Fall is consistently my busiest speaking-engagement time of the year. I receive the most requests during Advent where the obvious theme is preparing for the second coming of Jesus. It makes sense, then, that the change of seasons here in the beautiful Midwest begins to sharpen my spiritual focus and intensify my understanding of what it means to live more fully for Christ. I’ve been conditioned to this transformation over the past half dozen years.

Lately, with all that is happening on the world’s stage, the idea of preparing for Jesus’ return, and the Church’s teaching on prophets and prophecies, has truly become front and center for me.

But what does the Catholic Church teach about Prophets, prophecies and the second coming of Christ?
The Church recognizes that Old Testament prophets were given the dual task of teaching God’s people how they must change their ways to prepare for God’s coming into the world while these same prophets also revealed the future. Naturally, a prophet would be able to make statements about behavior that would have been seen as common sense – while other issuances would have been divinely inspired. Amos is such a prophet whose visions were considered divinely inspired. Prophets spoke the Truth without regard to their own popularity or appeal. They chastised God’s people and called them to repentance and change – a message far more important today than attempting to “read” events in which the fulfillment of Revelation can be predicted.

In the New Testament Jesus makes clear that the day and hour of judgment is known only to God while it also reveals signs that will precede this event. And while the Catholic Church has always remained clear in its teachings against participation in fortune telling, divination, tarot cards and any other attempts to “see” the future, we are nonetheless able to look at the signs as a way in which we keep the realization of judgment and Christ’s second coming in our hearts and minds.

Today, the Church recognizes saints such as St. John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila for the ways in which they shed light upon the mystical journey. Others, like John Paul II, have clearly helped “unpack” Scripture in a way that studying it and living it has become a reality for millions of Catholics.
These anointed souls help us better understand how to live as faithful Catholics and thus prepare for the second coming of Christ. While the Catholic Church does not give the name “prophet” to those who have shed light on the Christian path, we see the evolution of prophets to be those inspired individuals who share wisdom in an edifying and enlightening way.

Along with those who have been elevated by God to inspire us, the Church does speak to the end-time signs as given in the Book of Revelation – but in proper context of their significance for our daily living.
Many of the signs given in Revelation are quite difficult to understand which makes any real effort to determine a date for Jesus’ return unattainable, try as some might. For instance, identifying the anti-Christ has been a serious point of contention. Throughout history this moniker has been applied to many a tyrant – from Nero to Hitler to some in our recent past – and all seem to have been equally able to carry the label. Since one of the signs is the reign of the anti-Christ, who will be embraced and loved by many nations, not being able to affirm his or her identify makes recognizing this reign impossible.

On the other hand, preaching the Gospel to the ends of the earth seems clearly evident with the missionary efforts of both the Protestant and Catholic Churches along with the rapid development of computer and Internet technology. Consider the ways in which our own Vatican makes use of such popular sites as Twitter and Facebook. Indeed, our beloved Pope encourages us to use technology to spread the Word of Jesus to all.
The nearing of Christ’s second coming will also be witnessed by the return of Enoch and Elijah. Enoch walked with God – he was a friend of God in the same way that Moses was – and we read in Genesis 5:24 that God “took” Enoch with the implication being that he did not see death. Like Enoch, Elijah was spared the experience of death as he was whisked away into the heavens on a fiery chariot. Elijah also has the great distinction of being integral to the transfiguration of Christ as it was Moses and Elijah who stood with Jesus, on Mount Tabor, before Peter, James and John.

While the Catholic Church recognizes other signs of the Lord’s return, ultimately, we should see that the signs are God’s gift to us as they remind us of the fruit we are to bear for Him and His kingdom. As Catholics we live in hopeful anticipation of this time even while the world around us may seem to grow darker. We use the words of prophets, mystics, saints and popes to heighten our own interest in serving God over self; to live in a way that we welcome judgment; and, as a means to aid us in our desire to spend eternity with our Creator.

So, out of necessity, God made a distance between Himself and man so that man could know and love God but not be annihilated by that intimate face-to-face union. But my face you cannot see, for no man sees me and still lives. Exodus 33:20

These levels also represent different aspects of one’s journey towards God – almost an earthly purification of sorts as each portion of this journey represents a trait, which we as Catholics recognize as a virtue – a desired and sought after way to behave.

In addition to the references of such virtuous behavior as love, perseverance and surrender, each of these aspects are linked to a particular person who has represented these traits particularly well in his or her earthly life. For instance, Queen Esther and Kind David are considered worthy examples of our desires to serve God and implement His will. As such they become “conduits” for man to achieve those goals. As Catholics we would call these saints who have gone before us “intercessors.”

All in all the Jewish teaching very much reflects the Beatitude: Blessed are the clean of heart as they shall see God.

Indeed, we see that our journey constantly offers ways for our own purification and ultimate union with God. When we experience times of jealousy we can ask for the Grace needed to overcome those detrimental feelings and help us develop virtuous behavior. Anger, with God’s Grace, is turned into patience. Grace is able to turn any difficult situation into one of learning, growth and peace.

Grace is that gift from God that helps us in our quest to spend eternity with God, face-to-face. It is supernatural help, given for a time or a circumstance, which has nothing to do with our merits but has everything to do with God’s love and interest in our salvation.

Mary, the Jewish mother of Christ, is the dispenser of God’s Grace. She is the “go-between” that allows us to work towards that time where we will see God face-to-face. Not only does Mary dispense God’s Grace, but as she lives completely in His will, she dispenses it most accurately.

This means that if we are in a position or circumstance in which it is only through Grace that we will survive, she will most certainly act in our best interests. If, however, we don’t fully recognize her role as the “conduit” between God and man, we jeopardize the ways in which Grace is available.

While we don’t attribute “feelings” to God, we can say in our humanly way that He was grieved enough about our separation from Him to have sent His most beloved Son. But we ought to take careful note that God chose Mary to bring Salvation to the world. And while it is an old argument, it is still valid: God did not have to use Mary but did – this should make a difference to us in our understanding of her role in our lives.

We can and should recognize that it was through Mary that Salvation was given to the world and it is now through Mary that Grace is dispensed. God’s Grace is so immense that without Mary, we would be shattered by its abundance.

I circled the block once and, as I neared my own drive, felt inclined to circle the block again. There was no real reason to do this as neither my son, nor I, was enjoying this stroll.  Nonetheless I avoided walking up my driveway and continued on with a few steps that would change my life forever.

As I rounded the block a second time all my senses were focused on the heat, my overdue pregnancy, and my complaining son.  I chided myself for taking this additional trip around the block, not knowing what had every come over me.

Then, out of the blue, I heard a sweet voice say, “You look like you could use some lemonade.”  Although normally quite reserved this invitation seemed to hit a chord with me and I uncharacteristically accepted the kind offer.  The thought of resting my feet and letting my son out of the wagon was just what I needed.

As it turned out, the invitation came from that young mother who had been diligently planting her flowers.  We sat, laughed at the dilemmas of young motherhood, talked of the weather, and went our separate ways. 

Two days later I gave birth to my second son and, to my delight and surprise, received a beautiful bowl of fruit from the lady with whom I had shared a much-needed refreshing glass of lemonade.  With the fruit she also gave me a beautiful book about raising sons (she has three of them) which I have since enjoyed over and over again.

Make no mistake about it, the Spirit will move our life’s circumstances, and us, in priceless ways…Here is Pam’s side of the story:

It was late July and Pam’s flowers were long overdue for planting. She finally found the time to work on them and was bound and determined to get the job done.  The plants needed to get into the ground if they were going to survive.  If not, she would have to throw them all out. 

As she got to work she noticed a VERY pregnant lady walking in the street.  The lady was pulling a little boy in a red wagon.  It was quite hot and neither of them looked like they were enjoying the walk.  As they passed her driveway the Holy Spirit urged her to speak to the pregnant lady, to say “hello.”  She resisted the urge as the flower matter was quite pressing.  She really wanted to get this job done and enjoy the garden.  She didn’t want to lose the flowers.  And so she let the lady pass by.

Pam continued working industriously when she noticed the lady passing by a second time.  The little boy seemed more miserable than before and the lady looked like she was going to deliver at any moment.  This time the Holy Spirit was quite insistent.  “Speak to her!”  And so Pam put her trowel down, looked up and said, “You look like you could use some lemonade.” 

And from those inclinations, both hers to offer lemonade and mine to take a second walk around the block, God has forged a most beautiful friendship: a friendship that has lasted tweny years and several moves.  A friendship that now sees children graduating from college, getting married, and having children of their own.  A truly blessed friendship orchestrated by the Holy Spirit.

Last year, my oldest son spent the year living in a frat house. Along with myself, the health department and Fire Marshall were none too pleased with the living conditions.

This year, when both boys moved into their respective apartments on campus, the dirty frat house became the standard of cleanliness to which the apartments were compared. “Well, it’s better than the frat house,” became my husband’s response to dusty floors and grimy sinks. And he was right. The frat house made everything it was compared to look cleaner and brighter because there was a new, lower standard of cleanliness in our lives.

Confession

I made an appointment with the priest last week to go to confession. Confession is one of the Sacraments that many Catholics, including myself, don’t embrace as much as we should.

I couldn’t help but think of the frat house when I made that appointment. It reminded me that many of us have lowered our standards to such a degree that we don’t consider ourselves “sinners.” We don’t feel we need confession because, as Monica Cops writes in All Things Girl: Truth for Teens :

Many people might say: “But I didn’t kill anybody, so why do I need to go to confession? I’m a good person, I help my neighbor, and I’m honest and kind.” This may all be true; but there is more to take into consideration than just those points.

Monica goes on to write an Examination of Conscience for teens based upon the Ten Commandments. It occurred to me that what Monica has done for teens (and for adults who thumb through the book) is sort of what the health department did for the frat house: went through a list of items that were either able to be checked and considered “okay” or weren’t able to be checked and needed “cleaning.”

Chaput

Archbishop Charles Chaput, speaking before an audience in Sydney, Australia where the topic was “Mission Possible: This Double Life Will Self-Destruct,” has warned of an apathy towards our own behaviors and the subsequent “reinventing of Christ.” The Archbishop said:

We can’t live a half-way Christianity. The organizers of tonight’s event were right [those who named it ‘Mission Possible: This Double Life Will Self-Destruct’]. Every double life will inevitably self-destruct. The question then becomes: How are we going to live in this world? How can we lead a Christian life in a secular age? We can’t really answer that question until we get some things straight about what it means to be a Christian. And that means first getting some things straight about Jesus Christ.

This is another one of the by-products of our secular age: we don’t really quite know what to think about Jesus anymore.

A few years before he became Pope Benedict XVI, then-Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger wrote something that is unfortunately very true. He wrote: "Today in broad circles, even among believers, an image has prevailed of a Jesus who demands nothing, never scolds, who accepts everyone and everything, who no longer does anything but affirm us. . . . The figure is transformed from the ‘Lord’ (a word that is avoided) into a man who is nothing more than the advocate of all men."

We all know people — friends or family members or both — who think about Jesus in these terms. It’s hard to avoid. Our culture has given Jesus a make-over. We’ve remade him in the image and likeness of secular compassion. Today he’s not the Lord, the Son of God, but more like an enlightened humanist nice guy.

Essentially, it comes down to the fact that we have applied secular standards of “cleanliness” to our daily lives and have forgotten that there are eternal consequences. We’ve warmed up to Christ in a way that we no longer see Him as judge but simply as “Mr. Nice Guy.” We consider ourselves sin-free because compared to some of the really bad things that people do, well, we’re fine!

The Way It All Comes Together

I admit that I was surprised and saddened at how many parents shrugged their shoulders and said, “That’s a frat house for ya!” They were willing to let their sons live in squalor by succumbing to the lame argument that this was “just how young guys lived.” That somehow that made it acceptable.

I realize that this is exactly what many of us have done with our own actions as well. Just as Monica points out, we say we haven’t murdered anyone and that we’ve been kind to our neighbors so surely we are “okay” with God and with the world when, in reality, we ought to be very cautious about this complacency. The possibility for our own transformation vanishes.

But consider the frat house. Commitment and hard work changed the frat house. What was considered unlivable became livable. What once couldn’t pass inspection soon passed inspection with flying colors. However, this transformation required a respect of authority, a willingness to listen to what needed to be done and some serious follow-through.

In lowering our spiritual standards, we jeopardize our eternal souls. Instead of being aware and concerned, we become contented and gullible. We give way to a false sense of security that says Jesus is “a great guy” with nary a judgmental bone in His body. In making Him ‘friend’ we have forgotten that He is also judge and jury and that He will be dividing the flock– sending some to the right and others to the left.

We’ve heard it said that people only rise to the lowest expectation made of them and yet we never see it as applying to us, individually. But, like the frat house experience, I can assure you that each and every one of us easily falls into this way of thinking.

If you wonder if this lower standard is applicable in your life, ask yourself one question: When was the last time I was at confession?

And it is a behavior that we ought to be cautious of avoiding.

There is, apparently, a constant human need to elevate people and hold them in high regard. The recent election and media infatuation with Obama is such a perfect example of this frailty that afflicts us all. People are looking for, are always looking for, someone who they can idolize and worship – someone they can read all about and adore. Someone they can build up and make larger than life.

Sadly, Catholics are not immune to this phenomenon. There are Catholic “personalities” who enjoy the perks and privileges that come with their notoriety and fame. When Catholics forget that God is status-neutral (to paraphrase the popular political term: deficit-neutral) they are giving – erroneously – favoritism in ways that Scripture warns us to guard against (James 2:2-4 and James 2:5-9 to mention just a few).

Time spent surfing the net reading the latest news on Jackson’s autopsy to the point of addiction needs to be recognized and addressed. If you’ve never read John Paul II’s last will and testament, this might be a very good time to do just that. You will shed tears at his humble spirit.

When the elders of the Jewish people approached Samuel and asked for a king, Samuel was disappointed. However, he brought their request to God who responded, “Grant the people’s every request. It is not you they reject, they are rejecting me as their king.”

I don’t know if the people realized that this was how their request for a king was going to be interpreted by God, but that is exactly how it was taken. Similarly, I don’t believe most of us are aware of the ways in which we give our time to things that do not benefit us in the long run – and how that same time should have been given to God.

I couldn’t help but think, over these past few weeks since the death of Michael Jackson, how times have not changed in the course of human history. We continue to reject God in ever-increasing ways and give our worship and praise to mere mortals. Knowing that we have a penchant for such behavior, it makes sense that Sacred Scripture is filled with reminders that this is not how we ought to view others.

Let’s face it, the public and the media have been so quick to immortalize Jackson that all have lost sight of the fact that he was no different than any of us. He had gifts and talents just as we all have gifts and talents. God did not regard him any more than God has regard for each of us.

It is our call as Catholics to pray for the Jackson family just as we would pray for any other family in this time of sadness and grief; but, we should not get caught up in the hype and hoopla meant to separate Michael Jackson in a way that signifies he was worthy for adulation because of the gifts and talents that God gave him.

May Michael Jackson, and all the souls of the dearly departed, rest in peace.

I’m guessing I’m no different than most people nowadays.

This morning, as I perused the list of senders, I became painfully aware that none really represented me, Cheryl Dickow, very well. I feel like a “normal,” “regular” citizen and yet as I read through different snippets of what was in my “in” box, I realized that I don’t actually belong in any one particular group nor am I really represented by one any voice “out there.”  I don’t seem to fit anywhere.

And that bothers me.  Like all people, I want to belong.

It made me ask myself, “Who am I?”

First and foremost, I’m Catholic.  And with the number of well-known Catholics now on the world’s stage you would think I could make that statement with great honor and enthusiasm.  But I cannot.  You’d think that there wouldn’t be enough time in the day for me to read all the great and wonderful things that my Catholic brothers and sisters are doing in the political arena.  Unfortunately, that isn’t the case either. I cringe at the fact that the Vice President of the United States and the Speaker of the House wear their Catholic badge right next to their pro-abort badge for all to see.

I even find it difficult to defend such popular Catholic television personalities as Bill O’Riley of Fox Network News fame.  I want to be proud of his work but can’t get over how rude he is to so many people.  I’m not sure I’ve ever heard a guest on O’Riley being allowed to finish a sentence.  If I had a talk show I would definitely try to show that Catholics understand and practice such virtuous behavior as generosity of spirit – forgetting about self — or charity towards others.

I say that I am pro-life and faithful to the Magisterium.  I guess I had always assumed that was part and parcel of being Catholic but the Notre Dame debacle firmly and finally put that naïve belief to rest.  In fact, I was surprised at how many friends and family staunchly supported the ND decision with some even going as far as to tell me I ought to “get with the times.”

I cook fairly well (just don’t ask me to make rice) but don’t bake or sew.  It isn’t that I don’t try because I do try, with my whole heart. Baking just doesn’t happen for me.

Sewing is right up there with baking.  Halloween was, by far, the day I dreaded most when my boys were young.  While all the other mothers were busy sewing and baking – because this is biggest baking/sewing holiday of all — I was sweating about the cookies I was supposed to be making for the class party and the costumes that the boys would be wearing.  One year stands out particularly well for me.

After a month of stress and worry I decided that I could make a mummy costume for my son.  I figured I would just take a really large sheet and rip it into strips and wrap my son in the strips of cloth.  Needless to say I did not consider how the strips would stay up – with gravity and all and me not being a sewer – and on my son.  I cleverly used glue, safety pins and rope. I think he was able to make it to two houses before the entire costume was around his ankles.  I encouraged him that he now had a “true” mummy look and he persevered collecting his candy, no doubt among the stares of other “sewing” moms.

I share all this to say that when someone sent me a link to a sewing, baking, blogging Catholic mom, I had no interest.  The blog wasn’t about helping me become a sewer or baker but mostly how great she was — that I didn’t need.

Did I mention that I am also middle-aged?  Well, that assumes I’ll live to be around 102.  I earned my Master’s Degree in my early 40s and thought, for sure, that between my experience in the classroom and my degree in education I would be ripe for picking as I attempted to find a public school job.  I did land one interview and can remember being surrounded by young, inexperienced counterparts.  Where they were bubbly and full of the “right” answers, I was peaceful because I knew teaching was what I really wanted to do — having done it for a dozen years — and I was armed with a few of the “real” answers.  I wasn’t intimidated by the sheer numbers of young applicants because I knew there were many openings and was confident that any administrator would see the value of a combination of that fresh, new blood mixed in with a little of my experience.  After all, I wasn’t quite ready for Geritol – that’s an iron supplement my grandma used to take.

Anyhow, not one of those positions went to me – or anyone who had ever taught.  Every position was filled with a fresh face right out of college. Youth really does trump experience.  Age discrimination is alive and well and I did my best to offer up my disappointment. Two years later, however, the entire staff that had been hired that fateful day was on maternity leave.  The principal, who originally prided herself on her stable of young teachers, was made frantic by the sheer demands of half her teachers being out for the major part of the school year.

I went to confession for the glee that brought to my heart.

I’m sort of eco-green but not “green” enough; I am sure, to actually be saving the planet.  A plastic bottle has been known to make its way into my trash bin instead of my recycling bin and I will always purchase the less expensive laundry detergent, regardless of how many suds it produces.

Did I mention that I don’t love animals?  Well, I love them as God’s creatures but not as pets.  I know this may be cause for alarm for many people but I’ve just never warmed up to the idea of animals in my home.  My boys kept me busy enough.  Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean I’m not cleaning up “goodies” left on my lawn by neighboring pets – but don’t get me started on that.

Interestingly, one of the public school interview questions was, no kidding, “You have a student whose dog has died.  What do you do?”  Well, as I do my best to practice Catholic virtues such as kindness and compassion I gave an honest answer but it may not have been the “right” one. Maybe that’s why I didn’t get the job.  Who knows?

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t understand other people’s love for their animals which I know are often a very real member of their family; it’s just that I’ve never had a pet.  Once, when my youngest son was a baby, I was attacked by a dog while I held my son in my arms and that is something that I’ve never, ever gotten over.

Anyhow, so here I am, a middle-aged pro-life, semi-green Catholic woman believing in the authority of the Magisterium who doesn’t bake or sew and isn’t a pet lover.  I am busy every morning deleting emails that can’t possibly be meant for me and wondering where I belong.

Anybody wanna start a group?

Jewish mysticism, which dates back to biblical times, has always been a response to that personal quest. Along the way, it is known to have flourished during different times including — in northern Spain — in the twelfth century where, it is interesting to note, St. Teresa of Avila would eventually experience her own inner mystical conversion in the 1500s and ultimately become, in 1970, the first female doctor of the Church.

The study and practice of Jewish mysticism — known to be uniquely powerful — was originally forbidden unless a Jewish male was at least 40 years old. This was considered an age where he would have had enough y ears of Torah study upon which to be firmly grounded in faith since mysticism has a both the potential for the development of good as well as the unleashing of evil.

The Catholic Church affirms this dual possibility of mysticism and approaches the subject of mysticism with caution. She warns against pseudo-mystics as well as the formation of doctrines, such as pantheism, in which false teachings are perpetuated under the guise of mysticism. To safeguard against such corruptions, the Church relies upon the works of such Catholic mystics as Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross to help guide the faithful through the different phases towards Divine union.

This paradox of exposing oneself to good or evil in spiritual practices is easy to understand when you consider the many horrors that have occurred, in our lifetime and in the history of civilization, in the name of “God.” This has the potential to happen when ego, if not put fully aside, becomes empowered in selfish and delusional ways. In St. Teresa’s writings on her mystical experiences, her humble attitude towards self is ever-apparent. Early Jewish rabbis would have clearly understood that human ego has a way of polluting the heart. What is meant for our good can bring us harm.

Sadly, mysticism today is often misunderstood and has recently been linked with new-age thinkers as a result of the revelation that Madonna (the pop icon and not the Blessed Mother) practices teachings from the Kabbalah, one of the earlier known works on Jewish mysticism.

Kabbalah (which literally means “tradition” but connotes a “handing down of tradition”), is a school of thought in regards to contemplative prayer and union with God. Studying Elijah was a central point of early Jewish mystics. Reference to the “Chamber” experience appears in Jewish mysticism long before St. Teresa of Avila’s own experience, as shared in Interior Castles .

St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross embarked upon their mystical journeys in the 16^th century. And as Kabbalah had its beginnings in Spain a few hundred years before the lives of both of these Catholic mystics, there has always been speculation of a connection between those mystical teachings and the spiritual journeys of Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross.

Certainly, St. Augustine’s own 4^th century journey, literally and figuratively, speaks volumes about man’s interest to heed God’s call for intimacy in the ways brought about by contemplative prayer and the practice of mysticism.

It is always imperative to remember that St. Teresa of Avila called humility “truth,” recognizing it as the required approach for such a transforming spiritual experience. Think Galatians 2:20, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is now no longer I that live, but Christ lives in me.”

Does this mean, however, that all who attempt or pursue the mystical experiences of Augustine, Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross are successful? No, it doesn’t. In fact, the Catholic Church specifically recognizes that while it is a natural desire for man to search for such a connection with the Divine, the graces needed to accomplish this are given to just a few souls. That being said, the idea that it is both a possibility, and a desirable one at that, makes us search out the meaning of mysticism in our daily lives.

So what is mysticism, really?

Simply put, mysticism is the soul’s desire to be in union with God; it is the contemplative practice in which this goal can be attained. For most of us, the journey towards that experience is life-long and while often unfilled (to the degree in which such Saints as Teresa experienced union with God which is called “spiritual marriage”), it is still satisfying. That is because God rewards those who persevere and there are a great many joys inherent in the pursuit.

The day-to-day practice of contemplative prayer creates a peaceful existence for one’s soul. It is the constant giving of self, and the giving over of one’s will to the will of God, that will bear spiritual fruit. Contemplative prayer, of which the Catechism of the Catholic Church says is an “intense” time of prayer (#2714), the “simplest expression of the mystery of prayer” (#2713) and a “gaze of faith, fixed on Jesus” (#2715) is the form of prayer used by mystics – modern day and those in our Church’s history.

Catholics have always understood that the earthy passage “matters” and that salvation, given through the grace and mercy of God through His Son, can be lost (Romans 2:2-8, Ephesians 2:8-10, James 2:14-26). Just so, the development of the soul does not occur on its own but does so with a daily commitment to prayer and the pursuit of intimacy with the Creator. Certainly we can also agree that the conscience cannot rightly form on its own. All these things — maintaining, or keeping, the gift of salvation as well as development of the soul and conscience — require an “effort” on our part. The Catechism states that while we may not always be able to spend time in meditation, we are always able to enter into the inner prayer of contemplation (#2710).

Throughout Church history — from Pope Gregory I to Blessed Henry Suso and beyond — Catholic mystics have given examples of ways in which our soul’s longing to connect with God can be fulfilled. Contemplative prayer and the ways of the mystics before us are just a few of the tools we are able to use in answering our call to know, love and serve God in this life and be happy with Him in the next (Baltimore Catechism ).

Cleaning was out of the picture but it was, as I’ve mentioned, quite rainy and I was 50 so it made sense that my body — previously known to have predicted a rainfall here and there due to bursitis — was responding to the damp weather in a new and unpleasant way.

Then, by the end of the week, my husband was no longer buying into my self-diagnosis. The pounding in my head was so intense that I couldn’t bend over lest it would surely explode. For a few days I couldn’t even lift my head off the pillow as a 103 temp had its way with me.

By the time my husband took me to the doctor I was ravaged by the flu (no, not swine). I had pushed myself just enough to make matters worse as I continued to buy into my own self-diagnosis of rain and age. I had refused to recognize things that didn’t fit with my diagnosis and paid the price.

Even now, as I slowly recover, I can see where it all fell apart, and I can’t help but think how very common my mistake is in the general population.

On the one hand, self-diagnosis can be a good tool — whether for physical or spiritual awareness. It can allow us to gather information about ourselves that only we are privy to because it is intimate and deeply personal first-hand knowledge. Other than our Creator, only we know what exists in the depths of our hearts or in the day-to-day workings of our bodies. One of the best tools for spiritual self-diagnosis is a daily examination of conscience. But even this can only produce results if we are able and willing to render an honest answer to each question.

Which means that self-diagnosis can also be devastating — whether for physical or spiritual awareness. That is because the key to success is having an objective frame of mind — something which very few of us really have in regards to ourselves. Additionally, self-diagnosis must also fall under some sort of authority. For instance, I can decide it is rain and age but only if I have some medical guidelines that such a combination can produce the results of body aches, sensitive skin, headaches, and high temperatures. Sadly, we are able to talk ourselves into just about anything in wanting to make a case for our view, opinion, or perspective — regardless of what the medical or spiritual experts may say.

During my bout with the flu I was doing my best to watch the Notre Dame commencement. I don’t know what I expected to see but I braced for the worst. Drifting in and out of consciousness, I remember thinking how proud Father Jenkins was of this event. He seemed a bit smug but I thought anyone who was able to walk and talk at the same time was just mocking my condition. His smugness, I decided, was all in my head.

Finally, not able to keep my eyes open any longer, I fell fast asleep. My last cohesive thought that day was that Father Jenkins had been self-diagnosing far too long, not willing to recognize authority. I completely recognized the symptoms.

Most people are familiar with the ways in which the Matriarchs (Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, and Leah) and Patriarchs (Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph) set the stage from which the three monotheistic faiths emerged.  However, few people are aware of the ways in which these same Matriarchs and Patriarchs are understood to have created the “connections” between God in heaven and His people on earth below.  Indeed, delving into the teachings of the Jewish faith we find that these same people who forged a relationship with the one, true God while on earth are also the same people who became, based upon their calling, the first heavenly “intercessors” with specific areas of “expertise.”

In a previous Jewish roots column I examined the ways the Jewish faith gives us both written and oral law.  It is in the exegesis of Torah that the ways in which the Matriarchs and Patriarchs opened up the heavens for us are made known.  A Catholic can easily identify the importance of such supporting documents of the Torah — i.e. Talmud, Mishnah, and various authoritative rabbinical writings — when he or she recognizes our own faith’s reliance on such critical documents as Humanae Vitae, Mulieris Dignitatem, and so many of the other great works of our popes.  Indeed, these writings reflect papal efforts to clarify Scripture and to make known the ways God’s Word is to be understood and followed.  When we read such scholarly works we can more clearly see how the teachings of our faith — and choosing to follow them or not — ultimately impacts our lives.

Torah describes Abraham’s circumcision and healing in the heat of the day where, even in the midst of his own pain, he cared for travelling strangers who appeared at his tent.  It is then extrapolated and taught by rabbinic scholars that Abraham became the intercessor for the times in our lives when we need to exhibit more mercy, kindness, and generosity towards others.

Likewise, Sarah was known to have been a great convertor of her pagan neighbors to the monotheistic faith of Judaism.  In that way she served God while on earth but also became an intercessor for the times in our lives when we are called to bear witness to God.  Sarah can be called upon to help us gain strength and courage in situations where being a witness is neither easy nor popular because she was given the same strength and courage in similar circumstances.  Sarah would also be an intercessor for a woman who is trying to get pregnant as she, herself, experienced many years of being barren.

Catholics have always had a great reliance on the angels and saints.  The Catechism teaches that intercession can and should be an integral part of our daily lives.  The Lord has given us great resources in the way in which saints have special gifts that help us in our earthly journey. CCC #2683 states:

The witnesses who have preceded us into the kingdom, especially those whom the Church recognizes as saints, share in the living tradition of prayer by the example of their lives, the transmission of their writings, and their prayer today (emphasis mine).  They contemplate God, praise him and constantly care for those whom they have left on earth.  When they entered into the joy of their Master, they were “put in charge of many things.” Their intercession is their most exalted service to God’s plan.  We can and should ask them to intercede for us and for the whole world.

The Virgin Mother, one of our most cherished intercessors, would have known the teachings of her Jewish faith and may well have called upon the intercession of the Matriarchs and Patriarchs to give her strength as her heart was pierced, just as Simon had foretold.  When we, as Catholics, ask Mary to “pray for us now and at the hour of our death” we are asking for the intercession of our Jewish mother whose own faith would have given her the same sort of intercessory love, strength, and compassion that she now gives.

Relying on the intercession of Mary — and the great cloud of witnesses -– is beautifully and theologically rooted in the Jewish faith.

Of all the things that made my list, my mother’s most abhorrent offense was the way she always referred to “other people.”  As a self-centered, “it’s all about me” teenager, I could not have cared less about “other people.”  Who were these “other people” and why should they make a difference in my life?

And yet my mother would not give it up.

“Cheryl, if you want to stop and talk while walking on the sidewalk,” she would say, “step off to the side so that other people can get by.”

The sidewalk rule also applied to escalators and elevators.  “Cheryl, do not stop right in front of the elevator’s open doors!  Move off to the side and decide where you are going so that other people can get by.”

In a store she would say, “Cheryl, don’t mess up that pile of t-shirts!  Other people will want to look through and will never be able to find their size if you make such a mess.”

At the library she would remind me that other people needed to get into the card file — yes I’m that old! — and that I ought to hurry up and find what I was looking for.

When I became a teenaged driver, my mother had loads of new reasons for me to be concerned about other people.  “Make sure you give enough space between yourself and other cars in case other people want to get in your lane.”

Clearly, my mother cared about other people more than she cared about me.  I can well remember mixed feelings of sadness and anger at this thought.  I so desperately wanted to be selfish and care only about myself and all the while she wanted me to be aware of, and apparently care about, “other people.”  I felt so betrayed and although I never actively thought about having children of my own, I was convinced that should I ever have them, I would blaze my own mothering trails.  I would never put “other people” before my own children.

Then, as so often happens, there came a time when I was, officially, my mother.  Her concerns for other people became my concerns.  Her desire to care about the needs of others became my cares.  Her words to me and my sisters became my words to my sons and my students.

As Mother’s Day draws near, I realize that I am now of an age where my memories are softer and sweeter.  Where once my frustration about my mother’s nagging intent that I care about other people drove me crazy, I am now reminded of my heavenly mother’s concern for other people, as well.  And I am grateful that my mother persevered in her interest that I pull myself through the selfish teen years to become a caring woman and mother myself.

I have always been amazed at the idea that Mary could have knowingly given her Son so that we — the “other people” — could have salvation. She did not put her own self, or her Son’s interest, first.  She knew that other people needed Him and she loved, raised, and nurtured Him in such a way that when the time came, He gave Himself for us — those often nasty “other people.”

He, who knew no sin, took on ours.  While I realize that this was the reason for the Incarnation, I can’t help but appreciate that God would have been fully aware of the ways Mary’s behavior as a mother would have lent itself well to Christ’s journey and purpose.

Mother’s Day is a day when we celebrate the beauty and love that is motherhood.  We put aside our lists and our frustrations and simply allow ourselves to be filled with love for our mothers — knowing that God chose them specifically for us and our journeys.

May, fittingly, is the month we celebrate the motherhood of Mary, whose own selflessness causes us all, for at least one brief moment, to really consider ways we ought to care about other people.

Happy Mother’s Day!