Life Has Gone to the Dogs

Yesterday, August 26, was National Dog Day. It sounds like another made up celebration to me, but that’s ok. I don’t mind. We need things to celebrate these days. And I surely didn’t mind celebrating National Peach Pie Day this past Monday!

        If a person meets me for the first time, chances are I will tell you about my little dogs, Murphy and Trudy. While not with me now at the monastery, the two of them have been my faithful friends for fifteen and ten years. I took care of them and they took care of me. They “helped” take care of me after surgeries refusing to leave my side. They instinctively knew I needed attention when I was sad, were always willing to enjoy a walk, and traveled to the University of Notre Dame several times to visit a friend (of course, Murphy is an Irish fan!). We were a pack. AND they get super excited for me doing nothing more than showing up. Unconditional love is grand!
       
       So why is something ‘going to the dogs” an idiom with a negative connotation? A little research traces this back to ancient China. City walls not only kept out the enemy, but also kept out the dogs which were banished by law. As garbage was dumped over the walls, the dogs managed to survive. But their survival depended on more than just food. For a dog, survival is about belonging to a pack. And as the packs increased, they dominated the lands beyond the walls. When criminals were shown the door out of the city, they quite literally had gone to the dogs and to a much less desirable life.           
       Psalm 59:14-15 compares our foes to dogs; “Each evening they come back, howling like dogs and prowling about the city. They roam about for food, and growl if they do not get their fill.” The psalm continues to sing praises to God, our fortress, who shows us steadfast love. The fortress provides safety--even from a vicious pack of dogs (Occasionally, I hear the coyotes running the hillside at night. Blood-chilling!). Dogs were not looked upon highly in biblical times.

       So, some questions I am thinking about: Which side of the wall am I on today? Is my pack surviving or is it thriving? Am I relying on God, my fortress, or trying to be the lone wolf so to speak?
       Murphy and Trudy give me some answers. Stay with the pack. Put faith in the one who takes care of you. And that one is excited when I just show up. Unconditional love. Maybe I have gone to the dogs!

          Sr. Eileen O'Connell, OSB

 

New Political Conventions?

It is Wednesday afternoon. Two days of the Democratic National Conference have become part of history. I was looking forward to the important days of both national parties, but I wanted them as I remembered them. The virus, however, took over and the large gathering was not to be.   Going into these days I knew they would be different and so I was expecting disappointment. There would be no enthusiastic and at times rowdy behavior. I was going to miss that abandonment, the party effect, the costumes, the comedic drama of the Roll Call.From the time I was in my teens the Roll Call was a favorite.

This year I heard the speeches uninterrupted by cheering and occasional disruptive objections. I could concentrate on the content, reflect and make my own yeas and nays. It was refreshing.The Roll Call turned out to be a beautiful pageant, showcasing our variety of land and of people. Respect was in the air. I experienced joy in my heart.It was beautiful.

The formats of the conventions used this year may become the new normal. From what I have seen I would like that. Electing a president and a vice-president for the USA is serious business as are the more local elections. It behooves each of us to make our preparations to vote and then to follow through.

Sr. Mary Rabe, OSB

Hope

          When I went to college, I had to take a couple of fine art classes.The choices were between drama, music or art.  I knew drama or music would not be my best venture so I chose art.  I must

say that I actually enjoyed the class and wound up getting an A in it! (The teacher graded on where we were at the beginning of class and where we progressed by the end of the class). I had nowhere  to go but up.

          I had to hope that I would succeed in Art. In talking with my sister, I remember saying, “Do you remember I think our grandfather was artistic maybe it is in the genes.” My Sister quickly replied that all her jeans were in the wash! What is this memory teaching me at this particular time?

          It is now August and we are months into the COVID 19 pandemic with no end in sight. We are on a new venture. e have safety choices to make, will we choose wisely?  Are we able to find our

best method of coping?  We question and pray for a favorable outcome.  Perhaps like my art class, we must not give up hope. Perhaps in persevering, we will discover our right brain in adjusting to new situations. The virtue of hope will not disappoint us and hopefully it will lead us closer to God, whose genes we all possess.

                                Sr. Barbara Woeste, OSB

Center Down

         Last week we had the privilege of having our annual retreat. This year our director was Fr. Bill Cleves, pastor of Holy Spirit parish in Newport, KY. He was and the retreat was amazing. 

          Fr. Bill is a scholar whose knowledge of Hebrew and Greek gives him an understanding of Scripture which he passed on to us each day. He gave us new perspectives on familiar stories and parables. Knowing the language and culture of Biblical times added so much to our own reflections. Even the titles of his talks were thought provoking; for example, the Good Samaritan—We lie by the side of the road, bleeding and helpless; the Prodigal Son—Every saint has a past; every sinner has a future; Deuteronomy 32:10-18—How did we wind up in the desert?           

         Besides being a scholar Fr. Bill is truly pastoral and relates the Scripture to our everyday lives, especially in this time of the pandemic. He shared a poem by Lynn Ungar http://www.lynnungar.com/poems/pandemic/whose message was to view the pandemic as a time of Sabbath, a time to cease from activities, a time to “center down”.

          I have had frustrations with the suspension of normal activities and the poem and the entire retreat helped me see these changes in a different and more life-giving light.

         Take this time and use it well. Center down. Stop and listen and pray. Touch those you love in ways that are less familiar. Reach out with words, with your heart.

        I thank Fr. Bill for his caring and thoughtful presentations that gave me and the community new ways of seeing and being. God bless him in all he does. 

        Sr. Nancy Kordenbrock, OSB