Today was Independence Day! We sisters met at the Sisters of Notre Dame Center in Whitehouse for lunch and an afternoon of fun. The sisters living there spread a delicious picnic—each of the four “houses” providing part of the menu: burgers and hot dogs, potato salad and chips, fruits and veggies, desserts. The occasion was very life-giving. Like patriotic flowers, we felt red, white, and bloom. Yes, bloom. Our petals were uplifted by the community spirit, our stems invigorated by the hospitality, and our roots sunk deeper in the love we hold for each other. Board games and card games, swimming, paddleboat rides and golf cart rides, talking and more talking.  No dearth of fun when the Sisters gather from near and far.

What do you radiate? The electromagnetic field of the heart is about 5000 times more powerful than that of the brain. When our hearts are holding joy and love, the brain is less likely to focus on worry and stress. Instead, the brain focuses on love, empathy, creativity, and joy. Because the heart’s electromagnetic signal can be felt and measured 6-10 feet away, one person’s heart rhythm affects the heart rhythms of others nearby. Our spiritual gifts of the Spirit—charity, joy, peace, patience, and many more—can bring those same virtuous feelings to those nearby.

I just finished reading Camron Wright’s novel based on a true story, The Orphan Keeper. A child stolen from India and living over 20 years in the United States senses his need to return to a place that’s a half-globe away. Wright’s page-turner tells of loneliness, abandonment, and loss of identity. The reader senses that the main character cannot reach his full human potential until he becomes connected with his origin. Connecting with his roots, he becomes more fully human. We, too must see ourselves related to everyone and everything. We grow in the context of community so as we participate in more gatherings—parties, reunions, neighborhood picnics county fairs. Let these opportunities to connect help us become more fully human, more our real selves that are related to everyone and everything in the mystery of God’s Creation and Incarnation. In the new creation is the fullness of Christ, which is all humanity and creation bound in a union of love.

At the Last Supper one of the disciples was privileged to recline on the breast of Jesus, as the group enjoyed the Passover meal. This person was “the one whom Jesus loves.” Because Jesus loves everyone, every person is privileged to recline on Jesus, to experience such intimacy. This Last Supper is not the passage chosen for the Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus on Friday, June 16. But it could have been. The gospel chosen refers to the meek and humble of heart (Jesus himself) whose yoke is easy and burden light. But the passages also includes this line: “No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.” We are the “anyone,” so spend some time resting on the heart of Jesus. And look around. Everyone you see is also the “anyone” and “the one whom Jesus loves.”

Each day is a new frontier to traverse. Each morning presents a choice to become more fully Christ in our world. What the day holds for us we do not know. Feats of courage will require feet of courage. A humdrum day also demands the courage to slog through. Morning prayer and morning walks set the tone. Both afford glimpses of God. “Oh, it’s You, God!” Fortified by God-glimpses, we set out on our day. Stay alert to God-glimpses in lyrics, a text message, a chance encounter, a child’s question, another interruption, the next task. At night review the God-glimpses and praise and thank God.

Three of us sisters took a ride on a canal boat in Providence Park, Grand Rapids, Ohio. Like the old song, the mule’s name was Sal, and Sally had a helper in Molly. The period costumes, the authentic 14-foot wide boat in a 15-foot wide canal, and the 1870’s jargon made an enjoyable ride at the amazing speed of 4 miles per hour. It took a lot of ingenuity to create locks to provide the level of water needed to keep the boat afloat. The hard work of digging the canal brought prosperity to Ohio as it provided materials and animals to “distant” cities in just a few days. Can you imagine a canal boat carrying two dozen hogs to the next town?

As a musician at St. Patrick Providence, Grand Rapids, I know our parish is the oldest parish in Ohio, and the church was built by Irish immigrants and staffed by an Irish priest—hence the name St. Patrick Church. Perhaps my loved ministry at St. Patrick Church may never have happened to me had it not been for the canal.

Today’s newspaper ran an article about a new study that says Earth has pushed past seven of eight safety limits and is “really quite sick right now.” All this has happened in my lifetime of seven decades. But Earth and the rest of the universe took 13.8 billion years to create. I hope God doesn’t feel he wasted his time creating Planet Earth with its millions of species and still undiscovered wonders. It makes me think of opening a Christmas present that gets broken on the same day or wolfing down a fine cooked meal in three minutes. Couldn’t we show God a little more appreciation? And I don’t mean stopping to smell the flowers. We need to beg forgiveness of the Creator of the Universe—and beg forgiveness of coral reefs and ozone layer and whales and butterflies and every species that has or is becoming extinct. Above all, we need to realize that we’re all in this together—nothing higher or lower, more or less—in creation. The suffering and extinction of insects, flowers, trees, and every created being to which I have contributed by my waste or neglect is contributing to my own suffering and extinction. Everything is in this together on Planet Earth, our common home. Everything contains God’s creative love. Let’s show a little more appreciation.

I just finished reading Camron Wright’s novel based on a true story, The Orphan Keeper. A child stolen from India and living over 20 years in the United States senses his need to return to a place that’s a half-globe away. Wright’s page-turner tells of loneliness, abandonment, and loss of identity. The reader senses that the main character cannot reach his full human potential until he becomes connected with his origin. Connecting with his roots, he becomes more fully human. We, too must see ourselves related to everyone and everything. We grow in the context of community as we participate in more gatherings—parties, reunions, neighborhood picnics county fairs. Let these opportunities to connect help us become more fully human, more our real selves that are related to everyone and everything in the mystery of God’s Creation and Incarnation. In the new creation is the fullness of Christ, which is all humanity and creation bound in a union of love.

Recently a minister ended his talk at a funeral with this message delivered vehemently: “Don’t stop using the name of the deceased. The family needs to hear it.” While we may think not mentioning the deceased will prevent grief, it has the opposite effect. The loved ones think the deceased is forgotten. Speak the name. “Meghan would have been 70 today.” “I made Meghan’s favorite dish.” “I’m going to give one of Meghan’s necklaces to my neighbor.” “I bet Meghan would appreciate such a beautiful day as this.” “That song reminds me of Meghan.”

I love picnics. I love to plan them. I love packing the basket. I love finding a table in the perfect spot. I love the breeze on my face. I love looking around at sky, trees, and other picnickers. The best part of a picnic occurs after the food is eaten and the lighter basket taken home. It’s the “doggy-bag” of happiness, that leftover that will last until tomorrow or even many days to come without refrigeration.