Why November is my favorite month

The month of November has arrived in Boston with temperatures that reached close to 70 degrees. It was a quite comfortable day. A pleasant weekend is on tap with continuing sunshine and warmth. November is often maligned and I want to share the reasons it is my favorite month.

As a photographer, I look for the best lighting to take photos. During a single day, the hour around dawn and dusk are the best times for lighting. One can capture plays of light and its accompanying shadows, and the best views of our world are captured during this time. Well, November is the dusk of the year, and therefore, it is a Golden month because of its lighting. The sublime lighting creates a reflective, subdued atmosphere that brings our thoughts to the divine.

With the angle of the sun creating softer lighting, we see that the foliage and landscape is quite rich. While October is often bold and brilliant, November's colors are sophisticated and varied, particularly located within scenic New England. We see tones and hues of browns, fading reds and yellows, and darker oranges. The golden strands of decorative grass accentuate the earthtones in pleasant complimentary arrangements. It is a choice artist's palette. It creates a peacefulness that the earth is in agreement with itself. It's time of change is over and the world can come to a place of rest, silence, and stillness.

For Christians, the celebrations of All Saints Day and All Souls Day inaugurate the month of remembrance of All Souls, incorporating Veterans Day, a national day of memorial, and a time of thanks, the great feast of gratitude. We become more greatly attuned to the world around us, the world of the living and the dead, reminding ourselves that all are alive to God. It is a month of goodwill where we find our rightful place in the rhythm of the world that belongs to a Creator God. We are reminded of our mortality and see it as a natural occurrence in life. 

It is true that the clocks revert to standard time and we set our clocks back an hour that ushers in more darkness in the afternoon while gaining more daylight in the morning hours. Darkness seems to encroach and many people are reluctant to go outdoors for walks. When we befriend the darkness, we find there is so much life continues. In fact, we need the darkness to see the lights that are set up for Advent and Christmas as the last week of the month brings about wonder and delight as people decorate for the holidays. Mostly, we do not notice the darkness for long. 

Many people say that the month is windy and cold. Sure. We can have days of blustery winds, but it is warmer than people think. We might feel a biting wind while watching a football game, but the mistake is in not dressing warmly enough in the first place. Look at people as they go through November. They slow down, they walk through piles of crunchy leaves, they catch the twirling oak leaves while watching v-shaped parades of Canada geese, and they enjoy warm days drinking cider, hot chocolate, and pumpkin lattes. People enjoy the month more than they admit. 

November is a month of slowing down and taking deep breaths. We begin the month with All Saints Day, we get a day off to honor our military veterans, and then we take a collective pause for Thanksgiving Day. After our deep inhale, we turn our excitement to the holiday season and the joy associated with being with family and loved ones. 

November is easily my favorite month. 

I made a contract

As I was driving to an event from Dorchester to South Boston today, a sentence entered my mind. It was "I made a contract." I made a contract with society that I would keep my neighbor safe. This thought affects my driving and other aspects of my life.

I was at a red traffic light, and a woman in a SUV was positioned to my right. As the light turned green, she took off with great speed, and I said to myself, "I made a contract." A traffic stop sign was a short distance ahead. She and I both approached it, but she was far in front of me, and she did not slow down. She passed through the stop sign, perhaps because she was able to do so with getting caught. I stopped at the sign.

The next traffic light approached. It was green, then yellow, then red, for a few seconds, and she ran through it, and so did the car after her. I stopped and waited. 

I often want to say to people, "Wait your turn."

Just because you can disregard traffic signals doesn't mean it is the best thing for society. I made a contract with society. I have to choose what will make society run smoother. 

As I continued onward, another car parked half in a legal space and half in a prohibited space. If I were in that situation, I would find another parking space. I then watched a car zigzag down the side street swerving from left to right before he finally double-parked and walked into a brownstone. I made a contract that I would not block traffic for my own individual purpose. All in all, I traveled 3 miles. 

I would rather that driver slow it down on South Boston streets because you cannot tell when a pedestrian will appear in between cars to cross the road. I admit that many Bostonian pedestrians are brazen and entitled, but I made a contract to keep them safe.

I drive too fast at times on highways, and yet I try not to stay in the left lane except to pass. I do get annoyed when a car drives slowly in the left lane. I also get annoyed when people decide not to communicate with me by using one's directionals. Why would you not want to tell me that you are going to suddenly change lanes by using your signals? Often you put me in harm's way. 

I could take liberties as others do, but I made a contract with society when I got my license. I could disregard rules and get away with it, and I would not feel proud. I want to feel proud of society and each person's commitment to making society protect others. 

17th. Annual Agape Fundraiser

 This is an organization from a high school friend, Lynne Guhman Voggu, who left the financial industry to set up an AIDS orphanage in India. She is holding a fundraiser in Brookline, MA on October 14th. I hope you consider a donation of any size.  

17th. Annual Agape Fundraiser Agape AIDS Orphanage

Such Goodness

When I arrived at Greenport, Long Island two weeks ago, my friends took me to Aldo's Coffeehouse, the flagship store for their enterprising business. Aldo, the owner, has incredibly white wispy hair that has become a trademark of the coffee. The place is a roasterie for coffee that is sold nationally and internationally. They also sell crispy croissants and scones - no variety, just one type, and they are quite good. The roasting of the eans attracts the best coffee connoisseur to the cafe for a moment of goodness. 

After we received our order, we decided to sit outdoors in the back patio that was elevated by 1x4 wooden slats. The aroma of roasted coffee wafted through the roof and settled upon us refreshingly. John sat across from me while Renee rose to get some napkins. As John was talking, he lowered his arm and I saw something move, but I did not know what happened because it was all so quick. John panicked as his wedding ring flew off his finger and in between the slats. He could not imagine how it happened as he was not fiddling with it and it did not easily slide over his knuckles. He just lowered his arm and his ring slipped off. Underneath the slats were piles of leaves that accumulated over time.

John, Renee, and I got on our knees with our phone flashlights to see if we could spot the ring. Nothing. No signs. Finally, Don, a handyman worker at the shop noticed what we were doing and came over to ask questions. He rose and went into action. He retrieved a pry bar and hammer and he started lifting the slats that were affixed professionally to the base. He lifted up the first bar and saw nothing. He lifted up the second one and the ring that denoted 38 years of marriage was sitting upon a leaf as if it were waiting to be re-discovered. John and Renee so happy. 

Don refused any expression of gratitude except to receive words of thanks. He did not have to go above and beyond in his level of service, but he made one couple very happy. We were all left with this immense feeling of goodness that permeates the world and such positive memories of being helped by a good soul. 

Fall 2022 Class: Compassionate Communications in times of Difficult Conversations.

 Fall 2022 Class: Compassionate Communications in times of Difficult Conversations.

 

Director: John Predmore, SJ

 

Start : September 14th 4:00 pm -5:00 pm

 

This Wednesday online afternoon series uses Zoom to teach us how to keep ourselves balanced in the midst of difficult conversations. We will examine what sort of information to take in, and to notice when conversations experience a power imbalance. We will negotiate and set boundaries, especially when dealing with someone else’s anger. We will review deep-breathing techniques to listen meaningfully and to develop understanding. We will learn how to use right speech to bring to sustain meaningful relationships.

 

The presentations will last 50 minutes, and the time will be interaction and responsive to the needs of the participants.

 

Register for the series, come when you can, drop out when you necessary. 

 

We will send you a reminder with the ZOOM information in the days preceding your event. You will need to have access to the ZOOM app on your computer or smart phone. (https://zoom.us/client/latest/ZoomInstaller.exe)

 

Dates:

 

            September 14^th

            September 28^th

            October 5^th

            October 19^th

            November 2^nd

            November 16th

Getting Over Jet Lag

 I'm back in Boston and getting over jet lag well enough. I have a lot of work to do so it is keeping me moving forward. The weather has been hotter than in the Middle East, but at least we have air conditioning in the house. 

I realized that when I was in Jordan, I did not often tune into the television, mostly Al Jazeera or the BBC, and it was like the old nightly news when you ran to catch it at 6:30 p.m. and you were done for the night. In the U.S., the news is all around all the time. And, so, I tuned out and shut it off.

As I was in the car yesterday, I turned on the radio and realized how much I missed it. I usually listen to talk radio. Unfortunately, it did not hold much interest for too long. The Sports Radio guys were yelling about each other about something inane so I turned to another station that talked about the pros and cons of shutting down the Orange rail line for a month. The conversation went on for too long so I turned that off as well. The only station I could leave on was Classical Music. I realized how much I missed good music, but all in all, I prefer silence.

Tragically, a 22 year old man died in a freak accident in Wyoming on an outdoor living certificate program. He graduated from BC High four years ago, just graduated from university, was getting his final experiments completed with his program when he was struck by lightning while tenting.

I visited friends in Duxbury, Massachusetts to say hello before visiting a retired Douglas High School teacher who is suffering from a major illness. 

The Red Sox have tanked and there is news that the Patriots offense is struggling. Summer is in full swing and these are easy carefree days for many. 

St. Ignatius Day

So, here it is, my last few hours in the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan and it is the Solemnity of Ignatius of Loyola. I know that Ignatius, (a name that means 'fire') had his heart set of living in the Holy Lands as his heart was set on fire for the Lord. I find it delightful that I get to be in the Holy Lands as Ignatius desired on his memorial day. 

He desired to "save souls" and to let people know of God's hope for each person. He saw the dignity in the Royalty as well as the destitute and the outcast. He saw a vision of the world as the God of mercy. The time of Ignatius was during the initial years of the Protestant Reformation and the discovery of the lands in the Americas, Africa, and Asia. He provided the world with "The Spiritual Exercises," a course of prayer that have healed souls over the centuries. By right, he ought to be a Doctor of the Church because of the wholeness and holiness he brought others.

So, I sit here with a few hours left in the Hashemite Kingdom and I'm soaking in the many graces I received during my time here. Ignatius asks us to let the graces sensibly wash over us as if they were physical, so that we deeply get the sense that God is showering us with blessings. The midday sun is strong and it is cool in the residence's garden level. The Jesuit Superior and I shared a celebratory lunch together, as lunch is the major meal of the day.

At this point, I have mass to say at 6:00 p.m. and we will have homemade brownies, donuts, and other pastries following the meal. I'm packed and ready to go to the airport, which will happen hours from now. I marvel at modern transportation. I'll head to the airport at 10:30 p.m. for a 2:30 a.m. flight to Doha, Qatar, with a 2.5 hour connection, which is just the right amount of time. The plane leaves Doha at 8:00 a.m. and I am back in Boston at 2:30 pm. All in all, a 19 hour flight complete in 12 hours. Jet lag is worse traveling from West to East, so I've done the worst part of the time adjustment.

So, here I wait and pray. I remember all who have entrusted prayers to me and many people who did not ask, but I still included them. All is good. All is calm. I'll spend the time breathing in the air of this land and breathing out deeply so that I appreciate all the goodness I have received.

Happy Ignatius of Loyola Day, my friends. I hope you enjoy this summer feast. 

A Last Supper

As this is a long weekend Islamic holiday in the Kingdom, I took a walk to Abdali Mall. I like it in the early morning when people are gathered at outdoor restaurants to breakfast. It is quite and peaceful for a Saturday and people seem to be in a good mood.

On the way up the hill to make a crossing to the next road, I finally saw my old barber. He is an elderly Syrian man who hasn't changed much over the years. I sang to him the Syrian national anthem, "Biktub" and he sang along with me without reservation. He then pointed out to me the priest who lives across the street as he was coming out of his house. The priest looked well groomed and prosperous. When I was leaving Jordan eight years ago, he gave me a pair of scissors as a gift. I thought that was very thoughtful. He gave me an essential part of who he is.

As I walked up the road, I marveled at some of the interior gardens of businesses and residences. The people seem to have a special relationship with their flowers and trees. Some people really like when pine trees are growing outside their windows. It gives them Zen moments where they just breathe deeply. Often they may have a tiny plot of land at the entrance to their house or on their patio, but they tenderly care for these plants as they become part of the family.

As I was not in a sure to get to the Boulevard, I noticed several young men pass by me. What is clear is that many people where functional cologne and lots of it. The reasons are understandable but it makes me want to only wear perfume instead of cologne when I return home. The differences are major. 

Abdali Boulevard was sleepy, just the way I like it. It is akin to being at Quincy Market in Boston at 8:00 a.m. when the buskers have not yet reached their kiosks. There's also promise in the air about expectations and hopes for the day. Most of the people who visit the Boulevard during these hours are either hotel visitors or residents of the luxury apartments. 

Children seem to light up when I wave to them. They sometimes shout out their names to tell me who they are as their parents politely bring them over to say hello. Starbucks and Contra Coffee are the two big coffee sellers, so I make sure I go into an Arabic coffeehouse to get a specialty made cappuccino or my favorite, a flat white, both decaf.

 Mass at St. Mary's Sweifieh was quite good. The church is becoming filled again as people are returning from COVID protocols. Many have taken vacation and now feel that travel and going outdoors is easy enough. It is nice to see the church at near capacity. There will be a new Arabic pastor and I think he will be a good fit for the parish. He is kind, gentle, and wise, and the people need that. If there is a deficit in the church life in Amman, it is that the church often does not teach people to pray. I think people need to be introduced to Ignatian Spiritual Direction.

Last night we had many visitors to the Church again, and we provided donuts to celebrate the Solemnity of St. Ignatius of Loyola who died on this date in 1556. We said the eighth day of the Novena and many were very happy with the prayers I put together for them. I fared them well and I said goodbye and people were upset that I was not staying longer. 

During Mass, I kept thinking to myself, almost gleefully: Ignatius wanted to get to the Holy Land to live and say Mass. Here I am living and saying Mass in the Holy Land. I offered my mass for his intentions and to share with him the joy of being in the place he longed to be.

Afterwards, some friends and I went to an Italian restaurant that was quite good. It naturally was outdoors and the food was well presented and well prepared. The chef was from Italy and he trains a number of people how to prepare Italian food, not the Arabic way, but the Italian way. The results are quite good. My steak filet was almost medium rare, the pumpkin ravioli were homemade, the tuna and greek salad was tasty, the cheese plate was drizzled with extra virgin olive oil, and the bresciola was a highlight. All was prepared to high standards and it was topped off with homemade gelato. The pistachio was better than I anticipated. 

I sat eating under the stars, with tall pines to serenade us, mosaics on the way, with ambient lighting while having fun conversations with good friends. It does not get better than this. It was a splendid way to honor St. Ignatius and the good people of the Holy Lands.

Money, money, money

Money. This is always a complicated subject, especially how we obtain it and how we spend it. As we are the church, there are some expectations built up about the church sponsoring the livelihoods of different people, who were marginalized and sidelined from mainstream society. It is always difficult to know how and when to support those in need. 

Many come to the church because there has been a tradition of giving away money, and people know the church to be charitable. This is when the church is at its best and worst at the same time. Some people take advantage of the church's generosity and know how to play a system to their advantage and they take advantage of opportunities. Some are quite deceitful while others are truly in need. Some know which support systems to befriend and often they befriend many of the same types. The stories are all sad and some of them might even be true. 

There are professional beggars who learn from an early age that their job in life is to go from one support system to another. They do quite fine and are often found in the downtown cafes with their argilla and sustaining meals. They have a range of stories to share and they depend upon a network of do-gooders who will respond to their outward stories without knowing the deeper stories behind them. 

Some know which priests have softer hearts and are generous with donations, whether it is from their personal money or from the church. Often, people will make a relationship with you so that you know them and believe their stories and continue to support their narrative. The bottomline is that it takes constant discernment to know which stories are true and which people are really in need of help.

While it is true that many people on the margins have been put into a system that taken advantage of them, some of those people exploit the church and learn to get what they want. I hear so many stories of people getting wrapped up in paying the rent or electricity for those in supposed need, while the rent is being paid by another source. Co-dependencies are built and a false narrative of exploitation continues, often with the church or people of goodwill getting fleeced. I'm glad I don't have to make these decisions today.

Years ago as pastor, I stopped the cycle of dependency. There had been a policy in place that if a certain person needed to return home at a different time than the contract stated, the wealthy parishioners would pay for it, or if a parishioner continually declined to pay for insurance, the wealthier parishioners would be called upon to pay for someone's operation. Therefore, people would refuse to pay insurance because it was not needed. I sent a message: buy your own insurance. In many cases, overseas workers would send generous amounts of money home and would not invest in their own health care or needs. When a need arose, one asks the parish priest to pay.

The church needs to be in a place of generosity and goodness, but it also has to vet the true narrative to be of special help. Giving money is seldom the answer, but helping people obtain resources, learn new skills, invest wisely, or get a new job is a way to solve the problems. While I maintained openness to deal with crisis issues, I needed to pass it to the parish council who could be involved in the process of determining the need and the actual components of the story. It seems like a fairer way of using parishioners' resources, which were limited. 

Ah, the continuing discernment of how to use church money for the greater good. It is a story that will be told and retold each time a new person is in charge of the policies. May we find a way to provide the most needed help to those who truly need it. Sometimes it is through financial donations; most of the times it is by helping people achieve financial stability through the improvement of their own lives. 

Martha, Mary, and Lazarus

The greatest value in the church is not truth, but unity, and yet it does try to make amendments for its errors. Pope Francis visited the Indigenous peoples of Canada show brilliantly how the church and state can work together to correct its faults. The quality of the apology that Pope Francis made appeared genuine and is regarded as a first step in a long process of healing. The church really does try to make amends for the wrongs it has done.

The church is doing that with the portrayals of some of the women in the bible. Last week, we celebrated the feast of Mary Magdalene. A sermon by Pope Gregory in the seventh century conflated the sinful woman of Luke Gospel to Mary of Bethany and Mary Magdalen. Recent efforts have undertaken the rehabilitation of Magdalene's reputation forever stained by a careless sermon. 

Today's feast was also an attempt to separate and draw distinctions between the two Marys because this was the feast of St. Martha, sister of Mary, while Mary's feast day was last week. The church now calls this day the memorial of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus of Bethany, while last week's was clarified to refer to Mary of Magdala. It is important to make these distinctions because the wrong use of words can hurt our understanding of people. Thankfully, the church is trying to get it right after two centuries. Thank you, Pope Francis.

Yesterday, I continued my endeavor to clear out the community freezer where food had been stored for far too long and forgotten. I cooked some ground beef into hamburgers, which we did not have a chance to eat because the part time house cleaner ate the. I also baked some chicken with onions and garlic, and the house smelled so much like home this morning. We found some vegetables, which I thawed and tossed, and some cheeses that had been stored for far too long. The refrigeration is colder than what we use in the states and frozen foods last a lot longer, but still.....    Anyways, the freezer is cleared out.

Yesterday, we had to tend to the wounds of a Jesuit who checked on the honey bees in the garden. He bumped the hive that caused the bees to get angry, and he got stung on the top of his ear. With the stinger removed, he healed quickly with some application of vinegar and garlic. ~ The U.S. student that was hospitalized boarded a flight for the U.S. and happily returned home to more comfortable quarters. All is good. BC did a fine job in connecting with her support systems.

This morning, I went to a friend's new apartment to bless her two story apartment. She sold her house and found a small, quiet apartment in a low traffic area. It is a quiet neighborhood. Though it is small, it is still a three bedroom apartment with a combined dining area and parlor. It is much larger than many apartments in the Boston area. It is quite spacious, but not too large. It is one third of the size of her current house and yet it will be more than comfortable. Her son with his two dogs will live on the floor above her. It is an ideal set up.

This afternoon I attended a lunch with the Filipinos in honor of the Founding saint of their Teresian order. Saint Povedo was a Spaniard who founded the Teresians in Cova Donga. We had tons of food and refreshments and tons left over. I told them that there have found a new Jebel in town and they are calling it Jebel John as they keep feeding me food. Fortunately, I'm eating mostly vegetables. As it is a Friday, the day off, the streets are quiet and all activity is low, which is good because it is reaching 99 degrees during the day. Still, the nights are the best!

This is a holiday weekend. I think it is tied to an Islamic New Year. Most people are out of town for vacation. Tomorrow and Sunday we will celebrate the Ignatian feast day with donuts at the end of Mass. I'm fitting in some meetings, and as usual, there is a constant movement of people into and out of the area, because this is Jordan, a special place in the Arab world and a strategically important place to the West. If we could only find a way to bring some rain to this parched land. 

Fruit of the Vine

I have begun my packing process as I prepare for my home trip. My next door neighbor in the Jesuit Community left for Lebanon and then Egypt. He is an Egyptian who will be ordained a deacon in the Latin Church within the year and mostly likely to the priesthood next summer. We have had a good time together as we learned about each other's families and cultures. He liked the baked goods that I so often made. The Society of Jesus is in good hands with men like him coming up through the system.

Yesterday, I was trying to visit an American student who was hospitalized for a minor health situation, but I was unable to get there because this student was to be released an hour after my anticipated arrival to the hospital. We have kept in touch, and this student will have an earlier than planned back to Boston College.

Last night, I met friends in the Abdoun section of town for a wine and cheese reception. This friend sold her house and will vacate it by the end of August, so this was her last chance of having an event at the house she really loved. Her husband died around 7 years ago and now the house is a little to large for her. She and her son will live in a nearby section of town in a downsized two story apartment, and it will be quite lovely for them. I will do the apartment blessing on Friday. 

We had all sorts of bread, and my favorite was the Chia square. As a Lebanese woman with Francophone tendencies, the cheese were top of the line French delicacies. We had Brie, Goat cheese, truffles, port wine, and a few others to match the tasty meats and charcuterie plate and fresh fruit. Life is good when there is cheese and wine. Since the temperature was hot during the day, we imbibed white wines, and it was just lovely to sit on the veranda and engage in wide-ranging conversations. 

The family had two dogs, which is a rarity because many people are afraid of dogs. The golden retriever is on his last legs with hip problems and arthritis, but with an affectionate, youthful spirit. Another dog is a rescue dog with the most attractive dog eyes. It naturally is skittish, and I was told that the dog would not come to me because it fears people because of its past mistreatment. Mostly, the dog stayed nearby but far enough away from us for safety, but the family was amazed because twice the dog came to me to be petted. 

It was a lovely evening with a touch of sadness as I begin to bid adieu to this fascinating kingdom. 

Culture: the touching of hearts and minds and human freedom

 I could get used to this. I had dinner with wonderful friends at their family home and I was so energized by the conversation. The meal was incredible and the company was absolutely delightful. More on this later.

I started out the day speaking about the other grandparents of Jesus at mass, the paternal grandparents of Jesus, who are never mentioned. It was incredibly well received and the prayers of the faithful were spirited with loving remembrances of one's own grandparents.

From there I walked to Jebel Webdeih to visit the Jordan National Gallery of Fine Arts, which was established in 2005 by the present King. They are two fine buildings opposing each other and separated by verdant park. It is a quiet, peaceful area to sit. I wish I discovered it sooner as I would have brought a container of coffee and ready some books there. I think I'm ready for novels as I've been reading heavy stuff lately - death and evolution.

The first building I entered had four levels of gallery space and houses the temporary collection. It features a Jordanian woman who does a lot of soft pastels and watercolors. She focuses upon the feminine and her work contains subtle movements of women's bodies. It was distinctive in that it celebrated women in ways that are not often depicted in contemporary society in the central and east parts of Amman. Many pictures were of flowers and vases that showed softness that is yearned for but not received.

The second building houses the permanent collection and has three levels of gallery space. I found this wing intriguing for various reasons. Most of their work contains heavy elements of black; most also contain some orange as well. The black reminded me of what I thought was being conveyed: repressed anger, low self-esteem, frustration and they yearn for the flourishing of human freedom. The titles were also a bit rough and it may be that it is merely the translation into English. 

The part I found fascinating was that the gallery exhibited artists from Tunisia, Sudan, Indonesia, Bahrain Lebanon, Qatar, Baghdad, and other regions from the Arabic speaking world. There is a question of referring to it as Arabic or Oriental, and Oriental is preferred. An Arab refers to people who live on the Arabian Peninsula - Jordan, Saudi Arabia, the Gulf States. Iranians are not Arabs, nor are the Turks. The Iraqi do not consider themselves Arabs, nor do the Syrians, Lebanese, or even the Palestinians. Certainly not the Egyptians. They have the Arabic language that holds it together, but there are so many variations that it is a challenge for people to understand others' uses of words.

Jordan is much like the U.S. in that it is a melting pot, except no one in either country melts. Jordan welcomes people from different regions and has great tolerance for the cultural differences. Jordanians themselves comprise a small segment of the population. All are welcome, and each contributes to the local economy. The Jordanian Gallery of Fine Art contained some Jordanian artists, but most paintings are from other people who lives in the region. 

The top floor of the second building contains a vast art library, a museum store, and an indoor/outdoor coffee house and tea room. It is quite charming with views that look over Abdali and Jebel Hussein and the Jesuit Centre. From this vantage point, one can see that much of Amman is rooftop living. People love to be outdoors in the cool air without any bugs and with a beautiful night sky. Just lovely. There are lots of homing pigeon cages on rooftops as well. 

Dinner was at a friend's house. I've known him from my association with Dozan wa Awtar. His daughter is a gifted opera singer in France where she is expecting her first child in a couple of months. My friend would attend our concerts and he is a culture vulture. He has always supported my art career and he considers me better than I am.

The dinner guests were quite cultured and educated. We were wishing the French ambassador goodbye as her time in Jordan had finished. The new Italian ambassador joined us as did an official from the Spanish embassy. The CEOs of construction companies joined us, as did Bank presidents, and other movers and shakers. We had the types of conversations that are meaningful and thought provoking. It was very clear that the people love Jordan and desire to live nowhere else but in this country. The Jordanian nights are sublime and people in West Amman are quite literate, accomplished, and invested in the development of the region. I relished the conversations as they were very thoughtful and wide-reaching. I could get used to life in diplomatic circles.

I felt embarrassment and shame as well. As the sole American, I am fluent in English, while most others have Arabic, English, French, Italians, Spanish, Latin, Romanian, Russian, Greek, and German as languages in which they are versatile. I felt my language poverty. How I wish I could be as conversant as the are. Living overseas expands one's worldviews and makes one more accepting of other cultures and expressions. Their lives are far richer also because they have almost an innate grasp of world history. I find these people quite fascinating. This night brought me far from the world far different from experiences in Central Amman and into a world of culture and great thoughts. It was a night of celebration, fine food, mixed spirits, laughter and sorrow, hopes and dreams, and conversations that moves hearts towards greater solidarity. These are the nights people yearn for, moments of happiness and understanding, times of connection and understanding. I could get used to this.

All the while, the news channels report on the Pope's visit to Canada to address the wrong ways that church and state have harmed people over its missionary ideology.

Life is good. Life is meaningful, and it is beautiful when we can touch hearts and minds and souls. 

Crumz and the Taj Mall

I go out in the morning as it is still cool and tolerable walking up and down hills that would cause perspiration in the Northeast U.S. This morning I went to the Museum of Old Signs because I heard people refer to it affectionately. It was certainly a pleasant experience and I was able to chat with two of the museum curators, though in a limited fashion. They were very proud of the museum. I tried offering a tip to support the free museum but they didn't understand my intention.

I think the oldest sign is from 1947 and it contains some interesting features. Amman is still a young city, maybe 90 years old and it really began to develop after the Nakba, the forced exile of Palestinians from their land into Jordan. The Palestinians and Jordanians are quite different people, but they are siblings in their concern for the land that was taken from them. The city is now the fifth largest Arab city and has strategic importance to the West and in its relationship to its Arab neighbors.

After visiting the museum, I went to some of the small shops in the downtown area and I wandered through alleys. Some alleys are like districts. There is a district for gold, one for silver, some for fabrics, another for car parts, and there are various mens and womens shops. They have shops of elegantly individually wrapped chocolates and sweets, tons of watered down perfume, baubles, and childrens toys, nuts and dates, and seafood restaurants. It is quite a happening place and people do enjoy being there.

After the shopping excursion, I went back to Darat Al Funum because the interior portion of the museum was closed when I went there last week. The exhibit is on sustainability and ways to create vibrant green pastures out of deserts. The soil in Jordan is actually quite fertile. It is just the 3rd poorest water nation in the world. 

The big question that I have is "Why do so many people smoke?" When one walks into a small shop, it is like walking into a smoking nightclub as there is smoke dust all around. The places wreak of tobacco. I can understand why one smoke argilla, because it is a social custom and it is an activity but far too many people here smoke cigarettes, vape, and use argilla. 

I know that children begin around 14 and no one seems to mind. I have never seen a logical explanation for the reason for smoking, so it just confuses me why people continue to smoke when they know it is harmful. Is it because they do not think it is harmful enough? Do they think they can quit? It is quite a challenge to quit in this culture when the smoking is pervasive. 

There does not yet seem to be a realization that some people do not like smoke, so people do not accommodate one's non-smoking preferences. They light up whenever and wherever. However, I did notice that in the newer malls, people vape but there is no outright smoking on the premises. A person can smoke in the cafes and restaurants (which I still don't like) but at least it is outdoors.

This evening I drove to a place called Crumz, because it was one of my places of respite eight years ago. It is quite a fine bakery just on the edge of town that caters to the wealthier West Ammanites. There is a non-smoking section and one can have a leisurely cup of coffee with some well-prepared bread or muffins or pastries. I was pleased to discover it is still there. Actually, most of the places that I frequented are still around, which must say something good about the economy.

I went to the Taj Mall afterwards. This Mall is built for the wealthy Saudis who come to Jordan for vacation. Their wives go shopping and you will find all the high end stores that are in expensive neighborhoods in the West. The Saudi Arabian embassy is right across the street so lots of exchanges happen in this area. I believe the Taj Mall is Iraqi owned and operated.

One of the most impressive features of Jordan is the mall parking lots. They are so clean and well attended with great lighting and no trash with wide lanes for parking and it is free. It is just amazing how they have developed a system that feels normal and is a pleasant parking experience. The roads are very good here too, though the drivers will often make a two lane highway into four.

As the Taj Mall is on the west side of the city, it draws a wealthier demographic. You will see many people wearing western clothing and just handing out. Some wear shorts and light tops, and you'll still find your share of covered people. I can see that the clothing that is worn makes a statement. If you are short, portly, and non-descript, but you wear a white robe with a sash around your head covering, it speaks of stature. In some ways, the same thing happens with some clerics in the U.S. as it is immediately recognizable and identifiable. I was noticing that about 3/5th of the people were uncovered, but that is lower than eight years ago. Once again, I was about to greet Sister with a big hello, until I realized that it was an Islamic outfit and not a Roman one.

Though there is Polo, Abercrombie, and all the big name shops, so many people still wear basic black. People dress in a way that does not represent the best of themselves, whether in Jordan or the U.S. With so much good clothing, wouldn't one want to dress nicely when they go outdoors?

And so, my one disappointment was that the Chinese Restaurant, P.F. Chang, has been replaced by Chuck E Cheese. However, there appears to be a fine appearing Italian restaurant tucked away from the crowds where a more subtle crowd gathers to dine. All in all, it was fun to revisit places that I've frequented and to marvel at how successful the economy remains. 

Off to start another drawing. Here is one that I tinkered with last night. I call it Loaves and Fishes.

The Gospel Makes sense here!

Today's Gospel reading is about persistence in prayer and it makes sense particularly in a place like the Holy Land because you can replicate the circumstances in ways that you cannot do it in the West. In the Gospel, it talks about a neighbor banging on your door in need of bread in the wee hours of the morning. the neighbor will persist until she gets what she wants. She will keep banging in her persistence, and it will be annoying, and it will be impolite, but her banging will make you get up and get her what she needs. 

It does not matter if you are sleeping and the matter can be addressed civilly later. She is at your door and wants you to answer now. It seems as if you cannot teach certain people politeness or civil manners. The now is what is important. Jesus tells us to be just as persistent in prayer. I do not expect that he condones the impolite behavior, as common as it is. I imagine that in biblical times there were not gates and locks as there is now.

So, this morning, a quiet Sunday morning, I went upstairs to wash the dishes before I showered and bgan my laundry. I was not presentable to the public world. There were two woman noisily chattering outside the window of the Jesuit Centre. It seemed as if they wanted to be heard. They heard a noise inside the house, through open the windows and said, "Let me in. I'm here and I have a program upstairs. Can you open the door?  Please open the door. It is hot, and I came early for the program." They sat in the sun while they could have moved under the arbor to get shade, but they sat there so they would not miss the priest who was coming for the program. 

I tried speaking but the two of them shouted over me, "Open the door." There could be no conversation. Because I was not presentable and I did not have keys on me, I tried asking them questions, "What time is your program? Who is leading it? What is it about?" They shouted, "So you can't open the door for me?" I asked, "Will the Abouna come to the program?" They shouted, "So you can't open the door?" I said, "Please wait for Abouna. He will come."

Dilemma. If I allow them to enter, I have to stay with them for at least half an hour while they set up the program. Not only that, I will have to provide for them what they need, which they do not find accessible. Turn on the lights, the air conditioning, close the shade, get them some hot water. Yes, their needs will be served, and on the flip side, my time and my needs do not matter to them. They are happy. 

Walls and fences make for good neighbors, and in parts of the city, one cannot easily access a neighbor's property. Since the Jesuit Centre has historically run various programs, people have a familiarity with the property and feel they have a right to access it when they need it. Perhaps they do, but the situation needs to be explained. There is also a sense that your private space can be easily violated. It gives insight into the lives of those who lives of many who may not feel like they have any space that is protected or sacrosanct. As the poor or people who are domestic workers, they have few rights or privileges in many situations, and there is no escaping the poor. 

The whole situation is disturbing. It is a frequent occurrence that people will lift their heads into windows to see if you are around, which always means that you are available to them, especially as priests. I don't know the circumstances around this morning's event, but for the most part, people do not plan. They have an idea and they show up and get you to be available. Sometimes, someone will say, "I've come to have confessions, and I will feel better if I do it now, and you are here now." They sometimes try to put you into a situation where you feel bad if you do not respond, and you cannot let yourself be put into that situation. You have to set boundaries. People are clever in trying to get you to give them what they want when they want it.

The other day, two children came by the Jesuit Centre on the Friday, a day when no programs are run and no one is in the house. They wanted small amounts of money. If you give it to them, they will come back; you know they are refugees and are sent by their parents, who make them sit outdoors in the sun all day in hopes of getting a couple of dinars. 

Some people are simply demanding, just like the Gospel says, because they know it works for them. For a priest not to give them what they want at the moment they want it, causes them to consider you a bad priest. I think the greater work here is to teach people politeness, to be able to set firm boundaries, to help them know the value of planning, and to build relationships that explains something about who they are and what their real needs are.

The point of the Gospel is to be that persistent in prayer, not in neighborly situations, but we have experience where people will be exacting and demanding. The Gospel shows us that we can be this raw, this forceful in our prayer. 

Wait Your Turn

Somehow, the desert climate tires a person out, but I had a restful sleep this morning knowing that I did not have to rise for early morning mass. It was just like a lazy Sunday morning when you've gone to Mass on Saturday evening.

I did celebrate the sacrament of reconciliation several times this week, but a memorable experience was when one person said, "This is my first time in four years. I've missed it so much." The expression of relief was just incredible. The other experiences were quite fine, but I appreciated the joy this person expressed in returning to the sacrament. Most times, this is the finest part of being a priest because you get to witness the exchange of grace so freely between the person and God.

In the late morning, a couple of the workers were trying to even out one of those shades that when you try to fix only one side elevates causing a frustrating mess. It took some effort, but they were able to do it fairly easily, but I had to laugh during another event. Jordan is really an outdoor climate and most of the times the windows to the Jesuit Centre are open with screens to keep insects out. Occasionally a bug finds its way into the house. Three of the guys were standing and looking at one of the insects that had flipped onto its back and was barely moving. They were speaking in Arabic so I could not tell what they were saying. Finally, I grabbed a tissue, pick up the bug, and threw it in the covered wastebasket. It was nearly dead. One of the guys protested, "Fr. John, Fr. John. You shouldn't have done that. We are trying to train this one man how to pick him up." Huh?

A few hours later, I made some rice and added packaged salmon flakes to it because it was an American product and the cook did not know what to do with it. It was quite tasty and so easy to make. It was those refrigerated salmon pouches that can be added to rice, pasta, salads, or thrown together with light mayonnaise for a sandwich. I think I am teaching people in the Centre about how to cook and to be adventurous. By the way, the chocolate cake with dark chocolate ganache tastes great.

One of the conversations around the Centre was about this person who often wants to help another person out of a sense of Christian charity. It really comes across as a person with a good heart. This is a person with a professional degree and practice and will see someone in need and ask, "Father, do you have ten dinars (dollars)? Give it to that person." At first it strikes you well that this person's heart is moved so fully to take care of the poor until you realize that this person will never give a cent! Around town, this person is known for one's charitable ways, so to speak. 

It takes time to get used to the Jordanian sense of time. People will show up at the Centre and because they are there and they have made the trip, they want you to be present for them immediately. Or they will call you on the phone and expect you to be available. For some, planning doesn't exist. The moment is now. I recall that during the last months I was in Jordan, I bought a seperate phone so that I could have personal contacts on one phone and parish contacts on the other. It was routine for someone to ring me seventeen times in a row to impress upon me that they wanted to speak with me. The time is now. That is what is important to a person who wants to reach you. Even on a Friday morning, which is the Sabbath, someone will call you at 7:30 a.m. so that you know they want to speak with you. Polite people would wait until after 10:00 a.m. This is such a curiosity.

When I went into Mass today, a woman saw me walking from the entrance of the church to the sanctuary, and she shouts out, "Father, I don't have a piece of paper." I said, "I know. I have them with me." She said, "Usually, I get a piece of paper in front of the church, and I don't have one." I said, "I know. The papers are with me. Did you see me just walk in?" Yes. Did you see me hold a bag? Yes. Am I still holding the bag? Yes, Am I still wearing my hat? Yes. Just then, another woman shouts out to her: Wait your turn. Be patient. Give him some time. You'll get your paper. I wanted to nominate that woman for canonization.

Wait your turn. I find myself saying that phrase often.

Mass went very well. I brought twenty-six extra copies of my homily because it was about practicalities around prayer. After mass, every copy was taken, and I ran out. People took my email so they could get a copy of it for their further reflection. I did not know I would hit the mark so well. 

https://predmore.blogspot.com/2022/07/persist-in-prayer-seventeenth-sunday-in.html

I had some very thoughtful conversations with people after mass, and I was delighted to meet again the wide range of people. 

Longtime friends from Jordan/U.S. invited me and Fr. Bimal for dinner at a nearby Italian restaurant. The atmosphere was so good and we sat outdoors because for nine months of the year, the evening are just perfect for outdoor dining. I've met with these friends in the U.S. and they are quite a lovely couple from Jordan. The wife's sisters are visiting and so they joined us. I had a baked bream (fish) wrapped in banana leaves, and it was succulent and cooked to perfection. The chocolate enclosed cinnamon mouse with orange shavings was the perfect way to end with a cappuccino. Two of the sisters split a fish that had been encrusted with Dead Sea Salt and had to be broken open in order to filet it. All the meals were quite lovely, but the best part was the varied conversations about meaningful topics. Somehow in Jordan, we are able to get to substantive issues right away. My heart goes out to so many people here who are trying to do the best with challenging circumstances.

I came home quite contented and rested knowing that there is so much good in the world and believing that goodness will always win out in the end, though it might be bruised and tarnished along the way. Good has to win out. There's so much of it and I just feel fortunate to behold so much of it each day.

A funeral

I awoke early this morning to get ready for the Mass honoring Mary Magdalene. Since gardens are rare and precious in the Middle East, I thought I would begin my homily on that note. Then I would talk about how Pope Gregory conflated Magdalene with the sinful woman and her history has never been the same again. My words were extricate her of that improper judgment. 

Speaking of gardens, I had a little visitor from yesterday's garden, After showering and dressing, I felt what might have been a spider on my neck and onto my hair. I flicked it away but I wasn't confident that I shooed it away. Maybe it was nothing at all. Your imagination takes over when you are in a foreign land for this spider felt massive, and one never knows if it is poisonous. I felt it again a minute later, and this time I knocked it off me. I was tiny and it did not look ferocious. It was maybe an eighth of an inch but it felt like three inches when I could not tell where it was. I laughed at what our minds can do.

After Mass, a friend stopped over for a coffee so I baked some medium-sized quiches and a chocolate cake. She left before they were ready, but the quiches were quite tasty, and the cake was cooked just the right amount of time. I was relieved. I planned to frost it later, and since the oven was hot, I baked some ready made meat pies for lunch because we only have a cook on Mondays and Wednesdays. 

Later on when I came back to frost the cake, I discovered we had half a stick of butter, so I had to improvise and I made dark chocolate ganache to cover the cake. The cake should go very well with ice cream.

During the afternoon, I altered my plans to attend a funeral of a friend's husband. I know this woman from Bible Study, and her husband had been suffering from terminal cancer. He died yesterday so the burial was today with some prayers in the church on Sunday when his son can return from the U.S. The poor man was in a coma for half a year.

The funeral was Orthodox and it was supposed to last ten minutes. Since this was a well connected family, many priests arrived, but as one priest pointed out, not one of them visited him in the hospital or her at the family home. The service lasted 40 minutes because they needed to earn their tip. 

The body was brought in and the top of the casket was removed. The chapel was at a funeral home octagonally shaped with an altar stone in the center. The chanting of the priests was quite moving and at points there were five point harmony. I had no idea what they were saying except Alleluia and Amin. They would occasionally used the thurifer to incense the body, the priests, and the assembly. This thurifer was quite cool because there are ceramic balls attached to it as the incensing must have sound with it. Most people like the smells and bells of church rituals. 

Few people attended the burial, and the reception line moved quite fast. Afterwards, a meal was to be held at the function hall at the Orthodox Church in Sweifieh. I was invited to the lunch, but I was told I would sit with the men and eat mansaf. I like mansaf, but it would have been awkward to sit in silence with people I don't know for an hour. I'll get to the prayer service on Sunday, and I'll get to see the women of the Bible Study group.

I had no idea where I was. I followed a GPS to the cemetery, which I think was northeast of Jebel Hussein, where I live. I did not recognize any place on this route. There was a tall building called the Mega Mall but it seemed like an old empty shell of a building. I did like the Christian cemetery though. It was comforting to see the crosses and statues that are so familiar to me. It is, however, in a part of town that is not well connected to the major centers. 

Afterwards, I came home and worked on a watercolor painting. After sketching a supposed scene of Baghdad with pen, I quickly threw down some watercolors. It was a bit fun. After I did that, I walked to Al Abdali Mall to get in my steps. It is alway better to go in the evening. On my way, I met a man walking a dog. I had seen them before so I stopped and asked it I could pet their dog, whose name is Lucky. He was delighted, and so was Lucky. Lucky's coat was very soft and he was a mid-sized dogs. Most Muslims do not like to have dogs around, but I see more and more of them that are cared for well-enough. I was glad to be able to pet Lucky.

I took a long walk to the Mall, passing by the Judicial Court, the Education Center, some other official buildings, and some barracks. I always greet the soldiers, who look so stern, and they their face changes when I greet them. I like seeing the smiles, and I hope it is a bright spot in their day as well. 

Novena to St. Ignatius of Loyola

 Novena to St. Ignatius of Loyola

Pray each day at home from July 23rd to July 31st

 

 

 

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

 

Opening Prayer (ALL): Lord, teach us to be generous. Teach us to love you and serve you as you deserve; to give and not to count the cost; to fight and not to heed the wounds; to toil and not to seek for rest; to labor and not to look for reward, except to know that we seek your will.

 

 

 

Lord Jesus, Eternal King, I feel your gaze on me. With the angels and powers martyrs and saints, I stand before you to heed your call. You have blessed me with holy desires, and I come before you to make my offering. Let it be my desire and my choice, if you want it, too, to live my life as you lived yours. You understand our joys and our suffering, and you call me to choose your Greater Glory. I will labor to bring God’s reign if you will give me the gift to do it. Here is the grace I seek from you today: 

 

 

(Mention your request here…)

 

(ALL): Father in heaven; give us today the same grace that Ignatius received – to know Jesus intimately – to love him more dearly – and to follow him more closely. Help us to remember that with Jesus as our model – we may be able to reveal him – in all we say and all we do. This we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With St. Ignatius we pray:

 

Soul of Christ, sanctify me.
Body of Christ, save me.
Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
Water from the side of Christ, wash me.
Passion of Christ, strengthen me.
O Good Jesus, hear me.
Within Your wounds hide me.
Never let me be separated from you.
From the malevolent enemy defend me.
In the hour of my death call me.
And bid me come unto You,
That with Your saints,
I may praise You forever and ever. Amen. 

 

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us today our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, and we forgive those who trespass against us. Do not let us be led into temptation but deliver us from evil. Amen. 

 

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

 

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen. 

 

Pray: The Suscipe

 

Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty,
my memory, my understanding, and my entire will,
All I have and call my own.
You have given all to me.
To you, Lord, I return it.
Everything is yours; do with it what you will.
Give me only your love and your grace, that is enough for me.

Novena Prayer to St. Ignatius of Loyola

To be prayed during Mass following the Intercessory Prayers.

July 23^rd to July 31st

 

 

Lord Jesus, Eternal King, I feel your gaze on me. With the angels and powers martyrs and saints, I stand before you to heed your call. You have blessed me with holy desires, and I come before you to make my offering. Let it be my desire and my choice, if you want it, too, to live my life as you lived yours. You understand our joys and our suffering, and you call me to choose your Greater Glory. I will labor to bring God’s reign if you will give me the gift to do it. Here is the grace I seek from you today: 

 

(Mention your request here…)

 

(ALL): Father in heaven; give us today the same grace that Ignatius received – to know Jesus intimately – to love him more dearly – and to follow him more closely. Help us to remember that with Jesus as our model – we may be able to reveal him – in all we say and all we do. This we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

 

With St. Ignatius we pray:

 

Soul of Christ, sanctify me.
Body of Christ, save me.
Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
Water from the side of Christ, wash me.
Passion of Christ, strengthen me.
O Good Jesus, hear me.
Within Your wounds hide me.
Never let me be separated from you.
From the malevolent enemy defend me.
In the hour of my death call me.
And bid me come unto You,
That with Your saints,
I may praise You forever and ever. Amen.

Accompaniment to Wadi Shatir

Much of Jesuit life is about accompaniment and I had a chance to do that with a summer outing for the people who attend functions at the Jesuit Centre. We were Somalis, Sudanese, Jordanians, Iraqi, Yemeni, Americans, Egyptians, and a few other places. 

We left for Wadi Shakir around 9:30 a.m. I know I misspelled the name of the place, but I know it is very near to Iraq al Amir, which means the Caves of the Princes. It is where the prophet Tobit has inscribed his name on the entrance to the Cave walls and it would be the place where Elijah listened for God's voice following the thunder and rush of wind. It is a lush wadi (valley) where lots of eggplants, zucchini, bananas, and other produce are grown. 

This is the location of the Royal Flower, that is rarely seen. It is the Black Iris, which is really dark purple, but it blossoms in late April and early May. Few Jordanians have ever seen one in real life, but it is their national symbol.

The road to this water camp was quite eventful as we passed many goats, a white camel, a braying donkey dotted along a scenic mountainside that almost looks like an Italian countryside. The hills and valleys make for some nice scenery. As we approached the campsite, we could see the Royal Palace that is designed for recreational purposes on the highest hill. You can see the Jordan Valley and River, the Dead Sea, and the terrain of Palestine. Sometimes you can see what looks like layers of smoke on the horizon, but it is dust from the desert that gets kicked up by the wind. All in all, it is a beautiful view, and I always think of the Prophet Isaiah's words: Make straight the pathways. The valleys will be filled in and the mountains laid low, and the road home from exile will be flat, and the desert will be bursting with flowers and fruited trees. 

The road was winding and narrow and most drivers don't like to give an inch. Drivers here have a different concept of space as we do in the U.S. We had a couple of hairpin turns in low gear before we arrived at the water camp. 

I finished reading a theology book because I found a spot in the shade where I could simply take some quiet. In the hot weather, one perspires without producing sweat, and it is important to hydrate, so I took some slow time just to finish a book I really liked. 

The people enjoyed it so much. They immediately ran down to the river, took off their sandals, and put their feet in the water. After some Sundanese coffee and a falafel snack, they were ready for bones or dancing. I joined in one game of bones that I scarcely remember from childhood. It was good just to play with the guys, who turned to cards after a while. Most were there to practice their English and to have fun.'

Some came over to talk in English, but they were too shy. They asked me to be gentle with them, but they got all over me when I mispronounced a word. They taught me how to form sounds in Arabic. I wish I had these instructions years ago. It is quite amazing to realize how extensive the Arabic world is, and where their centers of culture are located. There are different dialects for Yemeni, and people from Qatar, but their world centers around Arabic cities. One would have no problem moving between Pakistan, Baghdad, or Beirut because Arabic ties it all together. It is fascinating to realize that Amman is the fifth largest city in the Arab world, and so it becomes a center for commerce, culture, and vacations. A Francophone nation might want to visit Paris, many want to visit Germany, but the place many really would like to visit is Spain because it was once an Islamic nation. They don't know what city they want to visit or what they might want to see, but it was once part of their heritage while being European at the same time.

We talked a lot about hijabs and clothing and various Islamic customs and sayings. There are times when I want to greet someone as sister because she is wearing nun's clothing, but then I recognize that it is Islamic wear. The point is that the habits of sisters come from the attire of the middle east. The same with clerics and men's robes like cassocks. You will see a man walking down the road in a cassock and then realize he is not a priest. We are not all that different. Obviously, the Middle Ages adapted the clerical attire to be much more stratified, and now we are left with Medieval garments. 

We spent a lot of time talking, and laughing, and finally the woman got me to dance, and then the men danced. Fortunately, the lunch bell rang and I had a way out, but all throughout the afternoon when someone would see me, they would imitate a move I made, and they would start chuckling. Most of all, the people just wanted me as an American and as a priest to sit with them to talk. They did not care what we spoke about but they wanted to chance to use their newly acquired language while being seen and known by an American. 

I placed my feet in the water one more time and cooled down before the trek back to Amman. Since it was a Thursday, the traffic would be bad because it is like heavy Cape or Maine traffic on a Friday. Cars jockey for any position and they thereby make greater delays. Anyways, it was a lovely day, and we shared many laughs, many stories, and learned many lessons.

Celebrating What's Right With the World

Today was really a low-key day. I had no desire to go out or to do anything. I had a good night's sleep and said Mass for the local community, but then I tied up some loose ends for projects that are in process. I worked on this weekend's homily, put together the weekend Mass program, wrote the Prayers of the Faithful, and caught up on many correspondences. Other than that, I corrected a watercolor painting that is not too complex, but it is a greater challenge to make a subject look simple than it is to make it complex. As I look back on the day, I don't feel like I accomplished all that much, but I needed a lowkey day to plan the rest of my time in the city.

At lunch, we had lamb and cusa (rice and beef stuffed zucchini), pasta, grape leaves, rice, and chicken. I only had the cusa and grape leaves and a small piece of lamb. It was quite enjoyable.

After I caught up on correspondences, I noticed that it was already 5:00 p.m., the time in which the refugees would come for some enlightenment. Most of them are refugees from Yemen, Somalia, or the Sudan, and they are learning English and some life skills. We have conversations for an hour after watching a film clip. All in all, we spend two hours together.

I suggested that they watch the TEDx talk, "Celebrating what's Right with the World," as it is Ignatian Spirituality in layperson's words. Celebrating What's Right. I hope you like it. I think you will like it as much as they did. The premise is: Change your Lens, Change your world.

It shows that you are responsible for creating your worldview and that you can discover God in all things, if you simply reframe what you notice and sense. It shows how to achieve the magis, by not only getting a good shot with your lens, but getting a great shot. It helps us to discern - to see what is helpful to us and to leave behind what harms us or at least does not help us. It gives us choices in freedom. We can live in reality and see that there is far more good that happens in the world than bad, and we choose the side of Christ the Eternal King, who calls us to see as he sees and to live as he lives. He calls us into a program of life. The way we see the world determines how we act, see, and dream. We might have to actively seek God's presence in the world, and it is within our grasp. It allows us to believe the Resurrection is real, and that our world can be filled with beauty, wonder, and admiration, even when we know that violence, war, hatred, and destruction goes on. We hold onto hope. We trust in God and by doing so, despair vanishes. It helps us determine our passion and then to direct akk all our resources to our passions because God gave us those desires to achieve and enjoy. Celebrating what's right with the world allows us to live in joy and happiness and to be grateful for what exists around us. It achieves what the Spiritual Exercises is all about because we are to love and see the world the way God loves and sees the world, and when we do so, there's nothing else to do but to celebrate what's right with the world