Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Finding God

Hello, Reader!

On this Labor Day, 2013, I put out the first of my occasional blogs. My umbrella for this series is the work of the Sisters of Saint Joseph of Rochester.
It’s our hope that you and I, all of us, find fresh wind in our sails, as we enter the fall season in the company of our God.

            Some of these pieces will be short, others a little longer but all with our daily relationship with God in mind. We may find that God feels elusive to us, as we are absorbed with the other in our lives.

The other person :

Having lunch with A and spending most of the time on a cell phone with B. Who is the other?

             The old man with the cane in the city square of Siena couldn’t cross over to the shops easily.  It was a combination of his disabilities (like the paralyzed man at the pool of Bethsaida) and the ferocity of the packed populace around the square in the spirit of the horse race called Il Palio. Ten minutes elapsed.  Then, as I watched from a distance, two young people noticed this hesitant old man and escorted him with delightful flourish. It made the old man smile. Others, too.  Me, too.  God was in the city square of Siena.

            Throughout his ministry, Jesus grew to be aware of the other: the person in the crowd, the child, the foreigner, the stranger within his very own disciples.

            Is the other place the fleshpots of Egypt or a big new world where grace is valued and laughter is abundant?

            Is the other time the way we always did it? Or is the other time when God saw me through and washed me with newness?

            Is the other in my present moment? In this person? This place? This time?
The turn into September is, for us, a new season, a new day, and perhaps, a graced new look at the other.  A new awareness of our God.

            Lord, Jesus,
            I believe You love me, and
            You are lover of the other as well.
            Let  me be conscious of the other,
            however the unexpected other comes to me.
            There, may I find you anew.              

~By Joan Sobala, SSJ