6 posts tagged “compassion”
It's been some time since I forced myself to blog, so I figure now it is about time. I've had the idea of writing a brief explanation of photos I take and place on my facebook page as my "profile picture." I'll start with the current, and update you as I change. When possible, I'll try to go back through some of the photos I have taken.
Or, how pilgrims walk hundreds of miles, and why they must.
Or, how we can open our doors to strangers, and why we must.
Today's reading from the Gospel: Lord, when did we see you a stranger and welcome you? Hungry and feed you?
From the Episcopal Cafe blog, which summarized this July 15 post from Bishop Alan´s blog:
Bishop Alan says the Indaba process requires seven things.
1. Indaba demands full participation
2. Indaba is an emergent process
3. Indaba is driven by trust
4. Indaba requires working space
5. Indaba is an expression of respect
6. Indaba is an expression of faith
7. Indaba requires recognition that "there is a real world out there."
For Indaba to be successful, it will be when Bishops realize that “It’s not that the God of the Church has a mission, but the God of Mission has a Church.”
On Sunday, I walked up to Monte de Goza to take down fliers and wanted to walk back into the city. R walked in from there (about 5 km) when he went to post the fliers, and said that the experience of looking for the little yellow arrows that mark the way had been a significant experience of recalling his camino, and recommended that I do it.
So, I did. After taking down the fliers, I walked uphill about 100 m to the statue erected in honor of Pope John Paul II's pilgrimage, and bought a bottle of water to sustain my walk back. There, I heard a very distinct "y'all." A word of no little importance to this Mississippian. So, I stopped to speak, and discovered a wonderful group of people from Church of the Ascension (Knoxville, TN), and walked the last leg with them - a very special moment for me, to be able to walk with them.
As we neared the Porto do Camino, the entry to the old town, I offered to the priest to wash their feet. After a few minutes of coordinating, I ran to the apartment while they were in the church to collect my little tubs and towels. We met back up on the southern plaza of the church, where there is an old fountain Domenico Laffi (17th century pilgrim) described, with horses. I sat them around the fountain, and there, washed all of their feet. I reminded them they are to go and do likewise, but invited them not to think about that on that particular day of their entry - to accept first the free gift, and then later, on their return home, to consider ways to give back.
Dumping out the water, I thought back to Maundy Thursday, and remembered that the water is not nearly so dirty then. There is something about washing real feet, dirty feet - not the pre-washed feet that come on the eve of Good Friday. It was a real blessing for me to be able to do this - to offer a gift expecting nothing in return. And of course, in giving, feeling a deep connection to human beings beyond myself, and the God who created us all.
Had a fun conversation with a friend Saturday. He brought up footwashing - out of the blue! His own reticence to have his feet washed at church (we only do it once a year) is quite normal, I think. It reflects the intimate nature of the act: it's hard to get that real with someone else - so real that we let them touch our ugly, stinky feet. And mine are pretty ugly and stinky!
As I grow older, I find myself as companion, occasionally, to friends trying to navigate the rocky shoals of the death of a loved one. Each of us has to do this at some time in life, and will have to do it in our death. It can feel solitary, but it does not have to be alone.
