Oh, I love the innocence & joy of this picture and the colorful flowers. A poem I read years ago came to mind:
Before Jesus Was His Mother
Before Jesus was his mother.
Before supper in the upper room, breakfast in the barn.
Before the Passover Feast, a feeding trough. And here, the altar of Earth, fair linens of hay and seed.
Before his cry, her cry. Before his sweat of blood, her bleeding and tears. Before his offering, hers.
Before the breaking of bread and death, the breaking of her body in birth.
Before the offering of the cup, the offering of her breast. Before his blood, her blood. And by her body and blood alone, his body and blood and whole human being.
The wise ones knelt to hear the woman's word in wonder. Holding up her sacred child, her God in the form of a babe, she said: "Receive and let your hearts be healed and your lives he filled with love, for This is my body, This is my blood."
~Alla Bozarth
I saw your post at Delwyn's blog and came to visit. Blessings & Peace to you!
I see a little nervous girl taking part in a ceremony that she knows little about...and I think it's called indoctrination... and I feel a little sad for her...
But then I think about my past and what I expected of my children in sending them to a Lutheran school (although I wasn't)
and I think of the values that I learned at Sunday school and church, even though I tossed out formal religion as an adult...
and I wonder who I would be without an exposure to religion.
I have always been grateful for the religious framework because it gave me a grounding and I think it enabled me to make choices and to grow spiritually in other directions when I was ready to nurture that aspect of my self.
Now I have come to the conclusion that the spiritual over-rides and underpins all of life...
there are not the demarcations that there used to be...
So that was an interesting little exercise Margaret - see what it brought out of me... the image provoked a range of feelings...
That poem is beautiful, Marion. I think those images of Mary are what inspire motherhood and really all women. A group of us is doing a Mary Magdalene Mass on her feast day, July 22. It will be for and by women only (except for one priest who will do the eucharist) and the ritual action will be touching water to the forehead of the woman behind one in line (from the baptismal font). She's another amazing Mary, and you share their name! Thank you for this meaningful poem. Kind regards, Margaret
Delwyn, thank you for weighing in. I like this ceremony because it seems so universal. She could be adorning a maypole with flowers, or throwing them in the Gannges. It will be years before she sees the grace in Mary's gentle face and find solace there. She does seem a little unsure of herself: they made it hard for her! She has to step on an uneven rock, hold's someone hand, and shakily reach way up there to the top of her head! I have to admit I have a thing about exclusion of others. How much nicer and merrier if each child brought up a little nosegay and placed it at her feet. It seems to me that your religious permutations brought you to a spiritual place. Remember, Buddhism means literally "compassion." Warmly, Margaret
Laurie, I know you're hesitating with this one, but we always love to hear from you! Best regards, Margaret
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Oh, I love the innocence & joy of this picture and the colorful flowers. A poem I read years ago came to mind:
ReplyDeleteBefore Jesus Was His Mother
Before Jesus
was his mother.
Before supper
in the upper room,
breakfast in the barn.
Before the Passover Feast,
a feeding trough.
And here, the altar of Earth,
fair linens of hay and seed.
Before his cry,
her cry.
Before his sweat of blood,
her bleeding and tears.
Before his offering,
hers.
Before the breaking of bread and death,
the breaking of her body in birth.
Before the offering of the cup,
the offering of her breast.
Before his blood,
her blood.
And by her body and blood alone,
his body and blood and whole human being.
The wise ones knelt
to hear the woman's word in wonder.
Holding up her sacred child,
her God in the form of a babe,
she said: "Receive and let your hearts be healed
and your lives he filled with love,
for This is my body,
This is my blood."
~Alla Bozarth
I saw your post at Delwyn's blog and came to visit. Blessings & Peace to you!
Hi Margaret.
ReplyDeleteI see a little nervous girl taking part in a ceremony that she knows little about...and I think it's called indoctrination...
and I feel a little sad for her...
But then I think about my past and what I expected of my children in sending them to a Lutheran school (although I wasn't)
and I think of the values that I learned at Sunday school and church, even though I tossed out formal religion as an adult...
and I wonder who I would be without an exposure to religion.
I have always been grateful for the religious framework because it gave me a grounding and I think it enabled me to make choices and to grow spiritually in other directions when I was ready to nurture that aspect of my self.
Now I have come to the conclusion that the spiritual over-rides and underpins all of life...
there are not the demarcations that there used to be...
So that was an interesting little exercise Margaret - see what it brought out of me...
the image provoked a range of feelings...
That poem is beautiful, Marion. I think those images of Mary are what inspire motherhood and really all women. A group of us is doing a Mary Magdalene Mass on her feast day, July 22. It will be for and by women only (except for one priest who will do the eucharist) and the ritual action will be touching water to the forehead of the woman behind one in line (from the baptismal font). She's another amazing Mary, and you share their name! Thank you for this meaningful poem. Kind regards, Margaret
ReplyDeleteDelwyn, thank you for weighing in. I like this ceremony because it seems so universal. She could be adorning a maypole with flowers, or throwing them in the Gannges. It will be years before she sees the grace in Mary's gentle face and find solace there. She does seem a little unsure of herself: they made it hard for her! She has to step on an uneven rock, hold's someone hand, and shakily reach way up there to the top of her head! I have to admit I have a thing about exclusion of others. How much nicer and merrier if each child brought up a little nosegay and placed it at her feet. It seems to me that your religious permutations brought you to a spiritual place. Remember, Buddhism means literally "compassion." Warmly, Margaret
Laurie, I know you're hesitating with this one, but we always love to hear from you! Best regards, Margaret