theologians,
Leonardo Boff.
Faith on the Edge:
Religion and Marginalized Existence.

I can’t help it.
Leonardo Boff writes
As if he accompanied me in my ministry,
In my day-to-day life.

I know, I know.
He was the one silenced by
The then Cardinal Ratzinger.
To tell the truth,
I think that’s one of the things
That has made Boff so brilliant.
Tell someone “they can’t”
And they do it (whatever “it” may be)
Much more superbly.

Anyhow,
My Advent reading this year
Included a reread of “Faith on the Edge.”
Then,
I spent Christmas in the inner city.

Boff writes:
“A point of view
is the view from a point.
Change the point
And you change the view.
There are various social loci
(commitments and practices),
and each affords
(and blocks out)
various views of reality. . .
. . .In the center
things are softer.
On the periphery
Things scream at you.
In the center,
Mechanisms of exploitation
Are invisible.
On the margins
You can see them
With the naked eye . .”
(Faith on the Edge, p. 40)

In the center
We tell a quaint little story
of Mary and Joseph
Seeking lodging.
On the margins,
We not only reenact the Gospel passage
With the Posada,
We live it, quite literally,
With fear of INS
Being in the parking lot
Across the street from the church
On Christmas Eve.
Yes, my dear friend, Leonardo,
On the margins you can see them,
These mechanisms of exploitation,
With the naked eye.

In the center
We use a doll for the Baby Jesus.
A doll:
Silent, predictable, passive.
This is, in no way, a criticism.
This is simply an observation.
The center uses a doll for the Christ child.
On the margins
We, quite literally,
Venerate the Christ child.
On the margins
We kiss the child of the nativity
(The baby Jesus from the church’s nativity),
that child who was born in a homeless shelter.
On the margins
We embrace the child
who would later become a refugee.
On the margins
We bless the child
Who would later be condemned
Simply because
nothing good comes from Galilee.

In the center
We sometimes behave as if
Writing a check will make things happen.
While our checks may buy Christmas poinsettias
To adorn our churches,
The check will not water them or tend to them.
On the margins
We sometimes have a better understanding
Of Laos ergon (the work of the people),
Picking up a broom

because petals are dropping to the floor
Or watering the flowers

simply because they need watering,
Not waiting to be asked for help,
Not waiting to be invited to participate,
But doing the work
Because the work needs to be done.

In the center
Our children’s participation in the liturgy
Must compete
With basketball, pom, dance, etc.
On the margins
It’s really not Christmas
Until and unless our children get involved.

And what is “Holy Family?”
In the center,
We favor the shorter version of the Gospel
And omit the section in brackets.
On the margins,
The elderly woman,
The prophetess named Anna,
Is not optional
but integral to the story being told,
to our story being told.

In the center
Epiphany means
We add three kings to the nativity set.
On the margins
Epiphany means all are welcome,
Even if we come from other lands,
Even if we speak differently,
Dress differently,
Worship differently.
In the center
We focus on
Gold, frankincense and myrrh.
On the margins
We understand that the magi
Made a long, arduous and necessary journey.
And we totally understand
Why the magi had to go home
By another route.
In the center
We will bless our doorways
With the initials of the three kings.
On the margins
We understand
What it means
When that same door remains closed.

In a later chapter
Boff writes of the two eyes of theology
(theologia ante et retro oculata),
One before and one after.
While writing this blog entry
I thought that my faith seeks understanding
With both eyes on the present,
With one eye on the center
And the other in the margins.
But after careful reflection
I realize that this is not the case.
The center,
It seems to me,
Tries hard to conserve truth
With an eye on the past.
And the margins
Celebrate truth
With an eye on the present.

The Good News
Is always alive, active.
The Gospels aren’t just historic documents,
They are living.
Theology seeks to understand
And this makes the Gospel
Alive and vibrant.
The Gospel
Isn’t either/or:
Either Historic
Or
Living.
They Gospels are both/and:
Historic and Living.

The Church, too,
Is both Her Center
And Her Margins.

Theologia Ante Et Retro Oculata
Thank you to the Little Lamb of Christmas,
For now I see.

I remain ever grateful
To the Merciful One
Who grants me the opportunity
To walk steadfastly
Between and within both worlds.

. . and yet. . .
because I see
and because I walk easily
between and within both realities
(the center and the margins)

I also see the challenges before me. . .

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

About the photo:

My Nativity set

Made in Mexico of Corn Husks

About the book:

Faith on The Edge

Religion and Marginalized Existence

by

Leonardo Boff, O.F.M.

Translated by

Robert R. Barr

Harper & Row, Publishers, San Francisco

Remembering 911

On September 11, 2001
I was actually at church.
At the time I worked for an historic church in Detroit.
A tour bus had just come in to visit the historic place. . .
. . .the visitors to church didn't know what was happening. . . .
. . .The church secretary, myself and a few others
all watched the towers fall from the TV set in the rectory living room. . .

Three Hail Marys

"There is always enough time to pray three ‘Hail Marys.’"

"There is always enough time
to pray three ‘Hail Marys.’"

That’s what Mary G. would always say.
She was one of those church ladies.
You know the ones I mean.
She did everything:
serve as Eucharistic Minister,
fill in for the secretary on her day off,
stuff the church bulletin,
count the collection money. . . .

She was very staunch in her ways,
often making me very angry
because she always thought
that her point of view
was the only point of view to have.

God has already called her home.
But her words
stay with me:
"There is always enough time
to pray three ‘Hail Marys’"

This really isn’t a hard practice for me to follow.
I have always had a devotion to our Blessed mother,
particularly under the tile of
Our Lady of Guadalupe.

I found myself
practicing this "Three Hail Marys" devotion last night
as I drove home from St. Gabriel parish
after a rehearsal last night.
As I neared the intersection
of Outer Drive and Fort Street,
where the cities of Lincoln Park and Detroit meet,
I found myself with more than enough time
to pray "Three Hail Marys."

A few years ago,
my eldest son was car-jacked there.
I suddenly realized
that I had been praying "Hail Mary"
every time I drive through that intersection.
Last night I realized
that the intersection is calling me to prayer.

At the time when my son was car-jacked,
I found my prayers were three-fold.
Of course,
I offered prayers for my son.

But I also offered prayers
for the young man
who held a gun to my son’s head
and shouted at him,
"Get out the ride."

What could have happened
in this young person’s life
that he chose to do this?

Where did he get the gun?

What did he want the car for?

Even as I write this
I offer prayers to Our Lady for him.
And I remember him
to St. Monica as well.

At the time
I also offered prayers up
for this young man’s mother.

Was she a good mother
whose son went down the wrong path?

Was she a bad mother
who just didn’t care?

Was this young man’s mother deceased?

Whoever she was
and whatever the situation
I found that I needed to offer prayers for her as well.

You know,
it isn’t just sacred space
because we worship there,
because the church building is there.

It’s sacred space
because we walk on it.

It’s sacred space
because we drive through it.

Outer Drive and Fort Street.
It’s a sacred land
because no matter how many times
I drive through that intersection
I always feel the sudden desire to pray.

Thank you, Mary G.
This time your point view
truly proved to be the only point of view to have.

There IS always enough time
to pray three Hail Marys.

About the photo:
Our Lady of Guadalupe Feast Day 2007
St. Hedwig Parish
Detroit, MI

The Mission

I don’t go to the movies much these days.
I only have basic cable
and I can tell you that I watch more
Little House on the Prairie,
Seventh Heaven, and Touched by an Angel
than anything else.

OK,
I do manage to watch Beverly Hillbillies
and I Love Lucy reruns.
(Ricky Ricardo was a Latino before his time,
but that’s another blog entry!)

When my sons were younger,
we’d be at the theater every other week.
My eldest sons are now in their twenties.
But,
I can tell you
that when my sons were training to become altar servers
they were top notch,
remembering all of the special names of things liturgical.

I’ll never forget when Fr. Kelly
asked the group of young folks in front of him
what the name of the this was,
as he pointed to the ambo.
My boys were the only ones to raise their hands.
When called upon,
they answered correctly.
"How did you remember that,"
asked the priest.
My sons responded in the only way
a moving going youngster could,
"Because it’s like Rambo,
only without the ‘r.’"

Yes, the Rambo movies
were quite popular in the mid 80's.
But there was another movie
that went almost unnoticed
around the same time.
In fact,
I think it was more popular South of the Border
than in the United States.
It starred a very young Robert De Niro.
So young, in fact,
that when I watched the movie last night,
I barely recognized him.
It was his voice that gave him away. . .

Anyway, thinking of this film for a few days recently,
I went to my local video renting place
to see if I could find a copy.
Sadly, they didn’t carry it.
Couldn’t find it at the library either.
I did the only thing I could do:
I bought it online over at Amazon.com

It’s a true story about a Jesuit mission
and the wonderful gift of music
God has graced an indigenous community with.

It’s a story that begins
with a missionary
gaining the trust and confidence of the indigenous
through music.
It’s a story that ends
with music that survives
when not much else does.
(And this reminds of the woman
who works at the archdiocese
who told me music isn’t evangelization,
but that’s another blog entry as well!)

It’s a movie about brave and daring missionaries,
and dare I say,
very hard working men,
who brought Christ
to those the world said
where nothing more than animals without souls.

It’s a story about men
who trap other men and use them for slaves.
It’s also a story about men
who are slaves to wealth and power.

It’s a story about a bishop
who knew what was right, just and moral
but deciding to side
with those of earthly power and greed.

It’s a story about murder,
conversion and penance.
And a story about forgiveness.

It’s a story about one man’s
journey of faith
as he answers the call to priesthood.

It’s a story about the horrors experienced
by a community
and the Jesuits who risked their very lives,
indeed, risked excommunication
to protect and guard the sacred
when the church, herself, would not.

Buy it.
Rent it.
Just watch it.
The name of the movie is,
"The Mission."
It starring Robert De Niro and Jeremy Irons.
It will tug and your heart strings.

And then make you all the more hungry and thirsty for justice.
What’s scary,
is that it also opens your eyes
to where many of the injustices lie.

. . . .The thing is,
justice cannot be lukewarm.
Yes,
that’s a very scary thought. . . .

The Church of Google

A friend recently sent me an email about boycotting Google. Although he cleaned it up a bit, I believe it was one of those forwards that got forwarded. To tell the truth, I followed the link in the email and it made me laugh out loud. But I decided to investigate this.

First of all, let me say that I like Google. In all honestly, I would be hard pressed to follow through with such a boycott. You’re reading this blog because Google owns blogger. I YouTube a little. Youtube is owned by Google. I use Google Analytics and Google’s webmasters tools. I search primarily on Google and I also have several Google alerts.

And Google set up shop not too long ago in Michigan. In this day and age when Michigan is suffering so much economically, Google stepped into our fair state and brought some jobs. I thank God for this, and I thank the Google Guys as well. In fact, Google Ann Arbor is hiring. . . I just checked!

So, Boycott Google? Why, at this point in life, it would not only be a life-altering experience, it would mess a little bit with my sense of justice.

The reason for the boycott is a website that claims Google is God and has established a Church of Google. As I said, I followed the link and really thought the whole thing was a joke. Now, I’m the first one to say that we need to be careful about such things. I mean, if the church is sacred, then She is sacred and we ought to treat Her as such. But really, we do need to poke fun and laugh at things every now and again. Poking fun and enjoying a good laugh is not necessarily the same as sacrilege. So. . . what of this site?

I decided to do some research of my own.

TheChurchOfGoogle.org is, in fact, NOT owned by Google at all. If those suggesting we boycott Google read the fine print at the bottom of the page, they would have realized this. I debated about whether or not I should put that link in. I don't suggest anyone join the church of google or anything like that. . . But I mean, even the "Googlism" at the top of the page isn't quite the Google Logo. And even I, a non-graphic artist, can see that.

Alas, sometimes we are so quick to forward things, not realizing the harm this may cause. And to tell the truth, this is beginning to anger me. But I digress.

That website states that the Church of Google was founded by someone named MacPherson of Ontario. The domain, however, is registered to someone named Leudy. Now, I won’t list details on this blog because that would just be wrong. But a little e-investigation and one can find out all sorts of information about website owners.

For example, the domain name was purchased at GoDaddy.com. Now, all things considered, would Google buy a domain at GoDaddy?? Come on, folks. Let’s get real here.

But there are a few lessons to be learned here.

You know, we tell our kids to be careful on MySpace. We tell them to avoid chat rooms. At my house, no one clears the URLs but me, The Mom. I decide when PC cleaners are run. . . .I know where you’ve been online. I know what your doing. I’m The Mom. That’s my job.

But you know, sometimes it’s the adults who just don’t get it. We must remember that what we write in our emails can be announced to the world. Cut and Paste. Fowards. It’s just too easy. Before we really forward information about a boycott we’d better be sure we have all of our facts straight. Anything less is, in fact, less than Christian behavior.

The other thing that is a little frightening is that the person who purchased this domain name didn’t bother with a privacy certificate. Domains by Proxy is an excellent service. But she didn’t bother. Sadly, she’s probably going to get inundated with all sorts of hate mail. . .both snail mail and electronic mail. I was able to find an email address, a street address, phone number. . . .it’s just too scarey. And all I did was search. I mean, I’m not black hat or white hat (probably closer to red hat!). My point is, it’s just too easy to find private info if one isn’t careful. You don’t need to be technically gifted at all.

See what I mean?
We try to teach our kids about online safety, when we aren’t practicing it ourselves. If you’re going to buy a domain for personal use, register for privacy. If it’s for a business and you want your business info out there, make sure you register with business address and information.

And for goodness sakes, if you’re going to forward information about a boycott make sure you’re boycotting what you’re boycotting for the right reasons. Do the research. Anything less is gossip. Period.

Google isn’t god, but is an internet giant. I’m certain that Google and the Google Guys don’t need me defending them. I’m certain Google has top-notch lawyers for that.

But I will defend my faith. And my beliefs are as such that I won’t forward a forward of a forward regarding any boycott until I investigate it for myself. It’s a justice thing. It’s the moral thing. It’s the right thing. It’s the Christian thing.

Quotes from Archbishop Oscar Romero

Today markes the anniversay of the death
of Archbishop Oscar Romero of San Salvador.
Romero was murdered at the altar on this day
twenty-eight years ago.
I remember it distinctly, even though I was just a teenager in high school.

And so,
I offer a this video,
which contains actual footage
and the voice of Archbishop Romero.
A few quotes from this great man of our history
follow the video.
Please take the time to reflect on these words of his.

Oscar Arnulfo Romero; Pray for us.


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How beautiful will be the day
when all the baptized understand
that their work, their job, is a priestly work,
that just as I celebrate Mass at this altar,
so each carpenter celebrates Mass at his workbench,
and each metalworker,
each professional,
each doctor with the scalpel,
the market woman at her stand,
is performing a priestly office!
How may cabdrivers, I know,
listen to this message there in their cabs,
you are a priest at the wheel, my friend,
if you work with honesty,
consecrating that taxi of yours to God,
bearing a message of peace and love
to the passengers who ride in your cab.
November 20, 1977

What good are beautiful highways and airports,
beautiful buildings full of spacious apartments,
if they are only put together with the blood of the poor,
who are not going to enjoy them?
July 15, 1979

A religion of Sunday Mass
but of unjust weeks does not please the Lord.
A religion of much praying but with hypocrisy
in the heart is not Christian.
A church that sets itself up only to be well off,
to have a lot of money and comfort,
but that forgets to protest injustices,
would not be the true church of our divine Redeemer.
December 4, 1977

To those who bear in their hand, or in their consciences,
the burden of bloodshed, of outrages,
of the victimized, innocent or guilty,
but still victimized in their human dignity, I say:
Be Converted!
You cannot find God on those paths of torture and outrages.
God is found on the ways of justice,
of conversion,
of truth.
August 6, 1978

Everyone who struggles for justice,
everyone who makes just claims in unjust surroundings,
is working for God's reign,
even though not a Christian.
The church does not comprise all of God's reign,
God's reign goes beyond the church's boundaries.
The church values everything
that is in tune with its struggle to set up God's reign.
A church that tries only to keep itself pure and uncontaminated
would not be a church of God's service to people.
The authentic church is one
that does not mind conversing
with prostitutes and publicans and sinners,
as Christ did
-- and with Marxists
and those of various political movements
-- in order to bring them salvation's true message.
December 2, 1978

Not just purgatory
but hell awaits those who could have done good
and did not do it.
It is the reverse of the Beatitude
that the Bible has for those who are saved, for the saints,
"who could have done wrong and did not."
Of those who are condemned
it will be said:
They could have done good and did not.
July 16, 1977

How beautiful will be the day
when a new society,
instead of selfishly hoarding and keeping,
apportions, shares, divides up,
and all rejoice because
we all feel we are children
of the same God!
January 27, 1980

Second Letter to St. Peter

March 20, 2008

Holy Thursday

My Dearest St. Peter,

I know it’s Holy Thursday
and you’ve probably got a lot of major work to do today,
inspiring the faithful and all.
But I just couldn’t let this day pass
without asking some more questions.
You see, I’ve been really reflecting all week
on the words of Jesus,
especially on the words he spoke
during those last days of his earthly life.

Good St. Peter, you were there.
I mean, tomorrow afternoon at the liturgy of Good Friday
churches all over are going to sing, "Where you there."
But you, St. Peter, you were there.
So I really believe you are an expert
and will be able to answer my questions.

San Pedro, what did Jesus mean when he said,
"Take this, all of you, and eat it. . ?."
We seem to be getting that all confused.

Did he mean,
"Take this all of you and eat it. . .
. . . . unless you are divorced and remarried
and the tribunal hasn’t finished
processing your annulment yet."

What did he mean by,
". . all of you?"

Did he mean,
"Take this, all of you and eat. . .
unless you are a homosexual. . .
. . . .well, if you are a practicing homosexual
do not approach the altar.
Celibate gays may receive..."
Is this what Jesus meant by "all of you?"

St. Peter, I do not understand.
I mean, I have always found the Eucharist to be nutritive.
So, how can we deny Eucharistic
to people who are starving for it?
I have also found the Eucharist to be transformative.
We become what we receive.
How can someone become what they receive
if they are not allowed to receive?

San Pedro,
how can we sing "All are Welcome" and "Come to the Feast"
during the Sundays of the year,
but then exclude some people
from approaching the table?
I’m confused.
I’m really confused.
What we sing and what we pray
do not match what we do.

And today at Cathedrals around the world
clergy will recommit themselves to their ministry.
Ah. . .what a beautiful, beautiful thing that is.
But. . .it’s problematic.
Clergy numbers are dwindling.

St. Peter,
I was in church recently
and we were told that the priest
was going to be a little bit late.
He was a visiting priest who was filling in for the pastor
who was out of town.
But he had to preside at mass at his own parish first,
so he would be late.
So we waited.
And waited.
More than a half hour late,
he finally arrived and we celebrated the Eucharistic together.
I didn’t mind the wait
and I don’t think the people really did either.
But I began to realize
that this will be a reality more often than not.
Clustering, merging and closing parishes
is really only a stopgap.
By giving these gentlemen 2, 3 or more parishes
we are only aiding in adding stress to their lives.
St. Peter, by placing all of this added responsibility on them
aren’t we really only committing a genocide of sorts?
"Take this, all of you, and eat. . ."
I don’t think he meant to give our priests
stress related heart attacks in the process.

In giving him several parishes,
a priest will preside at several masses on the weekend,
but may never have
a pastoral relationship with the congregation.
He will only arrive on the scene to "do" Eucharist.
St. Peter,
is this turning the ministerial priesthood
into nothing more than a hocus pocus moment?
Are we turning these gentlemen
into sacramental gumball machines?
"Take this, all of you, and eat it."
How can we if we don’t even have someone who will preside?
And will it really be Eucharist
if the one presiding
is so totally detached from the community?
How can this detachment serve The Body of Christ?

San Pedro,
in no way do I wish to tell you
or any of the other santos what to do.
But it just seems like that if we don’t redefine
the ministerial priesthood,
redefine who can be a priest,
the church is slowly but surely
only going to end up holding the Eucharist hostage.
"Take this, all of you, and eat. . . ."
How will we ever be able to fulfill Christ’s command then?

We become what we receive.
But St. Peter,
it almost seems like the faithful
will become The Body of Christ,
will be The Body of Christ,
in spite of the Church
and not because of Her.

And today at churches all over the world
priests will wash the feet of the faithful.
This is another beautiful,
yet often misunderstood, ritual.
You were there, St. Peter.
You were there.
You didn’t want Jesus to wash your feet.
He had to explain it to you.
I think there are some who are still in need
of having this ritual explained to them.
It’s all about being a servant.
God bless you, Good St. Peter.
You dared to enter into the dialogue.
You understood what it all meant in the end,
even if you resisted at first.
Why is it, St. Peter,
that so many are afraid to enter into the dialogue?
Why is it
that so many refuse the role of servant?

San Pedro,
I know that it won’t happen today,
but I long to attend the sacred liturgy
where St. Louis Archbishop Raymond Burke
washes the feet of Fr. Marek Bozek.

San Pedro,
I know that it probably won’t happen today,
but I long to sing God’s praises during the liturgy
where Cardinal Bernard Law
washes the feet
of those who suffered sexual abuse
at the hands of priests of his diocese.

San Pedro,
I know that it probably won’t take place today,
or even in my lifetime,
but I long to witness the liturgy
where Pope Benedict XVI
washes the feet of
Leonardo Boff and Archbishop Emmanuel Milingo.

St. Peter,
I hope you don’t think I’m crossing any lines
by asking and suggesting some of these things.
The thing is,
I work hard at raising my son in the Catholic faith.
It hasn’t been easy,
but I think it’s very, very important.
Sadly, I don’t think there will be anyone left
to preside at Eucharist when he is my age.
And I don’t want my
yet-to-be-born grandchildren
to come into this world
without ever having had the opportunity
to know Jesus in the Eucharist.

Please know, Good St. Peter,
that I am not looking to cause trouble or problems.
I’m just stating to you in this letter
what’s crossed my mind this past week
as I reflect on the words of Jesus,
"Take this, all of you, and eat it. . ."
And so, I ask these questions.
I really would like to know
how you see it all,
from your heavenly perspective.
And then I’d like you to let me know
what I can do,
from my little place in history,
to help bring about God’s plan for us all.

Please say "hello"
To John Paul I for me.
Although his time as Pope was short,
he continues to inspire me.
Be sure to let him know
that his Letter to Pinochio is one of my favorites.
Especially, where he writes:
" My Pinocchio,
there are two famous sentences on the young people.
I recommend you the first one, by Lacodaire:
‘Have an opinion and assert it.’
The second one, by Clemenceau,
and I do not recommend it at all
‘He has no ideas,
but he defends them passionately."

I think John Paul I
is one of the reasons I write and think so much today.

Oh, and please say "hello"
to Oscar Romero for me.
I realize that the anniversary of his death
is coming up.
His words and actions
have served to inspire me more than any other.
Boy, could we use some bishops
like San Romero de América today.

And finally,
remember me to my abuelita.
My grandmother died on Good Friday, you know.
I hope you remembered the Mariachis
to welcome her home!

Thank you,
St. Peter,
for once again taking the time
to listen to all I have to ask,
for taking the time to really listen to me.
I promise that I will do the same for you.

Tu hermana en la lucha,
Rubi.

© 2008, Rubi Martinez-Bernat. All Rights Reserved.

First Letter to St. Peter

Behold The Wood of This Cross

Behold, the Wood of This Cross.

You know, church life can be really trying sometimes. Just because it is "church" doesn’t mean it will be without communication breakdowns. Just because it is "church" doesn’t mean that people and procedures will be respected. On the contrary, precisely because the church is human many unfavorable qualities can, and often do, abound.

The challenge for each of us is to bear this cross when it presents itself. We must be Simon to each other and help each other carry the cross. Indeed, we must challenge those who thrust the cross upon our shoulders, or on our friend’s shoulders, to begin with. And this challenge is one of made out love. Precisely because I love you as a sister/brother in Christ, I must challenge you sometimes.

The thing is, most of us are afraid of that confrontation. We fear losing the friendship. We fear being cast as the troublemaker. And so many end up whispering in the pews to those they would see as allies about what this one or that one did, about what this group or that group did. In the end, that does nothing but build up another cross.

Near as I can tell, Jesus Christ spent his ministry challenging folks. Wouldn’t it really be more Christ-like to offer the challenge? And to do so in love and respect? To really pray about what words to say, about how to lovingly offer the challenge? Instead, many stand crucified. Maybe we are nailed to the cross because we are afraid to open out mouths.

There are times when it is necessary to stand Silent Like the Lamb, Silent with The Lamb. However, there are other times when our silence perpetuates and exasperates the sin.

Now, I won’t detail on this electronic parchment why the San Damiano crucifix in the photo here is a cross for me to bear. It has nothing to do with the cross itself or the fact that it is San Damiano. It will suffice to say that this cross I bear is a cross due to communication breakdowns and disrespect.

Still, this cross, that is to say, the cross made of wood in this photo, has been part of our parish’s Lenten mission. As I reflect on it now, even the cross built of communication break downs and disrespect has been an integral part of this mission. At least it has been for me.

Even so, it has been difficult for me to enter into the spirit of this mission knowing that people I love deeply have been hurt.

The presenter of the mission told the story of St. Francis of Assisi and the wolf. Now, that is a story I’ve heard since childhood. I won’t detail it here, but you can Google it easy enough if you want to know more about.

The presenter spoke of the wolf being that wild animal we fear. St. Francis managed to tame that wolf, at least for himself.

And with that I realize that writing this blog is cathardic. I am not afraid of the wolf (confrontation/challenge). On the contrary, I think there are many who do not like me precisely because of that.

The leader of the mission also asked the question of those present, "Who are you?" I had no difficulty answering the question. With Judith, my girlfriend from the Old Testament, I rejoice knowing I am a daughter of God.

But, at least for me, knowing I am a daughter of God is not enough. I need to articulate for myself what role I play in this family.

I am the member of the family that agitates every now and again. I am the member of the family that rocks the boat a little every once in a while. And I do this so that my brothers and sisters don’t grow apathetic and complacent in their faith.

I am the member of the family who dares to say we must worhip at the cross and not worship the cross. I am the one who dares to say that sometimes people use ministry not as mission but as an attempt to monopolize the Kingdom, as if that were even possible. I am the member of the family that recognizes that sometimes people can use God as an alibi for not seeing and hearing the Crucified one in our midst.

Indeed, true converstion calls for nothing less that confrontation.

I am not the wolf. I am the member of the family who is not afraid of the wolves named "Challenge" and "Confrontation." And because of this, there are some who don’t like it, don’t like me. So be it. I grew up with these wolves fearing them tremendously. And now I embrace them lovingly.

I will not stop embracing these wolves simply because others don’t like it. What these folks don't like, indeed what they fear, is their own conversion.

And so there is confrontation. For if I stand in silence and watch as others are hurt then I am just as guilty. I don’t know about you, but I can’t own that.

Perhaps now, I can embrace this cross, that is to say, the one built of communication break down and disrespect. By embracing it I mean to say/speak out loud (or least, on this electronic parchment) that this communication breakdown exists and has caused damage to the Body of Christ. As a daughter of God I will always embrace The Crucified. I pray that by doing so and by speaking these words we can begin the process of healing and reconciliation for that is what embracing the wolf is all about.

Behold the Wood of the Cross.
Behold and Listen.
This Crucifix of San Damiano is speaking.
I only hope I am not the only one who can hear it.

Welcome to Liturgy House

Hello and welcome to Liturgy House. Here I hope to muse, reflect and perhaps even challenge others, especially those of us for whom worship, liturgy, the bible, church life and ministry are a part of the very fiber of our being.

Liturgy is life. What’s more, Life is Liturgy. Liturgy, with a capital "L", should reinforce and lock in time in a public way and before God that which already is (life). If a young couple is in love and they choose to spend the rest of their lives with each other (and they choose a church wedding) they make it a public and formal ritual by celebrating the sacrament. That is to say, through the liturgy. In a sense, they were already about "the work" of the wedding liturgy by developing their relationship. Their life is a liturgy, small "l".

This hypothetical wedding, and indeed all Worship and Liturgy, cannot and should not be planned in a fashion that is disconnected from the lives of the assembly who gather. Liturgy is more than just ritual. I repeat what I stated in the previous paragraph: Liturgy is Life & Life is Liturgy.

Sometimes, however, a worshiping community can be disconnected from what is going on in their own neighborhoods, in their own backyards. . . .indeed, disconnected from "the work" that is life. This disconnect can cause a disconnect in the work of Liturgy, a disconnect in the manner and fashion in which Liturgy is celebrated. Slowly but surely I’ll expound on these thoughts through "the work" of this blog.

And so, I have created this blog because there are so very many thoughts dancing around in my head. Oh, and somewhere along the way I’ll surely write about dancing in the Liturgy. And art and environment. And Music. And I’ll surely write on one of my favorite subjects: Cultural Adaptation!. . . .and before anyone starts writing and commenting and calling me a heretic, let say publically here and now that I can barely imagine a Dia Doce celebration without Matachin. For those of you who don’t know what Matachin is, what Dia Doce is, well. . .you’ll just need to trust me and check in on this blog every now and again!

Having said all of the above, let me simply state that it is sometimes just plain cathartic to write, to just release the words from one’s mind!

And when, in fact, we release those words and place them on parchment (albeit, electronic parchment), they often return to us with ideas from others. And so, the dialogue begins.

And isn’t liturgy celebrated best in dialogue, when all respond, participate?

Welcome to my house, to our house, to Liturgy house.
Mi Casa es Tu Casa.
Peace to all who enter here.

Espanol Aqui / Spanish Here

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About the photo: I have a particular devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe. Can you tell? I've visited the Basilica in Mexico City several times and even had the honor of serving with my friends as guest choir. Yes, we'll surely discuss popular piety here at Liturgy House!