Blame (or Credit) My Publisher

Dear Family and Friends,

It’s David Gawlik, married priest from Wisconsin and owner of the small publishing company, Caritas Communications, whom I blame or credit. Anticipating the publication of Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – A Love Story (coming out soon!), he proposed that I get my own website to promote this second book.

After some scouting around, the person I chose to create the website is my editor, Mike O’Connor’s own graphic designer – Nina K. Noble. Like Mike, she also lives in Port Townsend, Washington state, on the Olympic Peninsula.

Nina turned out to be just the right person, just as everyone “sent” to help me with my writing imperative has been just the right person (like David and Mike). I call those three my team. Nina is a Russian Orthodox Christian, and a yoga practitioner, to boot. She’s even a student of Jung studies. So Nina and I have become friends in the process of my sending her material, and her “designing” the website.

Look here to see the fruit of Nina’s work . . . outstanding work, I think you’ll agree:  www.elainemcgillicuddy.com

Initially, it was a website focused on just that – promoting the first two books, the CD of my reading the poems, and later, the third book in progress – Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – The Uncollected Poems and Journals. But I found myself drawn to make it also a site for collecting various memorabilia.

The “memorabilia” that I most appreciate is the Portland Community Television’s “The Second Act” interview with Francis and me, in 2005. We had to go to some lengths to use it. I thank Lee Slater, my goddaughter Rowan’s dad who made a “MOV” out of the only DVD I was given at the end of that interview in 2005. For the 2012 interview with me by Bill Gregory, the TV station already had it uploaded and available on their website. Nina just had to copy it from there. But those earlier interviews were not uploaded then. But now, after Lee’s work, emailed to Nina, you can see on my website that “Second Act” interview conducted by Susan Hirsch with me and Francis.  

I realized after that, that I wanted to do even more with the website. I thought that my hip problem and yoga-to-the-rescue story might be of help to others. My annotated list of books on grief and death which helped me after Francis died has already helped others, so why not share it more widely?  Spreading the word about permaculture (edible landscape) is needed in our precarious times, and the chants which, at the end, helped Francis in facing his death – (That’s what the “Sing to Me” is all about!) – those could inspire people as they did us. So why not include those as well?

Now viewers can see Francis and me (very briefly) in another video, a youtube video showing Aramaic scholar, Dr. Neil Douglas-Klotz leading us in the recitation and chanting of the first line of the Lord’s Prayer in Aramaic. Of many Aramaic prayer retreats Francis took with me, that one in the spring of 2009 was his last– only months before he was hospitalized. There he is in that video, wearing a blue top my mother had made for him.

With that website work completed, I am ready now to work on the second half of the third book. The prospect is a joyous one because I know by now that writing is a work of discovery.

Just last week, after a long supper conversation with my friends, Joe and Claire Brannigan, I dropped off two books I’m loaning them – Old Age, Journey into Simplicity, and Jung on Death edited by Jenny Yates. (Because of Joe’s terminal condition, please keep them in mind and heart as they face together what is approaching.) My loaning them the books occasioned a little research on my part through which I came across this fitting quote by Helen Luke.

"Wisdom consists in doing the next thing that you have to do, doing it with your whole heart and finding delight in it — and the delight is the sense of the sacred."

Yes, it fits me like a glove. From the poems that came after Francis died, and through the telling of his story and mine, and now with my own widow's story coming next – writing, at this time of my life – feels to me like a calling. And people’s hearty response to my Maine Jung Center presentation only seems to confirm it. For that I give thanks.

And with loving gratitude,

Elaine

A Sweet Synchronicity + Poem and Reminder

Dear Family and Friends,

I went to a funeral this morning. Another friend in our parish, Rosemary, became a widow last week. Francis and I used to sit in or near the same pew in church on which she sat with her now late husband. The two eulogies were no exaggeration: Bob was a very kind, accomplished, generous, compassionate man. We will miss him!

At communion time, another friend, Anne, who was rounding the corner of the section where I sat, touched my shoulder and showed me what she had found in the hymnal she was using – Francis’ memorial bookmark! (Ask me if you’d like a copy, as a PDF). When I passed on this message to Sue, next to me (another widow), we both teared up. It felt like a sign — Francis’ way of saying “I’m among you!” which of course he is, as Bob, Sue’s late husband, is too.

When Anne came to our pew offering to give me Francis’ card, she pointed to the title of the hymn on the page; its last word was “dance” (and it was not “Lord of the Dance”) – but clearly, the last word in that hymn’s title was DANCE.  My eyes widened again, for a second reason.

Since January 30, three poems have come to me. The second one, “My Deceased Husband Speaks to the Men in My Life,” starts out with the “guys at Hamilton’s Garage.” The February 15 poem, “Them I Know,” is a serious one, even longer. But the first one which is relevant to my story here is called “When My Time Comes.”

Remember that Francis’ memorial card marked the page for the hymn with the word “Dance” in it:

WHEN MY TIME COMES

     will I cower before the dark,

     in an unknown void,

     alone?

     Or, when my time arrives,

     will I take Death’s hand,

     and

     enter in the Ballroom

     joyful in knowing

     you’re waiting for me there?

That’s the sweet synchronicity part.

Now the reminder:

Three people recently double-checked with me – “Is your talk next Sunday?”  The basic facts are on the mainejungcenter website.

Chris Bowe of Longfellow Books will be present to sell copies of Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – The Poems, and to take orders for Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – A Love Story (available in March).

Thank you for supporting our well-loved and “fiercely independent local bookstore!

Loving regards to all,

Elaine

A More Succinct Announcement

Dear Friends,

One among you who admitted to feeling “overwhelmed” by all the information in my email, “Invitation,” asked me:

Are you going to send out another more succinct email about this event?

I’m so grateful she told me this! When I sent out that overly detailed email, the Maine Jung Center hadn’t yet posted this, but here it is now, straight from their website, in good time for you to save the date.

Loving regards to all,

Elaine

http://www.mainejungcenter.org/index.php/programs

Aspiring to Live Authentically 
Elaine McGillicuddy
Sunday, February 23
 2—4 p.m.
Portland Friends Meetinghouse
1837 Forest Ave, Portland ME

Elaine will share both her journey through grief since the death of her priest-husband, Francis, and the providential way that writing her 
poems and telling their love story restored her will to live and gave her a new purpose in life. Besides relating how becoming a published poet and writer became a healing experience for her, Elaine will read 
selections from her books. Participants will also be invited to sample a few energizing yoga stretches and savor a few lines of the soul-satisfying Lord’s Prayer chanted in Aramaic.  

Elaine G. McGillicuddy, MA, poet and writer, is a former nun who married a resigned priest. She is a retired English teacher, certified Iyengar yoga teacher who co-founded Portland Yoga Studio, and a  leader of the Dances of Universal Peace. She is now writing her third book, Sing to Me and I Will Hear You–The Uncollected Poems and Journals. The titles of this and her other books are drawn from her husband Francis’ words to her before he died. 

Invitation

Dear Family and Friends,

For the same reason I said yes to two interviews (for a radio/podcast by Dr. Lisa Belisle, and for a Profile column in Maine magazine), I said yes to my former yoga student and friend, Jennifer Stanbro. She emailed me on September 24, 2013 – exactly four years later, to the day, the day Francis was first hospitalized.

Jennifer, now a member of the Board for the Maine Jung Center, asked if I would be willing to give a two-hour program under the heading “Tools for Individuation,” on February 23, 2014. She explained that the Center occasionally holds these programs in which someone shares a personal experience of inner growth. There’s usually some sort of expressive dimension involved. For example, in the past, artists came and talked about their process.

“I immediately thought of you and your poetry,” she said. “I know you have another book coming out and I was thinking this might be a nice venue for sharing your story and your publications.” I agreed, and then drew up a “Proposal” in the form of an outline. The Board liked it. That was three and a half months ago.

Amazed once again by the unexpected, unlooked-for nature of these opportunities for me to share Francis’ and my love story, I spent hours pondering, revising, and refining the content of my outline. I knew right away I would be mentioning Greg Mogenson’s book, Greeting the Angels – An Imaginal View of the Mourning Process, and for two reasons. He is not only a Jungian analyst (and so, an author certain to appeal to such an audience), but his book also deeply moves me. (I first read a chapter in it after my mother died in 2000.) Then, after Francis died, I found it so affirming to find my experience described in it, that when the time came to select who might write a blurb for the back cover of Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – The Poems, I thought of him. That’s when I discovered he lives in London, Ontario, Canada. So I emailed Mr. Mogenson. He not only said yes to my request, he agreed with me that my poems reflect much that he expressed in that marvelous book.

At that time, or likely, even more than two years ago, I had typed three pages of notes from Mogenson’s book. They are notes I’ve found myself drawn to read and reread. So I reread them then, and got an idea I suddenly put into motion: I wrote down in the margins, or right over those typed notes, using a red pen, the titles of my poems which illustrate his words. I felt some excitement about this because the correspondence between certain words and my poems was something I could see, now, concretely. It wasn’t just a vague feeling I had had. My poems did and do, in some way, echo his words!

Some months before I had started working on the outline, passages from my own poems began coming up for me, either with new nuances, or by way of almost stunning me with their enduring truth. Being a new poet, that phenomenon surprised me. You can imagine my delight to hear Richard Blanco say something similar during Diane Rehm’s excellent interview with him on public radio, on January 2 (and here’s the link): http://thedianerehmshow.org/shows/2014-01-01/richard-blanco-all-us-one-today-rebroadcast

My own poems had begun reverberating new meanings for me, and now here I was finding yet more, by examining which ones might match with the words of this Jungian analyst.

In the end, I carefully selected twelve quotes from Greeting the Angels which resonate with fourteen of my poems.  My outline took on new life. There will now be a part two to my presentation – a powerpoint projection onto a screen of one of Mogenson’s quotes and its page number, and the title of one my poems. After a pause to let those present absorb his text, I will recite the poem I feel exemplifies it.

Why am I telling you all this? Because the two-hour presentation on Sunday afternoon February 23, from 2 – 4 pm will be held at the Friends’ Meeting on at 1837 Forest Avenue, in Portland. The general public is invited, not just members of the Maine Jung Center.

I was asked by Katie Miller, coordinator of the Maine Jung Center, to email her information to use in their newsletter which is now posted on their website: http://www.mainejungcenter.org

It may not be wise for me to give you a copy of my outline now (attached in my email only) but it’s only an outline. It can’t deliver the live interaction that will surely take place with those who come. (I’m looking forward to that, even though, frankly, I feel a little nervous about doing this . . . though that’s probably good too). But for those who can’t come – at least you’ll get to see what has been much more than just a project for me in the last three and a half months.

I invite you for now, if you’d like to come, to mark your calendar – Save the date February 23 from 2 to 4 pm, a Sunday afternoon. And better still -  register online now at the Maine Jung Center's website, under "Programs"  http://www.mainejungcenter.org

I’m touched by everyone’s encouragement and support – thank you!

May you all be well and blessed beyond your expectations in this new year,

Elaine

        

It's Different This Year

Dear Family and Friends,                         

Four years ago today, Francis and I were embarking on the most momentous days of our lives, approaching together his death and transition twelve days later. Last year, because I was writing about that journey, I used the expression “nadir and zenith.” But it’s different this year. I still tear up easily, but I am so filled with gratitude and joy about the second book that this year, joy overcomes grief. It feels as if completing Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – A Love Story is the biggest thing I’ve done in my life. It was like something I had to do before I die. With only one more spiral bound hard copy galley proof to scrutinize, the book will be available early in 2014. 

Two things made a big impact on me in recent weeks: a reflection by the Aramaic scholar with whom I’ve studied since 1996, and, hearing the Portland Symphony Orchestra play Johann Sebastian Bach’s Cantata # 140 – “Sleepers Awake.”

A few times a year, those who study with Dr. Neil Douglas-Klotz receive from him an online reflection to ponder. (He’s the one whose two biblical chants helped Francis through his final days.) “The Psalms,” he wrote, “mention seven times of prayer, according to the progress of the sun. The stages of the sun through the day can help us remember the preciousness of life and the stages of time passing--birth (morning), full bloom of youth (midday), mid-afternoon (wisdom of maturity), late afternoon/sunset (the day 'nearly over' - reminding us that life in these bodies doesn't last forever), evening (preparing to 'die before we die')”      

 

It’s clear that at 78, I’m in the evening time of my life. I don’t mind that because aging has its gifts. Then there’s this:

The text of Bach’s cantata based on Jesus’ parable of the wise and foolish virgins, calls for the inhabitants of Jerusalem to waken, take up their lamps, prepare the feast, and go out to meet the Bridegroom. In Bach’s 17^th-18^th century world, faith was simpler; heaven was understood literally then. Even knowing that, and by contrast, a bit about modern scientific views, in hearing the glorious cantata, I felt transported by that Coming it announced. After pondering this for days, I can’t help believing that the desire for life after death, engrained in the human psyche from earliest times, is so strong, that that fact in itself argues in its favor. No one could convince me that love dies with the person who dies.

Francis and I heard Sister Elizabeth Johnson speak at a conference in 2000, about her book, Friends of God and Prophets, A Feminist Reading of the Communion of Saints. She found it hard to face, she told us - what she discovered after extensive research and reflection: “Empirically, the darkness of death is unconquerable.” Death is a genuine end to historical life. Her book concludes: “the only possible response {is} faith in its rawest form. Taking the risk that God will be there. . . . The promise of God is bound to what is empirically the end of all promise.” (p. 220) I give thanks for this gift of faith. Her next chapter “Companions in Hope” builds on faith. That part of my book is underlined even more.

In the earlier years after Francis died, I was tempted to think I just wanted to write my books, and then, “join” him. But then, as expressed in my poem “Widow’s Time,” (from Sing . . . The Poems), I saw that I have additional work to do – rallying to protect the environment for our children, work for peace and justice in the world, and work also, for example, teaching English to Africans. I already love doing that, but for now, it’s on a limited time basis - after mass on Sundays.

 In a sense, the first two stanzas of that Widow’s Time poem allude to what I’ve focused on in the last four years - “not moving on, but in,” and  “crack(ing) open memories’ nuts.” Now, after having written this especially demanding second book, Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – A Love Story, I sense that I’ve jumped over the highest of three hurdles. With the first half of the third book already written – Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – The Uncollected Poems and Journals, the third “hurdle” is the journals. (By the way, I’m in awe at how the poems in the first book continue to speak to me, confirming and revealing as they do - new nuances.)

I’m also in awe at many unexpected developments, two I haven’t  told you about yet. This one I’ll mention now is more personal, not oriented to promotion of the books: I was invited to chant during Christmas Eve mass the ancient Christmas Proclamation from the Roman Maryrology. I did that once before in 1955, in Latin, while in the novitiate in Missouri. It moves me no end to have this privilege a second time - fifty-eight years later! The English text I’ll use is a combination of these two on youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-cWykjM1k90  and  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=niFqd2miMCM

 As a friend in CORPUS puts it - Enjoy the wonder and blessings of this Christmas season – and I add Solstice too, with its “long moon.”

With Gratitude and Love,  

Elaine

Unexpected good developments - Maine Magazine Presents: "Love, Spirituality & Self"

Dear Family and Friends,

In July, I got a message from a Dr. Lisa Belisle asking if I would be willing to be interviewed for her Dr. Lisa Radio Hour and Podcast. She had picked up my first book from our local bookstore, Longfellow Books – Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – The Poems. I immediately said yes because I was just completing Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – The Love Story (which is now at my publisher’s) and such an interview would serve to promote both books, I told her, and the CD of my reading the poems. The radio interview took place in August, but was aired yesterday. Here is the link for this 34 minute radio interview called “Love, Spirituality & Self”:  http://chirb.it/NHJpIC  

Shortly after this interview, I was asked by Sophie Nelson, Assistant Editor of Maine magazine, if I would be willing to be interviewed for that magazine’s “Wellness” column. That’s when I realized that Dr. Lisa’s partner, Kevin Thomas, is publisher of Maine magazine. So I agreed again, for the same reason.

The online copy here -- http://themainemag.com/play/wellness/2354-elaine-g-mcgillicuddy.html -- has more photos in it than the actual magazine has (November 2013 issue). The photos were taken by the gifted photographer, Patryce Bok.

Lee Slater, my goddaughter, Rowan’s father, said about Sophie’s “Wellness” profile, “. . . the house of our Love”: “The article captures the essence of you, and your relationship with Francis, perfectly.”

You can imagine how grateful I am for these unlooked-for developments. They will, I hope, incline people to read Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – The Love Story when it comes out early in 2014. It’s not only a love story whose blessing is too rich for me to keep to myself, but there is much in the book about Francis’ last 100 days. I had to tell that story too, to celebrate Francis’ extraordinary patience and inspiring courage in facing his death.

I was very interested to learn more about Dr. Lisa Belisle. She is doing great work in Maine and beyond. Here are two links that lead to information about her -- when she became a doctor: http://www.drlisabelisle.com/1995/10/road-to-md.html . . . .  and when she started her radio hour podcast: http://collegenews.org/faculty-focus/2011/lisa-belisle-%E2%80%9992-hosts-new-%E2%80%98dr-lisa-radio-hour-podcast%E2%80%99.html

It was gratifying to learn that the late Hanley Denning of Yarmouth, the founder of “Safe Passage” in Guatemala http://www.safepassage.org/history was Dr. Lisa Belisle’s classmate.

Thank you all for your kindness towards me, and for supporting me and my call to keep writing. I’m now working on the second half of Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – The Unpublished Poems and Journals. 

It’s only six weeks away, now, from the fourth anniversary of Francis’ death on January 3, 2010. Writing has been a healing channel for my grief, but remembering what it was like accompanying him as he embarked on that greatest of journeys, I ask you to pray for Francis’ and my longtime friend, Joe Brannigan, and his wife, Claire, who is a nurse. Claire told me that the fast onset leukemia that surprised Joe is “not amenable to treatment.” I brought them a spiral-bound copy of Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – The Love Story with the numbers of pages listed where they were mentioned, so they could read what I wrote about them, especially Joe, in the first and second chapters. I met Joe when, as a nun, I met Francis, a priest. Francis and I were both newly assigned to Waterville, Maine that same year, that same month. That’s where the love story started, and where the book starts. There's clearly more than coincidence or chance at work here; I call it Providence. Because of it, it’s Thanksgiving for me every day.

You can be sure I also give thanks for the inestimable gift of family and friends whom Francis and I appreciated, and I continue to value - each one of you.

Joyous Thanksgiving to all!

Elaine

A Francis poem, Pope Francis & The Call That Awakens Us

Dear Family and Friends,

I got a Happy Easter phone call from my brother-in-law a few days ago, so it’s fitting that I do the same, and for additional reasons.  You see, I am currently writing about what Francis said (on this exact day) – three months and three years ago.  It was December 29, 2009. 

The poem I’m attaching feels like the most important poem yet.  But this, one of the 48 additional poems that have come since the publication of Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – The Poems will be published after this prose book is completed - Sing to Me and I Will Hear You – The Love Story.

The poem came after I transcribed audiofiles of Francis’ and my last four (of five) extraordinary dialogues.  I waited three years to listen to those recordings, made possible because Francis’ wonderful doctor, Dr. Devlin, had volunteered his recorder.  This poem provides a short overview of part of what I have been writing about (Francis’ last 100 days) since last autumn.  After that, I’ll go back to Chapter 4 which is only partly written.

Yes, during this celebration of Jesus’ Passover, it’s altogether fitting that I share with you who love him, what Francis said as he made his own Passover – and what he said about Jesus.  So here’s the poem written earlier this month:

The Last Conversations 2009                    

          I

She did not dare -

could not bear

before 

to hear his voice again.

To see,

even just his writing,     

his cursive script –         

that took a lot,

already.

 

When holding to her face                     

his worn grey sweatshirt             

she could breathe in

the sweet scent of him,             

uniquely his.                                

And the taste of him?         

Oh that - she always has,         

in poems she wrote.          

In prayer.                                            

But his voice?  

His rich and resonant voice?

She’d heard it once,                  

within her ears:               

“I love you, dear” -                     

a visitation                                           

she had called it; a miracle            

become a daily mantra

that sustains her still.    

But now to know his

real,

live

voice awaited her on audiofiles - she knew

it was time to hear his voice again

kept live through time        

these last three years.

She sat before the monitor,         

snapped on speakers,           

found the file

and paused.

It took three clicks

and there they were:

the files centered on their four

"last suppers."      

                 II

It was the week after Christmas.

Hildegard von Bingen's

Canticle of Ecstasy                          

flooded their room.

A dinner tray sat on Francis’ lap.

She offered him a bite,

then took one of her own.   

He smacked his lips

over Tuscan kale.   

                 

“Such feasts given us by friends,”

he said, then wept with her   

at the generous love                                                 

they spent on them,      

sending cards and emails for            

a last

“Message for Francis”

read aloud at dessert.                                         

“The love’s so rich,” she said,                             

it feels decadent.”                                                  

                           

He called their dinners –          

“last suppers.”

The talk turned deep,

her listening, intent.                         

“When Jesus joined in                          

our human condition,” he said,            

sharing his thoughts of

recent days,

“in a way,

we too were raised -

to that

new

level.”

She relaxed, breathing in her gratitude.         

                                        

At another last supper

he thanked her for trimming

his hair and beard

that day.                   

“Such a loving experience

we had together!”

he affirmed.

“You injected new energy

and life in me:

It’s not time yet.”

She massaged his legs and arms

as he fell asleep.           

On the day of New Year's Eve 

he wouldn't eat,                     

but then at night he changed his mind.         

 “For my sake?” she asked.

“For us,” he answered.

They were both aware:

this night could be the last          

of all the last suppers they’d held dear.         

So they embraced the little spark         

of which he spoke.

“With patience,” he suggested,

in a weak and scratchy voice,                    

“it might become something bigger.” 

      

"He had," he said,                                  

"just a very small window

I'm allowed in the world,

tonight."

But he was not bereft,                   

she was relieved

to hear him say, for he’d wrestled

with some terror –

fear of the unknown,

earlier that week -                              

“not without comfort,” he repeated,

his voice frail.

Hovering on the edge of New Year’s day –

the year into which

he would hardly step

before he left –

the music stopping time

for them that night,

was not a canticle of ecstasy     

but a virtuoso oud player’s

mesmerizing music.                                       

They reminisced.

Seven years before on his 75th birthday,

that music had filled Bella Cuchina,               

the restaurant they’d rented

to celebrate with family and friends.

The occasion, the music, had swept them         

in a transport of joy.

                                                                          

Here now alone, together they relived it.

“That music tears your heart out, doesn’t it?!”   

she said.  And he?

He began to softly sing, 

his pitch, melody

in perfect rhythm

with the master’s own.

His voice grew strong and full,

its signature resonance, once more rich.   

After a pause, before beginning again         

into sing-a-long mode, he said –

“What a melody, huh?!”

                                                

                III

Now she’d heard him

again,

heard him singing his joy with her,

on the verge of his dying,

on the brink of his death.

Francis’ faith in Jesus’ resurrection as something mysteriously bestowed upon us all is a faith I cherish as most of you do.  

I’m a member of a small community in our parish which is open to others, for discussion and monthly “Agape” prayer.  Earlier this week two articles were sent around preparatory to that meeting.   Carol Zaleski wrote both of them.  I was deeply moved by this passage from the one entitled “Immortal Dreams”: 

“There are hints in the Hebrew Bible:  ‘If a man die, shall he live again?’ asks the book of Job. ‘All the days of my service I would wait, for my release to come. Then you would call, and I should answer you; you would long for the work of your hand.’  (RSV) It is this call from our Maker and Redeemer that awakens us from death, not some inherent excellence and indestructibility in our souls.”

Here’s the link: http://www.christiancentury.org/article/2012-11/immortal-dreams  but I’ve copied the whole article below. 

Even if this doesn’t fit in with the Passover theme, our group did discuss this second article I also liked - about prayer.  In fact, this passage quoting Karl Barth moved me to tears:  “But what about foolish prayers, trivial prayers and selfish prayers? Karl Barth is comforting here. “We do not know what proper prayer is,” he admits, and it is actually a sign of our faith that we run to God in prayer with “haste and restlessness.” To do so reveals a trust that we are in communion with God, who intercedes for us with sighing too deep for words, who hears and answers prayers “quite apart from our weakness or strength, our ability or inability to pray.” In prayer, said Barth, we stand beside God as friends.” 

http://www.christiancentury.org/article/2012-11/desperate-prayers

It’s heartwarming that our new pope called himself Pope Francis.  But even more moving to me is his actions, like yesterday’s, which our local paper reported this morning.  The headline reads:  Pope Washes Women’s Feet in Break With Church Law:  http://news.yahoo.com/pope-washes-womens-feet-break-church-law-002454620.html

I like the last few lines of this article which is more complete online:  “Francis responded that it was to ‘help me to be humble, as a bishop should be.’ The gesture, he said, came ‘from my heart. Things from the heart don't have an explanation.’”

What is especially telling is his referring to himself often as “the bishop of Rome.”  In the early church the Pope was seen as the first of all the bishops, exercising “the Petrine ministry,” but he was still mainly “the bishop of Rome.”  It all fits the humility of St. Francis of Assisi, Francis’ patron saint. 

Just one more thing about Pope Francis.  Some of you may be aware that some people are questioning his role during “The Dirty Wars” in Argentina, specifically, some say he didn’t do enough.  (Others, on the other hand demonstrate he did what he could, even at his own risk.)  In any case, I was especially moved by the concluding paragraph of this article – “ Pope Francis: A Modern Passion Play”  By Steve Weissman, Reader Supported News  28 March 13

http://readersupportednews.org/opinion2/295-164/16686-pope-francis-a-modern-passion-play

“Readers will decide for themselves what to make of this, but let me share my personal reaction. As an atheist and Jew - and yes, one can be both - I find scriptural arguments for and against liberation theology completely foreign. But I have long valued the political work its adherents do in poor communities. I must also confess a surprising sympathy for the new pope. I can only assume he believes in a just God who knows what he did during the Dirty War. This is the cross Pope Francis bears, and it must be terrifying, an unending crucifixion in his personal passion play. If I could only write that play as a work of fiction.”

(Info about this writer):  A veteran of the Berkeley Free Speech Movement and the New Left monthly Ramparts, Steve Weissman lived for many years in London, working as a magazine writer and television producer. He now lives and works in France, where he writes on international affairs.

Joyous Easter everyone!

Love,

Elaine