Note: In lieu of Worth a Listen (normally appearing here on Wednesday), I'm writing this after the WinterJam just occurred in our area with a concert in Peoria Sunday night. When I posted occasional updates on Facebook & Twitter from the concert, there were a lot of questions (on FB) about how the concert, how it was, should people bring their small children, etc. This is to answer those questions as well as talk about this great I'll re-run this next year as WinterJam makes it way to our area again, so consider this a "primer" on how to encounter WinterJam successfully.
I'm a veteran, having just attended my third WinterJam. I think I've got this "down" now and have a good strategy for attending and making the most of this great concert.
WinterJam, the largest Christian concert series in the world (and largest altogether if Wikipedia is to be believed) is a traveling concert series founded by NewSong and featuring more than a half-dozen Christian contemporary music (CCM) acts.
Read the rest of the story at my new website, Reading Catholic. Click here for link to the rest of the article on Reading Catholic. I invite you to follow me there!
Showing posts with label not far from the Kingdom of God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label not far from the Kingdom of God. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Worth a Listen: Remember Your Chains by Steven Curtis Chapman
Sharing great songs that are inspiring, uplifting and/or are otherwise "worth a listen". Explanation here.
Several weeks ago, I had an encounter with an acquaintance that left me really sad about her views. Suffice to say that even though I pitied her, I was tempted and did indulge in feeling superior for several moments. Then I realized, oh, hey, I pretty much was this person at her age (early 20s). Later that night, this is the song that came into my head.
After this, I just had to laugh at myself for feeling (and trust me, I'm using the air quotes here) "better than" someone when I'm 30 years older and wiser. Recognizing pride, especially spiritual pride, really should lead us to laugh at ourselves, don't you think? I'm pretty sure St. Francis de Sales has a great quote about this, but I can't find it at the moment. Anyone else know it? When I searched for a video of the song, I found this nice reflection from Steven Curtis Chapman about how he came to write the song. ("It's why we have to keep preaching the gospel to our own hearts"--what a great turn of phrase). Beautiful. The entire song is worth a listen as well; I've just bought it on iTunes, and I encourage you to do the same.
Several weeks ago, I had an encounter with an acquaintance that left me really sad about her views. Suffice to say that even though I pitied her, I was tempted and did indulge in feeling superior for several moments. Then I realized, oh, hey, I pretty much was this person at her age (early 20s). Later that night, this is the song that came into my head.
After this, I just had to laugh at myself for feeling (and trust me, I'm using the air quotes here) "better than" someone when I'm 30 years older and wiser. Recognizing pride, especially spiritual pride, really should lead us to laugh at ourselves, don't you think? I'm pretty sure St. Francis de Sales has a great quote about this, but I can't find it at the moment. Anyone else know it? When I searched for a video of the song, I found this nice reflection from Steven Curtis Chapman about how he came to write the song. ("It's why we have to keep preaching the gospel to our own hearts"--what a great turn of phrase). Beautiful. The entire song is worth a listen as well; I've just bought it on iTunes, and I encourage you to do the same.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Worth a Listen: Revelation Song by Phillips, Craig & Dean
(Sharing great songs that are inspiring, uplifting and/or are otherwise "worth a listen"). Explanation (of a kind) here.
I had another song cued up for this morning (I'll save that for another Wednesday), when at Mass this morning, I head the first reading proclaimed.
I immediately thought, I know the song I should feature! I can actually be liturgically appropriate for today. So I rushed (unsuccessfully) to get home before 7 a.m. (when the other song was scheduled to post), to post this one instead.
The first reading, like all this week in the days leading up to the feast of Christ the King this Sunday, is from the Revelation to John. Here is part of it:
The four living creatures, each of them with six wings,
were covered with eyes inside and out.
Day and night they do not stop exclaiming:
"Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God almighty,
who was, and who is, and who is to come."
Whenever the living creatures give glory and honor and thanks
to the one who sits on the throne, who lives forever and ever,
the twenty-four elders fall down
before the one who sits on the throne
and worship him, who lives forever and ever.
They throw down their crowns before the throne, exclaiming:
"Worthy are you, Lord our God,
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things;
because of your will they came to be and were created."
And I thought of a song we are hearing on the radio a lot these days, "Revelation Song." The video above, which features a bit of the song, shows the band describing how the song is powerful in moving people. I agree.
Our family tries to read the Mass readings in the morning, taking turns reading. Our kids sometimes bicker about who gets to do what, lest you imagine a holy scene at the breakfast table.
Every few weeks, a reading or responsorial Psalm will remind us of a song we hear on our local Christian radio station. I do like this, as it helps reinforce how steeped we are in Scripture as Catholics, and how worship music and some Christian music can aid our prayer life and knowledge of Scripture.
(A humorous aside: just yesterday, the kids read the Mass readings as I was driving my teenager to a friend's house, and when she finished the Gospel about Jesus encountering Zaccheus, I immediately launched into, "Zaccheus was a wee little man and a wee little man was he.")
This week, as we lead up to the Feast of Christ the King, the Church's readings point towards the last things, the end of the world, to prepare us for the beginning of the liturgical year with the first Sunday of Advent. My theologian husband told me once that there's an old church tradition/hope that the Lord will return in glory on the feast of Christ the King.
One of the band members says in the video about the song, "We felt passionate about the song. When I hear that song, whatever circumstance I am in, it takes me to that place. And where is that place? It's in the presence of Jesus Christ."
As Catholics, we have the knowledge that Jesus is truly present in the Eucharist. So when we visit Jesus, whether in a time of Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament or just a quick prayer time at a Church, we are in a very special way in that Presence. Meditating on this song, too, can help dispose us to worship:
Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come.
I had another song cued up for this morning (I'll save that for another Wednesday), when at Mass this morning, I head the first reading proclaimed.
I immediately thought, I know the song I should feature! I can actually be liturgically appropriate for today. So I rushed (unsuccessfully) to get home before 7 a.m. (when the other song was scheduled to post), to post this one instead.
The first reading, like all this week in the days leading up to the feast of Christ the King this Sunday, is from the Revelation to John. Here is part of it:
The four living creatures, each of them with six wings,
were covered with eyes inside and out.
Day and night they do not stop exclaiming:
"Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God almighty,
who was, and who is, and who is to come."
Whenever the living creatures give glory and honor and thanks
to the one who sits on the throne, who lives forever and ever,
the twenty-four elders fall down
before the one who sits on the throne
and worship him, who lives forever and ever.
They throw down their crowns before the throne, exclaiming:
"Worthy are you, Lord our God,
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things;
because of your will they came to be and were created."
And I thought of a song we are hearing on the radio a lot these days, "Revelation Song." The video above, which features a bit of the song, shows the band describing how the song is powerful in moving people. I agree.
Our family tries to read the Mass readings in the morning, taking turns reading. Our kids sometimes bicker about who gets to do what, lest you imagine a holy scene at the breakfast table.
Every few weeks, a reading or responsorial Psalm will remind us of a song we hear on our local Christian radio station. I do like this, as it helps reinforce how steeped we are in Scripture as Catholics, and how worship music and some Christian music can aid our prayer life and knowledge of Scripture.
(A humorous aside: just yesterday, the kids read the Mass readings as I was driving my teenager to a friend's house, and when she finished the Gospel about Jesus encountering Zaccheus, I immediately launched into, "Zaccheus was a wee little man and a wee little man was he.")
This week, as we lead up to the Feast of Christ the King, the Church's readings point towards the last things, the end of the world, to prepare us for the beginning of the liturgical year with the first Sunday of Advent. My theologian husband told me once that there's an old church tradition/hope that the Lord will return in glory on the feast of Christ the King.
One of the band members says in the video about the song, "We felt passionate about the song. When I hear that song, whatever circumstance I am in, it takes me to that place. And where is that place? It's in the presence of Jesus Christ."
As Catholics, we have the knowledge that Jesus is truly present in the Eucharist. So when we visit Jesus, whether in a time of Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament or just a quick prayer time at a Church, we are in a very special way in that Presence. Meditating on this song, too, can help dispose us to worship:
Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Not Far from the Kingdom of God?
I have a Facebook friend (he's the husband of a delightful local friend, both with terrific senses of humor), who has a guiltily funny meme going whenever a celebrity dies. Here's a basic example: when Leslie Nielsen died, said friend posted a photo of Liam Neeson and writes as a caption, "Leslie Nielsen, you will be missed."
The comments at first (and even now) can be part of the fun, as friends write, "Hey, I think you've got the wrong person." Etc. Much silliness in the comments usually ensues, and some are much more guilty pleasures than others.
I happened to see the couple at a gathering late last week. I confided in them that my first thought (instead of a prayer for the repose of her soul) when discovering that Helen Gurley Brown (HGB), the longtime editor of Cosmopolitan magazine, had died, was thinking, "I wonder whose photo for her will be on (friend's) Facebook page."
We laughed about it. He mentioned how it has taken on a life of its own, with people messaging him whenever a celebrity dies. I gave my mea culpa for the time last year when I myself did that, when some minor television celebrity I can't now recall, had passed away. I sent a message along the lines of, "You should know that (minor celebrity) has died. And will be missed." Mea culpa, indeed.
Fortunately for me and the state of my soul, I was driving at the time I learned of HGB's death, and so couldn't check Facebook. (So, in fact, I did take a moment to pray for her; Facebook friend was unaware of her and didn't "feature" her). Later that night, I discovered via Twitter and Facebook that another famous woman, Nellie Gray, founder of the March for Life and stalwart pro-life activist, had died the same day.
And so despite my initial first guilty thoughts about Helen Gurley Brown, learning that she had died the same day as Nellie Gray, gave me a kind of comfort. I can imagine, because God has an excellent sense of humor, that Nellie Gray may have been invited to help shepherd poor HGB through the pearly gates, or at least in purgatory. Nellie Gray could be pretty strict about things, and knowing that this quality of hers would certainly be sloughed away, I can picture these two contemporaries (they were born just a few years apart) being together and important to each other in some unknown-to-us way.
Later, I discovered via Deacon Greg Kandra of The Deacon's Bench blog that HGB had been a million-dollar contributor to Catholic schools in NYC, and Cardinal Dolan had "danced" with her. (read about the story behind the photo here). Another sweet image, and one that makes me think, actually more hope than believe, as I've said before and on other occasions, "Not far from the Kingdom of God."
The comments at first (and even now) can be part of the fun, as friends write, "Hey, I think you've got the wrong person." Etc. Much silliness in the comments usually ensues, and some are much more guilty pleasures than others.
I happened to see the couple at a gathering late last week. I confided in them that my first thought (instead of a prayer for the repose of her soul) when discovering that Helen Gurley Brown (HGB), the longtime editor of Cosmopolitan magazine, had died, was thinking, "I wonder whose photo for her will be on (friend's) Facebook page."
We laughed about it. He mentioned how it has taken on a life of its own, with people messaging him whenever a celebrity dies. I gave my mea culpa for the time last year when I myself did that, when some minor television celebrity I can't now recall, had passed away. I sent a message along the lines of, "You should know that (minor celebrity) has died. And will be missed." Mea culpa, indeed.
Fortunately for me and the state of my soul, I was driving at the time I learned of HGB's death, and so couldn't check Facebook. (So, in fact, I did take a moment to pray for her; Facebook friend was unaware of her and didn't "feature" her). Later that night, I discovered via Twitter and Facebook that another famous woman, Nellie Gray, founder of the March for Life and stalwart pro-life activist, had died the same day.
And so despite my initial first guilty thoughts about Helen Gurley Brown, learning that she had died the same day as Nellie Gray, gave me a kind of comfort. I can imagine, because God has an excellent sense of humor, that Nellie Gray may have been invited to help shepherd poor HGB through the pearly gates, or at least in purgatory. Nellie Gray could be pretty strict about things, and knowing that this quality of hers would certainly be sloughed away, I can picture these two contemporaries (they were born just a few years apart) being together and important to each other in some unknown-to-us way.
Later, I discovered via Deacon Greg Kandra of The Deacon's Bench blog that HGB had been a million-dollar contributor to Catholic schools in NYC, and Cardinal Dolan had "danced" with her. (read about the story behind the photo here). Another sweet image, and one that makes me think, actually more hope than believe, as I've said before and on other occasions, "Not far from the Kingdom of God."
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Maurice Sendak, RIP: UPDATED
Rest in peace, Maurice Sendak.
Our family has a long association with Maurice Sendak, children's book author and illustrator. In my childhood, I (or at least our house) had a copy of Where the Wild Things Are. I especially loved Max's room and how his supper was warm in it. We weren't ever allowed to eat in our bedrooms. To the young me, it seemed fantastic and wonderful that Max could have supper in his room, especially after such misbehavior and such an adventure (even in his dreams).
When my husband and I were first married and he had convinced me that a puppy was a good idea, the first book we read together about it was The Art of Raising Your Puppy by the Monks of New Skete, an order of Orthodox brothers who train dogs as their charism. For some reason, it was comforting that Maurice Sendak had his dogs trained personally with the Monks, as they discuss in the books.
And when children came to our house, Where the Wild Things Are was a perennial favorite at bedtime. In particular, after a bad day, it was one of the very reliable soothing books, along with Goodnight Moon and really anything by Margaret Wise Brown. Knowing that your supper would be waiting for you after adventures, that mom and dad will love you no matter how "wild" you are. It's just a perfect book. With every one of our children, whenever I got to the line, "and Max wanted to be where someone loved him best of all..." each one of our children would blurt out, "with his mommy and his daddy" as if it were in actually written in the text, and so for that book, for us, it is.
When I kept a personal blog many years ago, I had pseudonyms for my children, and our son's name was "Max." Now you know why.
Somewhere, many years ago, I read that Where The Wild Things Are is like a kids' version of the Parable of the Prodigal Son. Read it again with that in mind, and I think you will agree.
We have never seen the movie that was made several years back. None of us really wanted to, even though the promotions were quite appealing. I just don't know how you can improve upon or make a full-length movie about a perfect picture book. It's like making a movie about The Runaway Bunny. How can it possibly be any good?
Maurice Sendak illustrated, but did not write, the Little Bear books (writing was by Else Holmelund Minarik) , and I saw an interview with Sendak once in which he mentioned how important it was for him to get the mother illustrated just so. The illustrations are what "make" the Little Bear series, and noticed how the picture that Little Bear drew in the story, A Kiss for Little Bear is a primitive Wild-Thing like monster. The Little Bear books were so popular young-age books at our house. Our oldest had "Birthday Soup" memorized at 3 years old--there's a video of that somewhere (oh, what did we people do who had kids before YouTube?). We also know large parts of most of the rest of the Little Bear books. I have especially fond memories of illustrations in The Goblin Story and Little Bear is Not Sleepy and oh, just about all the others. So I'm going to stop now.
Sendak had a book come out in the last year, but it was not well-reviewed. I didn't like all of Sendak's work, so it wouldn't surprise me if this one isn't great. Where the Wild Things Are and Little Bear are enough to make him well-loved at our house.
UPDATE:
Earlier today, I was driving into town to meet my husband for noon Mass, and I listened to a part of the NPR show "Fresh Air" where today, the show replayed several previous interviews host Terry Gross did with Sendak in recent years. [As a total aside, can I say that she is an AMAZING interviewer when not constrained by the age of celebrity and uber-scripted interviews, which sadly is most of the time these days].
She asked Sendak at one point about his lack of faith (Sendak had been raised Jewish), and mentioned she thought his unbelief seemed to grow stronger instead of being tested. He said something along the lines of (I'm paraphrasing here) "oh, yes, absolutely, I don't think there is anything after death, which is why it's so sad when my friends die." And yet he said he did not fear death, and did not mind getting old as it allowed him time to read books and listen to great music. But then he said, a choke in his voice, "I believe I will see my brother again."
From the "Fresh Air" page with the entire interview, well worth a listen:
"I have nothing now but praise for my life. I'm not unhappy. I cry a lot because I miss people. They die and I can't stop them. They leave me and I love them more. ... What I dread is the isolation. ... There are so many beautiful things in the world which I will have to leave when I die, but I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready."
After listening to this, and hearing his search for the good and beautiful, I can only to pray for him in the fond hope that he is re-united with his brother, where are all re-united perfectly. I need to start a category in labels of "not far from the Kingdom of God," for which I consider Maurice Sendak in that category, along with Steve Jobs. All these Emeths (from C.S. Lewis' The Last Battle who "all find what they truly seek."
Our family has a long association with Maurice Sendak, children's book author and illustrator. In my childhood, I (or at least our house) had a copy of Where the Wild Things Are. I especially loved Max's room and how his supper was warm in it. We weren't ever allowed to eat in our bedrooms. To the young me, it seemed fantastic and wonderful that Max could have supper in his room, especially after such misbehavior and such an adventure (even in his dreams).
When my husband and I were first married and he had convinced me that a puppy was a good idea, the first book we read together about it was The Art of Raising Your Puppy by the Monks of New Skete, an order of Orthodox brothers who train dogs as their charism. For some reason, it was comforting that Maurice Sendak had his dogs trained personally with the Monks, as they discuss in the books.
And when children came to our house, Where the Wild Things Are was a perennial favorite at bedtime. In particular, after a bad day, it was one of the very reliable soothing books, along with Goodnight Moon and really anything by Margaret Wise Brown. Knowing that your supper would be waiting for you after adventures, that mom and dad will love you no matter how "wild" you are. It's just a perfect book. With every one of our children, whenever I got to the line, "and Max wanted to be where someone loved him best of all..." each one of our children would blurt out, "with his mommy and his daddy" as if it were in actually written in the text, and so for that book, for us, it is.
When I kept a personal blog many years ago, I had pseudonyms for my children, and our son's name was "Max." Now you know why.
Somewhere, many years ago, I read that Where The Wild Things Are is like a kids' version of the Parable of the Prodigal Son. Read it again with that in mind, and I think you will agree.
We have never seen the movie that was made several years back. None of us really wanted to, even though the promotions were quite appealing. I just don't know how you can improve upon or make a full-length movie about a perfect picture book. It's like making a movie about The Runaway Bunny. How can it possibly be any good?
Maurice Sendak illustrated, but did not write, the Little Bear books (writing was by Else Holmelund Minarik) , and I saw an interview with Sendak once in which he mentioned how important it was for him to get the mother illustrated just so. The illustrations are what "make" the Little Bear series, and noticed how the picture that Little Bear drew in the story, A Kiss for Little Bear is a primitive Wild-Thing like monster. The Little Bear books were so popular young-age books at our house. Our oldest had "Birthday Soup" memorized at 3 years old--there's a video of that somewhere (oh, what did we people do who had kids before YouTube?). We also know large parts of most of the rest of the Little Bear books. I have especially fond memories of illustrations in The Goblin Story and Little Bear is Not Sleepy and oh, just about all the others. So I'm going to stop now.
Sendak had a book come out in the last year, but it was not well-reviewed. I didn't like all of Sendak's work, so it wouldn't surprise me if this one isn't great. Where the Wild Things Are and Little Bear are enough to make him well-loved at our house.
UPDATE:
Earlier today, I was driving into town to meet my husband for noon Mass, and I listened to a part of the NPR show "Fresh Air" where today, the show replayed several previous interviews host Terry Gross did with Sendak in recent years. [As a total aside, can I say that she is an AMAZING interviewer when not constrained by the age of celebrity and uber-scripted interviews, which sadly is most of the time these days].
She asked Sendak at one point about his lack of faith (Sendak had been raised Jewish), and mentioned she thought his unbelief seemed to grow stronger instead of being tested. He said something along the lines of (I'm paraphrasing here) "oh, yes, absolutely, I don't think there is anything after death, which is why it's so sad when my friends die." And yet he said he did not fear death, and did not mind getting old as it allowed him time to read books and listen to great music. But then he said, a choke in his voice, "I believe I will see my brother again."
From the "Fresh Air" page with the entire interview, well worth a listen:
"I have nothing now but praise for my life. I'm not unhappy. I cry a lot because I miss people. They die and I can't stop them. They leave me and I love them more. ... What I dread is the isolation. ... There are so many beautiful things in the world which I will have to leave when I die, but I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready."
After listening to this, and hearing his search for the good and beautiful, I can only to pray for him in the fond hope that he is re-united with his brother, where are all re-united perfectly. I need to start a category in labels of "not far from the Kingdom of God," for which I consider Maurice Sendak in that category, along with Steve Jobs. All these Emeths (from C.S. Lewis' The Last Battle who "all find what they truly seek."
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