News - March 2019 RSS Feed

Drew and I had invited friends over for dinner; it turned out to be the day Muslims praying in Christchurch were murdered. One guest posed the question: is there a way to stop such shootings?

If my husband’s grandmother had even been to Nashville, it was many, many years before the birth of her great grandson. When she was brought to Nashville, via I-40, to see this new member of the family, she did not enjoy the ride. “It’s boring on a highway. I missed coming through all those little towns,” she said. Her words came back to me as I considered my life’s journey. For many years, I was on a highway that had been laid down for me by my family and my culture. I was expected to go to college, get married, have children, be a good citizen, go to church on Sunday, donate to a worthwhile charity and, at some point, die peaceably. I was to steer the car of my life down this well-paved highway. Fortunately I ended up in a ditch where I learned that life would be more of an adventure if I turned over the steering wheel, if I made a decision to “turn my will and my life over to the care of God.” As I was helped out of that ditch, I learned about the deadening effects of self-will and of living my life according to the expectations of other people. Once off the traffic-congested high way, I met others who had had car trouble—or drug trouble, or family troubles, really all kinds of troubles. Together we are finding a way Home via the backroads—which, it turns out. Are much more interesting.

Holding my three year old daughter on my hip, I was facing a friend, exchanging pleasantries, when two tiny hands gripped my chin and twisted my head around so that I was looking at her—my beloved child. “Pay attention to me,” she said. Lent invites us to turn our heads toward the One Who Loves and to pay attention. Rather like a friend who always has helpful advice, the church offers us three steps for turning our heads—or repenting. First we are to go into a desert (The church loves speaking metaphorically!) where we can see our lives in brighter, more searing, light. In silence, in solitude, we are to turn inward and examine our thoughts, feelings, actions. The heat of the desert forces us to notice what is weighing us down. What are we carrying through life that is not useful or humane—resentment? prejudices? fears? Whatever is no longer serving us or others well, we seek to let it go. Finally, with clearer vision, with less weighing on our minds and hearts, we yield to the loving hand twisting our heads to see eyes that love us, eyes that need our love. It is worthwhile to take these steps in order. In the silence of prayer, may you find the grace to see. In the discipline of fasting, may you find freedom to let go. May Lent enable you to give and to receive whatever alms are need in order that “we may all be One.”

Click here for the link to our Lenten flyer listing all of the liturgies and events coming up.

A 40 Days for Life event has been planned for Nashville for 40 days this Lent beginning on Ash Wednesday.The remaining event for this Lent is Stations of the Cross Sunday, April 14, 2019 3pm Planned Parenthood

The 2019 Bishop's Annual Appeal for Ministries is in progress. You'll find envelopes in the pews to use to make your pledge. Please help our diocesan ministries to bring Christ's love and mercy to the people of Middle Tennessee.

I feel I have been very fortunate in life. I was born into a family that wanted me and could afford another child. I grew up roaming in wild spaces and spent time in Pioneer Park where there were tennis courts, a pool, a skating rink in the winter. My neighborhood was safe, the schools I walked to were good.  There were also aspects of my life that could be considered less than fortunate. My family went around and around on the merry-go-round of alcoholism before ways to recover from this addictive disease were well known. I was a puny, shy child who was encouraged to be obedient, so I tended to be afraid of risks, to avoid conflicts. I had a very disillusioning experience at a relatively early age.  Now, as I enter my “golden years,” I am finding value and blessings in all of these experiences. Going through the pain of the less-than-happy events taught me things that I would not have learned otherwise - how to seek help, how to find the courage to change, how to forgive.  Our tradition, it seems to me, offers a blueprint for accepting the fortunate and less than fortunate aspects of life. The rosary leads us through joyful mysteries - those parts of life for which it is easy to be grateful. Then it leads us through sorrowful mysteries - which seem to occur in all human lives. The rosary ends by commending us to see the glorious mystery  of life: that grace can be found in all of life’s ups and downs.