by Mary Clifford Morrell
A few weeks ago, a delightful image popped up in my social media feed. It was a baby owl, sitting on a branch, but leaning over as far as possible so he was looking back at me from an upside-down position.
That’s a different perspective, I thought, later considering how valuable looking at things from a different perspective can actually be.
That thought has been part of my daily reflections since then, so I was intrigued when the celebrant for the Feast of the Ascension Mass spoke about perspective in his homily.
He spoke about taking a drive up the mountain and the lovely sights one can see, but, he said if you really want to see everything you have to pay attention on the drive back because you will see things you didn’t see on the way up. The drive back on the same road offers a new perspective.
I have found that to be true, often very surprised at what I have missed driving somewhere. I often find myself noticing an old home, an interesting store, or a lovely patch of flowers and thinking, “Wow, I didn’t notice that before.”
He related those two perspectives—the drive up and the drive down—to us walking with Jesus before his ascension and how we understand him and the events of his life in light of his Ascension.
Prior to his Ascension, the disciples had doubts and perhaps considered if all that had happened was a failure. Had Jesus acquiesced? He allowed all that had happened to happen without any push back.
The celebrant explained that we, like the disciples, must travel the road twice, the second time reliving the events of Jesus’ life; not seeing Jesus reduced to weakness but manifesting his power, a divine power which leads to forgiveness, renewal, reconciliation, and rebuilding.
Jesus tells the apostles, “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8).
Part of our growth as disciples is to also look at ourselves, from time to time, with a different perspective to evaluate how well, or if, we are allowing the power of the Holy Spirit to work in our lives.
Trappist monk Thomas Merton observed, “We cannot see things in perspective until we cease to hug them to our own bosom.” It is human nature to believe the way we see things the first time around is the right way, the only way, to see and understand them.
The gifts of the Holy Spirit can help us take that second drive up the mountain.
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
Several years ago, my husband found an old hand water pump in his customer’s garbage and brought it home to create a lovely water feature in the corner of our yard. Like an abundant wellspring, water streams continuously from the pump into a small metal bucket and then a large barrel.
The overflow waters the flowers planted among the rocks around the barrel, and there is constant chatter from birds of all sizes socializing, drinking, and bathing. Sometimes a family of deer visits, and in the morning, the barrel is empty, and the water has stopped pumping.
My grandchildren love to play in the barrel and believe the water comes from a spring in the ground. One day, my young granddaughter noticed the water wasn’t flowing and yelled to me, very concerned, ‘Abuela, the spring is dry!”
I nodded my head, thinking, that’s exactly how I feel on some days. There is no way I can be a source of nourishment for others when I can barely get through the day myself. And then we filled up the barrel together, and water flowed from the pump again. To her, it was amazing. We had saved the day.
I believe most people sense that we are so much more than simply flesh and blood. There is a divine source of life, God’s wellspring of spirit, creativity, and goodness of unfathomable depth within each of us. Sometimes we lose touch with that source. Sometimes just the daily work of life cuts it off, and we struggle to be who we want to be, who we know we can be.
Sometimes we forget we are God’s creation of love. When I find that happening, I turn to Psalms 139 and reflect, especially, on these beautiful words: “You formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am wonderfully made; wonderful are your works! My very self you know.” (Psalms 139:13-14)
I am learning to spend time unraveling the weeds and pulling out the stones, one by one, that is holding back my wellspring, aided by one little person who reminded me I am worth the time when she threw her arms around my waist and said, “Abuela, what would the birds do without you?!”
More like, what would I do without the birds? But it never hurts to see yourself through the eyes of those who love you. Wonderfully made.
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
A number of years ago, when I was writing a column on leadership, I shared a story that bears repeating:
As a mom of many, my thousands of trips to the supermarket have taught me an important truth. The chances of my leaving at least one bag of groceries behind are pretty high. The chances of my retrieving what I’ve lost are just about zip.
So when I was leaving the supermarket, my attention quickly turned to a young man who whizzed by me yelling, “You left this behind!” High above his head, he held a plastic bag containing a carton of eggs.
When it seemed he would lose his customer out the revolving front doors, he quickly shouted, “MOM! You left this!”
In an instant, the woman had spun on her heels and was facing the young man. Realizing that a stranger was holding her grocery bag, she began to laugh, explaining that, for a second, she thought it was her son calling her, and that she always turns around when she hears “Mom!”
Most moms would agree, it’s instinctual.
Obviously, the young man had learned that lesson, as well, having observed that just about any mom will respond to that small but powerful word. With a big smile, and certainly happy to be of service, he still apologized for using the strategy saying, “Sorry for any disrespect, M’am. I just wanted to make sure you got your package!”
My original focus for the column was on the young man and the leadership skills that were obviously developing in spite of his young age. But, with Mother’s Day having just passed and May being the traditional month to celebrate the Mary, Mother of God, it seems appropriate to focus now on the power of the title, mom.
There is an incredible bond that develops between a mother and a child which propels a mother to put their child’s needs before their own, to sacrifice whatever is necessary for the child, to feel in the deepest part of their hearts their child’s fears, pain, and doubts, and be compelled to do what is necessary to comfort them and ensure they feel safe and secure, and happy.
Mary, as Our Lady of Guadalupe, expressed many of these sentiments to Saint Juan Diego when she said, “Do not be troubled or weighed down with grief. Do not fear any illness or vexation, anxiety, or pain. Am I not here who am your Mother? Are you not under my shadow and protection? Am I not your fountain of life? Are you not in the folds of my mantle? In the crossing of my arms? Is there anything else you need?”
At the heart of the power of mom is love, fueled by passion and prayer which is often beyond understanding.
Pope Francis observed, “A society without mothers would be a dehumanized society, for mothers are always, even in the worst moments, witnesses of tenderness, dedication and moral strength. … Dearest mothers, thank you, thank you for what you are in your family and for what you give to the Church and the world.”
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
As we pulled into the diner for lunch, I noticed a large black bird with a wide wingspan swooping overhead. As I exited my car and walked toward the building, I realized the bird, a black vulture, had descended on the roof edge along the gutter, now perched wing-to-wing with a second vulture. As we got closer, we could see them both looking intently at us with beady eyes, their heads moving ever so slightly lower as we got closer.
"Keep moving," said my husband with a chuckle, "so they don't think we're their next meal."
I laughed, but it was eerie, knowing how intently they were watching us. I wondered if there was something to learn from the experience.
As scavengers, vultures have a tarnished image. They live off dead and rotting carcasses, something abhorrent to people. They are equated with death and destruction and things foul. But without vultures and similar members of the avian clean-up and sanitation crew, humanity would suffer.
After all, God created every living creature, vultures and humans, alike, with a purpose. Vultures play a significant role in the life cycle, providing opportunities for regeneration, purification, and new beginnings. They get rid of the old, not only what's not needed but what can be detrimental to humans.
Now, when I see a vulture being a vulture on the side of the road or flying overhead, I consider what it is that needs purification and renewal in my life. What is happening in my life that is detrimental to my mental, physical, spiritual life, or family life? What resources are available to me to help me make that change?
Most importantly, I remember that the vulture is living its God-given purpose, which causes me to reflect on whether I am living my purpose, as well.
One of my favorite quotes about creation comes from famed Russian novelist and Orthodox Christian, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, who wrote, "Love all God's creation, the whole and every grain of sand of it. Love every leaf, every ray of God's light. Love the animals, love the plants, love everything. If you love everything, you will perceive the divine mystery in things. Once you perceive it, you will begin to comprehend it better every day. And you will come at last to love the whole world with an all-embracing love."
Vultures may not be the most loveable of birds, but they have been part of my lesson that God's creation has the power to teach us about God, about ourselves, and the relationships that bind us if we are willing to be receptive students.
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.