Lessons for Living

I was reading passages recently from a wonderful book called Find Your Way Home: Words from the Street, Wisdom from the Heart. It was written by the women of Magdalene. "Magdalene is a residential community in Nashville for women who have survived lives of prostitution, violence, and abuse. The women live together and support each other through the work of Thistle Farms, a nonprofit bath and body-care business run by the women." The book chronicles the lessons for communal living that the women have developed over the years as they grow, heal, and love each other back to health. Similar to the Benedictine rule established by monks centuries ago, these lessons are simple, non-restraining, and in fact, liberating. I believe they apply to us all, in one way or another.

Here are a few that struck me as especially powerful:

• Proclaim Original Grace

We are made in the image of God. We look at each person's journey beginning not with original sin but with original grace.

Our journeys all start and end with God, and everything we do is a step toward our return to wholeness. Because grace is our beginning, we are worthy of all good things.

We are God's children in flesh and spirit. We never have to live in shame for all the things that have been done to us or that we have done to others.

• Make a Small Change and See the Big Difference

Sometimes the miracle of healing happens so slowly that we fail to notice the great difference in our lives.

Most of the changes in our lives occur in subtle ways. These subtle changes can lead to a difference that is big and profound.

The difference can set us free so we never have to buy or sell pieces of ourselves again to find meaning.

• Stand on New Ground and Believe You are Not Lost

What we are feeling and experiencing is not a sense of being lost but the wonder of discovering something new.

This is sacred ground. We walk it alone, following the advice of others who have walked before us.

The prayer is to walk this ground in faith and trust that the Spirit leads us toward God.

• Lose Gracefully

If you are wrong, act with grace and carry on with the work of healing. It is the easiest way to move forward in peace.

Say you are sorry for whatever you have done, ask for forgiveness, and let it go. It is not yours to worry about anymore.

• Consider the Thistle

The thistle blooms in streets and alleys where women walk and sleep.

We spend a lot of time considering the thistle--its rough exterior, its soft and regal center, and its capacity to break through concrete to blossom.

In a world that names them weeds, we taste the riches of thistles and savor their beauty.

We are thistle farmers. The world is our farm, and we harvest where other people do not want to travel.

For more information about Thistle Farms or Magdalene House,

http://www.thistlefarms.org/

[Source: Find Your Way Home: Words from the Street, Wisdom from the Heart by the Women of Magdalene with Becca Stevens. Abingdon Press, Nashville. ©2008.]

ROMBOC Part 4

Last week we addressed changes in the Nicene Creed, which is prayed as a profession of our beliefs. The next few changes occur at the beginning of the Liturgy of the Eucharist.

The first change of just one small word spoken by the priest. Can you find it?

May the Lord accept the sacrifice at your hands

for the praise and glory of his name,

for our good

and the good of all his holy Church.

(If you said it aloud, I bet you recognized that the word holy has been added to the last line.)

Then comes the Preface Dialogue. Here you will remember a change we discussed at the beginning of the Mass.

Priest: The Lord by with you.

People And with your spirit.

Priest: Lift up your hearts.

People: We lift them up to the Lord.

Priest: Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.

People: It is right and just.

Note that last response has been modified, as well.

Finally today, I wanted to share the changes that you will notice in the Sanctus, or "Holy, Holy, Holy." This one will certainly be of concern for all the music ministers out there as it is often sung during the Mass.

Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of hosts.

Heaven and earth are full of your glory.

Hosanna in the highest.

Blessed is he who comes

in the name of the Lord.

Hosanna in the highest.

Hope your finding this training process helpful. Again, change is never easy. However it does become remarkably more bearable when we open ourselves to accepting it.

Sand, anyone?

Today's Gospel relates the parable of the wise man who built his house on a foundation of rock and the fool who chose instead to build on sand. If you're like me, you've heard this story told and retold for many years. It begins and I sort of tune out. I know this one. Lesson learned! In fact, I go ahead and imagine myself perched high upon the rocky mountain next to the wise man. Together we stand looking down with pity at the poor slob shoring up the walls of his fancy new beach house. We (the wise man and myself) shake our heads in disgust, cluck our tongues, and share a knowing look of "he'll just never learn."

I know the story, and I also know the moral--Dude, don't build on sand! I automatically place myself on the winning side. I am a rock builder from way back, says I with smug assurance. But am I really? What does it mean to build on sand?

Maybe building on sand involves those hasty, impulsive decisions I make sometimes. The ones that seem so important that I couldn't possible take time to check out the details or consequences. Those same decisions that I find myself regretting later and hoping to fix quickly so no one else notices. Maybe I'm really just dusting sand off my shoes.

What about those relationships that I choose not to tend? I'm too busy to call her. I'm too tired to talk to him. I don't want to deal with those issues right now. Relationships built on sand are susceptible to strong, unexpected currents, but even gentle waves can cause drift.

The more I think about all the things I build in life, the more I find shades of myself in that poor fool on the beach. Perhaps I'm really standing not too far down the shore from him. It makes me realize that just because I've heard the story a hundred times before, I'm not necessarily on the right side of the moral.

Think about it. Notice any sand on your shoes today?

ROMBOC Part 3

Today's ROMBOC (ROman Missal BOot Camp) training exercise highlights what will undoubtedly be one of the most noticeable revisions to the prayers of the Mass. A few significant changes have been made to the Nicene Creed, the prayer in which we profess our faith. Again the purpose of these changes is to make the translation more accurate and in this case to more concisely express what we believe as Catholics. Notice the fun new word we all get to learn. Try slipping it into casual conversation to impress your friends!

Nicene Creed

I believe in one God,

the Father almighty,

maker of heaven and earth,

of all things visible and invisible.

And in one Lord Jesus Christ,

the Only Begotten Son of God,

born of the Father before all ages.

God from God, Light from Light,

true God from true God,

begotten, not made,

consubstantial with the Father;

through him all things were made.

For us men and for our salvation

he came down from heaven,

and by the Holy Spirit

was incarnate of the Virgin Mary,

and became man.

For our sake

he was crucified under Pontius Pilate,

he suffered death and was buried,

and rose again on the third day

in accordance with the Scriptures.

He ascended into heaven and is seated

at the right hand of the Father.

He will come again in glory

to judge the living and the dead

and his kingdom will have no end.

And in the Holy Spirit, the Lord,

the giver of life, who proceeds

from the Father and the Son,

who with the Father and the Sone

is adored and glorified,

who has spoken through the prophets.

And one, holy, catholic

and apostolic Church.

I confess one baptism

for the forgiveness of sins

and I look forward to the

resurrection

of the dead

and the life of the world to come.

Amen.

**For those of you keeping track, the fun new word in the text is consubstantial. It means "of the same substance, nature, or essence" and replaces "one in being with the Father." The new word is more closely related to the Latin word consubstantialis.

The Little Way

It's nearly impossible to turn on the television, listen to the radio, or surf the web and not be bombarded with the many ways in which you and your life need to be improved. What was once reserved for commercials and advertisements has now seeped into news stories and entertainment shows. You've seen the segments on what you should or shouldn't eat, how you can improve this or stop that. Scientific research is used to report how just about everything you have ever done might someday result in a fatal disease. Let's face it, most mainstream messages are designed to make you need something, want something, or just plain feel uneasy enough to search for comfort in things that are packaged and sold.

Is it any wonder that with this as our comfort zone so many of us feel unworthy or somehow less than what we should be? Should we be surprised that this attitude also translates to our faith life? Have you ever asked yourself how someone like you can presume to love God, or be loved by him in return?

Saint Therese of Lisieux died at a very young age. She never acted in any grand or forceful ways. She was not a martyr. In fact, she lived most of her short life within the shelter of her family and the solitude of a convent. However, God used her to work miracles and he allowed the Spirit to speak through her in ways that can offer us great comfort. Her writings and the message of her words are known as "the Little Way." This theology she shared can be best understood through her own words,

"The more one is weak, without desires and without virtues, the more one is suited for the operations of God's consuming and transforming love."

In other words, we are perfectly made by God and for God. There is no need for us to feel incomplete when we unite ourselves with him. Those frailties and weaknesses that the world tells us must be changed, fixed, or covered up are the very elements of ourselves that God loves most and uses to transform the world.

In a book about St. Therese, her Little Way is further explained,

The Little Way is a whole new way of life, a way of holiness that is open to all because it requires nothing from anyone but the ordinary, day-to-day experience of which every life is made. Steeped in her mission of love, Therese saw no reason to take upon herself great penances, which were common in her day. She soon gave them up, content to offer God the small sacrifices which came in the routine of community life, the little occasions to be kind to others, the apostolate of the smile when smiling at another was the last thing she felt like doing. Such opportunities to demonstrate love for God by showing it to others abound in everyone's daily life.

The Little Way finds joy in the present moment, in being pleased to be the person you are, whoever you are. It is a school of self-acceptance, which goes beyond accepting who you are to wanting to be who you are. It is a way of coming to terms with life not as it might be but as it is.

You don't need to change yourself to love and be loved. Are you ready to not just accept yourself, but to really love yourself and want to be the person you are today? How might your life change if you answer yes?

[Source: Maurice & Therese: The Story of Love by Patrick Ahern. Doubleday. © 1998.]

Detours

Do you ever find yourself looking in a mirror and wondering what it is you are meant to do next? I know I have . . . on more than one occasion. Funny how life ebbs and flows. One day I know exactly where I'm headed and move with full force only find myself the next day turning sharply, slowing to a crawl, or stopping altogether. Trust me, I don't tend to be a fan of these detours. I'm a mover and live with a strong sense that time is too short and too precious to waste. More often than not, I have viewed these questioning times, these detours and direction changes as wastes of time. But as I grow older, I'm starting to see these moments as anything but wastes of time. In fact, I'm slowly learning these are some of the most fruitful and precious times in my life. Why you ask? Because these are the times when I give up my sense of control and let God unfold his plan. These are times when I allow Him to guide my next step.

Blessed John Paul II said it well,

God calls us and sends us forth as laborers in His vineyard. He calls us and sends us forth to work for the coming of His Kingdom in history. In fact, from eternity God has thought of each of us and has loved us as unique individuals. Every one of us He has called by name. However, only in the unfolding of the personal history of our lives and its events is the eternal plan of God revealed to each of us. It is a gradual process; one that happens day by day.

What a beautiful reassurance that there is no such thing as wasted time when we are truly living in harmony with God. Those detours are just a new revelation. Like each petal of a rose, the next unfolding reveals a bit more of the beautiful, complete flower. We too are in a constant state of unfolding. What do the detours in your life reveal about God's eternal plan for you?

Thoughts on an Almost Summer Day

For today's blog, I'm borrowing thoughts from one of the most inspirational people I've met, Becca Stevens, Episcopal priest at St. Augustine's Chapel in Nashville.

"All woods in my life, all the woods in your life, teach us the truth about resurrections. They teach us that someday love will right all the wrongs of this earth. It will set the captives free, heal our blindness, make the trees clap their hands in joy and cause people to weep at the beauty of a field of lilies. Someday the lion will lie down with the lamb. Love, more powerful and older than stone, will roll away.

The Ecuadorian woods sang, 'Before there were stones, there was God. Before there was death, there was life. Before there was doubt, there was faith. Before there was war, there was peace. Before there was sin, there was grace.'

Benediction

The sun begins the procession in a deep orange chasuble

as the frogs and crickets begin the opening hymn.

The thistle genuflects reverently as the leaves

rustle to find their place.

The spring-fed lake reflects on the world,

and it is ready to accept the born-again dragonflies

that have heard the call.

The harmonies of the cardinals, sparrows,

and occasional crow offer the praise,

as creation begins its communion with the moon.

And just as the sun dips beneath the shroud of trees

that covers its

and turns the day to memory,

a barred owl calls out the benediction.

Let creation which passes all understanding,

keep your heart and mind in the knowledge and

love of God.

Let the dirt you are made from join in the last

chorus,

and let the water that flows through your veins

give thanks.

[Source: Sanctuary: Unexpected Places Where God Found Me by Becca Stevens. Dimensions for Living, Nashville. © 2005.]

Pentecost Sunday

This past Sunday, the Church celebrated the coming of the Holy Spirit to the apostles. We know this feast as Pentecost Sunday. The significance of this event is great in the life of our Church. The apostles, consumed with the Spirit, left the safety and isolation of their upper room and began the process of building the Church on earth.

To reflect on this coming and its impact in our lives, I'm reposting a meditation that I wrote about a year ago. Be filled with the Spirit!

The wind is howling today. I fear for the big old maple that stands out in the yard. It bends and twists with each gust like it might lift its roots and stumble down the street. The leaves dance and the branches sway in a kind of practiced rhythm. Their movements seem choreographed yet frantic at the same time. I am swept into wind’s music that builds strong crescendos then softens only to pick up strong again. It takes my breath away and sits me on the edge of my seat with nervous anticipation. I feel it inside.

It must have been like this for the apostles in the upper room. I imagine them breathless and uneasy as the Spirit swept through the space and lit them afire. The Spirit turns everything on its head just like the wind sending all the loose pieces of life tumbling out of sight.

Wind makes everyone, even the animals jumpy—and so does the Spirit. In Scripture, the Spirit is the agitator, not the comforter. Wouldn’t the apostles have had an easier time sitting in prayer and reflection with the doors shut and windows closed? But Spirit flipped up the shades and pushed them out the door into the messy, windy world.

I think that’s how it is for us, too. Just when things get too comfortable, the Spirit blows through us and stirs up a storm. We may prefer to close the windows and sit in the silence, but it’s in that howling, swirling wind that we find our set ways twisted into creative motion and new possibilities. There is a time to glory in the stillness, but we only know stillness after the wind has calmed. Spirit bends us and we sway, but that movement gives us cause to plant our roots more firmly. So today I thank God for the restless windy places inside me. I lift my face and take long deep breaths letting Spirit settle where it likes. I feel its rhythm and am ready to dance.

ROMBOC Training Part II

Welcome back to part two of ROMBOC (ROman Missal BOot Camp). Last week we warmed up with the new greeting that will be used beginning the first Sunday of Advent. Shall we review?

Priest: The Lord be with you.

Us: And with your spirit.

Well done! Today, we're going to touch on two more subtle changes in language. Again, it is the intent of the bishops that these changes will bring us closer to the original meaning of the Latin text. If you've ever asked a native speaker of a different language to translate something into English, you've likely heard them express frustration in finding exactly the right words to make the meaning clear. Hence the popular phrase, lost in translation. The changes in the Roman Missal reflect this kind of ongoing tweaking.

Last week we learned the new greeting and one form of the Penitential Act. Today we're going to see another form of this prayer and the changes to the Gloria.

Form B of the Penitential Act is a prayer led by the priest with our response. It is used less often in Mass than the first form which we addressed last week. The new language will look like this:

Priest: Have mercy on us, O Lord.

Us: For we have sinned against you.

Priest: Show us, O Lord, your mercy.

Us: And grant us your salvation.

The second change we'll focus on today involves the Gloria. This is one of those changes that will greatly interest the music minister at your parish since this prayer is often sung these days. You will notice that most of the changes occur in the first stanza of the prayer. The new text will be as follows.

Glory to God in the highest,

and on earth peace to people of

good will. We praise you, we bless

you, we adore you, we glorify you,

we give you thanks for your great

glory, Lord God, heavenly King, O

God, almighty Father.

Lord Jesus Christ, Only Begotten Son,

Lord God, Lamb of God,

Son of the Father,

you take away the sins of the world,

have mercy on us;

you take away the sins of the world,

receive our prayer;

you are seated at the right hand of the Father,

have mercy on us.

For you alone are the Holy One,

you alone are the Lord,

you alone are the Most High,

Jesus Christ with the Holy Spirit,

in the glory of God the Father.

Amen.

If your parish typically sings this prayer, the accompanying music will also be somewhat different. But take heart. If you've ever used music or rhythm as a memory device, you'll know that those prayers we sing will be easier to learn than those we say. Once we adapt to changes in the melody, the words will follow with ease.

As to whether those melodies will be just adapted versions of the ones currently in use or entirely new songs, here's what Our Sunday Visitor says,

"One of the primary questions facing parishes will be whether to choose a revised version of a familiar Mass setting, which would incorporate the new wording but use melodies that are similar to those currently used, or a completely new setting that includes original melodies written specifically for the new text. Publishers are preparing both new and revised settings, leaving a difficult choice in the hands of parish leaders. For some, . . . the easier path seems to be in choosing a setting that is closer to what parishioners are already accustomed to singing."

"Others believe, however, that learning a new melody will prevent people from stumbling over the changed words."

You'll need to wait and see just what your music minister has planned. But either way, you'll be ready for what's coming!

If you'd like to read more about how the changes will affect music, check out the source article for the above quote. [Source: Parish music ministers prepare for major Roman missal changes. Our Sunday Visitor. 9/26/10]

Sweet Emptiness

Some days as I sit down to write this blog, I feel empty. Empty of ideas, inspiration, let's face it--empty of anything meaningful to say. But I recently had a revelation about these moments. In reality, when I can't find things to write I'm not empty; I'm too full. I'm too full of my own thoughts, preoccupations, worries, and distractions. I let too many other things get in the way of the inspiration. The truth is, this is not a phenomenon that happens to me only when I write.

Sometimes I let myself and all my "busyness" get in the way of really living a meaningful life. I become too full to hear God's whispers and feel his inspiration leading me. I find myself feeling empty, scattered, purposeless. . . I suspect it happens to you, too.

I found a passage on this very idea in Margaret Silf's book the Inner Compass.

I discovered another picture of freedom one night while lying in a warm, deep bath. I had emptied one of the little plastic bottles of bath oil into the water, hoping that its promise to be "revitalizing" would rouse me from the threat of lethargy and despondency that was lurking around the corner.

I watched idly as the bootle bobbed up and down on the water. Then I held it down and filled it up. I let it go and watched it sink slowly down and settle on the bottom. I fetched it up again, emptied it, and let it float. My childish pastime made me realize that God sometimes does the same with me. I fill up, gradually, with all the things I desire and want to hold on to. The more I fill up, the deeper I sink, until eventually I lie like a lead balloon at the bottom of the bath, quite incapable of movement. Then something happens to "tip me up and pour me out." It is usually something unwelcome that I resist with all my strength, but if it succeeds in draining me of all the attachment feelings I have collected, then something new happens. The little bottle bobs up again, freed of its cargo of bathwater, light, floating, and responding to every wave. This is the gift of emptiness; only in my emptiness can I be sustained by the buoyancy of God's unfailing love and move on as he created me to in order to grow.

I love this imagery. I have certainly been that bottle weighted at the bottom of the bath. But I rarely recognize the solution. I mistake a feeling of empty for a reality of being too full. Think about your own life. Have you found yourself feeling empty or lost? On closer inspection, might you really be too full? What freedom might come if you were able to let go of all the heaviness and weight of negative emotions, old attachments, distractions, fears, and compulsions?

Might emptiness be a welcome relief leaving you room to be filled with the things God really intends for you?

[Source: Inner Compass: An Invitation to Ignatian Spirituality by Margaret Silf. Loyola Press, Chicago, IL. ©1999.]

Memories of Spring

The last days of spring are willowing away. While working in my yard this weekend, I found myself struck with the most vivid memories of childhood days spent at my grandmother's house. She lived on two large lots and her gardens were filled with fruit trees, rhubarb, grape vines, and all grandmothery kinds of flowers like peonies, lilies of the valley, hollyhocks, and irises. It was my own secret garden. For hours I would act out imagined stories using nature's props to make real my fantastic dreams. I spent countless early mornings and late afternoons hiding under trellises, crawling through lilacs, and dozing on cool, soft grasses under tall oak trees. I can still taste the berries picked from bushes and the cherries right from the tree.

Funny how a breeze can carry with it a lifetime of memories.

This spring the colours pierce,

too opulent, too vivid . . .

Something bruised in me

longs for gardens from my childhood.

~Maude Meehan, "Second Spring"

What memories do the winds of spring uncover in you?

Friday Smiles

A few jokes to make you smile.

A child came home from Vacation Bible School and told his mother he had learned a new song about a cross-eyed bear named Gladly. It took his mother a moment to realize the hymn he'd learned was really "Gladly The Cross I'd Bear."

***********************************************************************************

Here is the Lost Chapter in Genesis . . .

Adam was walking around in the garden of Eden feeling very lonely, so God asked him,

"What's wrong with you?"

Adam replied that he had no one to talk to.

God said that He was going to make Adam a companion and that it would be a woman.

God said,

"This person will gather food for you, cook for you, and when you discover clothing she'll wash it for you. She will always agree with every decision you make. She will bear your children and never ask you to get up in the middle of the night to care for them. She will always be the first to admit she was wrong when you've had a disagreement. She will freely give you love and never have a headache.

Adam asked, "What will a woman like that cost?"

God replied, "An arm and a leg."

Then Adam replied, "What can I get for a rib?

*********************************************************************************

A teen boy had just earned his driving permit. He asked his father if they could discuss the use of the car. The father said, "I'll make you a deal. Bring up your grades, pay attention in Church, and get your hair cut, then we'll talk about it.

After about a month, the boy again asked about the car. The father said, "I'm really proud of you, son. You've raised your GPA, you are very attentive at Mass, but I notice you still didn't cut your hair.

The young man waited moment before replying. "You know Dad, I've been thinking. Samson had long hair. Moses had long hair. Noah had long hair. Even Jesus had long hair."

His father replied, "Yes, and they walked everywhere they went!"

and sending you off with one that will make you say, "Awwwwwwwwww . . ."



Have a great weekend!

Upon that Mountain

Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Ascension of Jesus. We recall Jesus’ return to his Father in heaven. The end of Matthew's Gospel is used for this feast. Jesus' last words to the disciples.

This got me thinking about a conversation I had with a friend. She was just notified that a relative had an accident and the prognosis is grim. By a strange coincidence, the two spent time together last weekend. They shared laughter, talked about family memories, and enjoyed each other's company. Neither imagined that the words they spoke would be the last they would share. As she recalled their time together, I heard her grasping for even the slightest recalled phrase or spoken word. It was important to her to remember. What we say to each other matters, most especially when the words are our last.

Christ must have known this human attachment to words. That's why I believe these last few lines he spoke to the disciples were not your average goodbye. Within them, I believe he intended to leave a lasting impression to carry them and us through many lifetimes.

“All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.”

In other words, Everything that happened here was for a reason. Don't hold these times selfishly for yourself. Go tell others. Let them in on the gift. Let's face it. These disciples have gone through a lot to get to this point on a mountain in Galilee, a whirlwind of change in just three short years. Leaving behind families, jobs, and communities, they followed a traveling preacher. They watched him perform miracles and transform lives but also witnessed him being ridiculed, arrested, humiliated, and killed. In their grief they suffered. In his Resurrection they marveled. Now what do they do with the rest of their lives? Jesus chose his words carefully. Don't let this end here. You are changed forever. Go out and change others.

While his first words were for their heads--a kind of job description, the last were for their hearts.

“And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.”

These are the ones our humanity struggles with most. The disciples' must have, too. For as we know our friends and family members, they knew Jesus. They knew the sound of his voice. They could see the lines on his face when he smiled. They knew the melody of his laugh and the rhythm of his sigh. They must also have known the struggle people have to remember these things once a loved one is gone. So again, Jesus spoke the words they, and we, needed to hear.

He reminded them, I will always be with you. No longer confined to time and place, I am forever a part of you. Like for us when we come together with family to remember a loved one, the disciples would remember Christ in their shared experiences. But he was offering them more than just that. Jesus would remain a living presence in the community of the Church that they would build and grow in the world. He would remain a Real Presence in the Eucharist, and stay forever a companion to all who opened their hearts to him. He would forever be a part of their lives and come to be a part of ours, as well.

I am with you always--comforting last words that are really just a beginning.

Change Isn't Easy

I mentioned a week or so ago that I would spend some time over the next few Wednesdays sharing specific changes that Catholics will notice at Mass as we start using a newly revised Roman Missal beginning Advent 2011. From this point on, we shall call this recurring feature ROMBOC (ROman Missal BOot Camp). I personally think everything sounds more interesting and fun when given an acronym.

During these months leading to the transition, training is taking place to acquaint priests, music ministers, and other liturgical leaders with how the changes will impact the Liturgy. You may begin noticing opportunities within your own parish for formation of parishioners to help ensure the successful implementation of the new text. If not, you'll find these Wednesday sessions will ensure you're not caught off guard on the last weekend of November.

So, let's begin with a couple of examples of what the changes will actually look like.

Mass begins with the Greeting spoken by the priest. We're used to responding "And also with you," to the priest's "The Lord be with you." In the new missal, our response will change to "And with your spirit." This will change will recur each time we are prompted with "The Lord be with you," throughout the Mass.

Another change relates to the Confiteor, the prayer we pray at the beginning of Mass to confess our sins. The new words relate more closely to the Latin, mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. (I personally can't say these words without hearing Jimmy Buffet sing them in my head. All those familiar with the Fruitcakes album will understand this reference!)

Here is the revised Penitential Act, Form A

I confess to almighty God

and to you, my brothers and sisters,

that I have greatly sinned

in my thoughts and in my words,

in what I have done

and in what I have failed to do,

through my fault, through my fault,

through my most grievous fault;

therefore I ask blessed Mary ever-Virgin,

all the Angels and Saints,

and you, my brothers and sisters,

to pray for me to the Lord our God.

Take some time to reflect on how these changes feel. They might seem a bit disorienting at first, but be patient with yourself. Consider this, perhaps the new language will help you refocus your thoughts and reflect more deeply on the meaning behind the words. Change is rarely easy, but it is often good.