David Jaeger, Independent Ministry

New Year Greetings

Dear Family, Loved Ones, and Friends:

My work at St. Vincent de Paul, along with my life with Steve & Betty Sue, my mom, family and some friends has been consuming, thus my slowness in sending:

“Christmas greetings to you dear loved ones and friends!”

• At St. Vincent’s I’ve participated in and watched with wonder how people at Husky Stadium the Saturday after Thanksgiving gave thousands of blankets, coats and dollars for the needy in winter time.

• I watched with awe at Christmas time when even more than usual organizations and individuals brought perishable and non perishable food, clothing, and gave over a thousand new toys for children to the thousands of people who come to ours and other StVdeP food banks.

• I watch as our Call Center receives thousands of calls each month from people in need; they in turn pass on the relevant information immediately aand geographically to the respective St. Vincent de Paul groups in the 52 parishes in King County, who then respond with personal visits and material help to those asking for assistance.


• Our truckers pick up an average of 1200 donations per month of clothes, household items, and all kinds of furniture from nearly 700 donors all over King County for us to deliver to parish St. Vincent de Paul clients and to our four thrift stores.


• Finally I’ve become aware of the material help and thousands of dollars that have poured in for people affected by floods in Western Washington in recent weeks.

The Dalai Lama speaks of being “wisely selfish.” That means giving generously and trusting that we will get a return. Not so much a material return, but more important a spiritual one: an expanded soul, deeper compassion, trust in the goodness present in whatever life brings us, humility, and a benevolent spirit toward our self and others just as we are.

This spiritual growth is a central part of the Mission of St. Vincent de Paul; and I believe this is happening to all these people and others whom I’ve watched give so generously and in good and enthusiastic spirit.

I wish you and yours a wonderful experience of our celebration of God become so human with us in the birth of Jesus. Have a blessed and fruitful New Year. And thank you for being in touch with me!

David

Mary Magdalene and Jesus: A Resurrection Story

More recent interpretations of John’s Gospel link a question Jesus asked of the disciples who first sought him out near the beginning of his public life, with the experience Mary Magdalene had near the end of the Gospel. 

In the beginning Jesus had asked the disciples who came to him, “What are you looking for?”  At a loss for much of an answer they said simply, “Where do you live,” to which Jesus replied simply, “Come and see.”  And they followed him. 

So began a three year journey that had them sharing an intimate relationship with Jesus while witnessing miracles of healing; his preaching to them, to ordinary people all over Palestine from Galilee to Jerusalem, and even to the scribes, Pharisees and leaders of the people. They saw crowds grow and keep listening, following, and asking for miracles.  The original disciples’ amazement grew in the face of this awesome person: what he said, how he lived, how he glowed when praying to his Abba, how he boldly faced down sincere and less sincere people with what they were missing and needed to discover about life and about him.  But like most everyone else, they didn’t really “get” him though they were deeply drawn to him.

Thus, they were utterly unprepared when the end of his life came crashing down on him and them.  They loved and wanted to believe in him.  But this was too much, bringing utter confusion, fear, and abject disappointment.  Including to Mary Magdalene, who as portrayed in the rock opera, “Jesus Christ Superstar,” at the point where she sees what is beginning to take shape while Jesus is being dragged from the High Priest to Pontius Pilate after his arrest, sings, “I’ve been waiting for so long, waiting to see you but it shouldn’t be like this.  Could we start all over?...I think you’ve made your point now, one could even say that you have gone a bit too far...Could we start all over?”  She loved him and stayed close to him, but was crushed by what was happening.

Then we move toward the end of the Gospel story!  And Mary Magdalene’s very special role in it: The Sunday morning after his death she was looking with bewilderment and grief into the tomb of Jesus, which she had found empty hours before.  She heard a man’s voice behind her, “Woman, why are you weeping?”  Thinking he was the gardener and wondering if perhaps he had moved Jesus’ body she turned and said, “Sir, if you have removed his body tell me where you have laid him and we will take him away.” 

At which moment Jesus looked into her eyes and said, “Mary!”  We can only imagine the awareness and joy that instantly came over her as she fell at Jesus’ feet and wrapped her arms around him.  His looking into her face, her heart and her soul with love and with all the radiance of his resurrection and calling her by her name is seen as the answer to the original question of John’s Gospel, “What are you looking for?”  It was starting to dawn on her, without the words to say it, that Jesus, this amazing human being, was actually God made flesh and living with us.  When he called her by name that Easter morning, she rose from the dead with him; the reason and meaning of her existence became clear, what she and all of us are looking for: to be loved and called by name by God in a way we can feel as human beings.

Wonderful it is...but hard to take!  It is easier for us to listen to and admire Jesus; to try to live like he did and do his will in our lives, to feel responsible for making a better world, than it is for us to let him look at us with such love and call us by name.  We’re too busy, we feel too guilty, with too much left to do, for us to be able to believe and allow ourselves to experience that we are so loved in that way.  It is hard for us to accept love so unconditional and total, that isn’t dependent on our worthiness.  Our ego says we have to earn it; and since we never can, we just keep working and worrying, rather than doing our best and trusting the outcome to God’s love.

At one of the most painful events of my life 20 years ago, one which felt like an enormous, unreasonable loss, I remember verging on anger at God whose workings I could not understand.  “Why,” I asked.  The only answer I received was, “I’m here, I love you.  It’s time you realize that comes first.  It seems like a stunning loss is the only way for me to get your attention.”  I still struggle with that love, always tempted, not just to answer my call to service—which is a good thing, but beyond that to engage in obsessive striving—which is the problem.  But at least I believe in it, and try—like Mary Magdalene—to make room for that humbling and helpless experience of the love and embrace of God that is always there in every moment and situation.

Thank you God, thank you Mary Magdalene, thank you the Gospel of John!  We’ll get there yet.

Services Offered

A light for my eyes, a lamp for my feet.

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For individuals or small groups: guidance and support with spiritual and religious journeys/questions

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The quest for a spiritual path, coming out to families, navigating membership in churches (if desired)

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Depending on the interests of the participants, this can include presentation/sharing around a theme, topic or other interests; shared prayer and ritual; community building. 

Topics and themes might include: scripture, various religious beliefs/teachings and their relevance to our life, exploration of the meaning and structure of prayer and ritual, etc. 

Memorial Services

To honor our grief, to celebrate life, to
continue relationship  with the deceased.

Includes learning about the deceased’s life by interaction with the family/loved ones; planning the elements of the service (participation of loved ones and attendees, environment, readings, music, prayers, ritual); conducting/leading the service;  grief counseling if desired.

House blessings

Through prayer and ritual, drawing out the presence and protection of the divine on a home, its members  and visitors.

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Includes various possible elements:  getting acquainted with the couple, assisting in marriage preparation, working together to plan the service, conducting the rehearsal, presiding at the wedding, and completing the legal paperwork required by the state if relevant.

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I am happy to include in my daily prayer persons who are experiencing any special need or hardship, or who have died and are continuing their journey on the other side. Please send me the name and whatever information you would like to share to dpeter@cablespeed.com, or click comments below to post it on the website, and I (as well as the larger community, I'm sure) will hold them in prayer.

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What's Good about Good Friday

Two nun friends of mine were going to a prayer day last week entitled “What’s Good about Good Friday?”  That seems to be a question, either conscious or unconscious, that many people have.

My niece commented after her visit to Seattle U a month ago: “I really liked the chapel a lot.  But why did they have to have that big crucifix front and center?  Why not focus on the Resurrection?”  My sister told me about her comment, and added, “She just isn’t old enough yet; I felt that way when I was younger, but at my age, after some of my and others’ hardships and suffering, the crucifix is very meaningful.” 

St. Paul said in his day that Jews were looking for miracles and Gentiles for wisdom, but “I preach Christ crucified…a scandal to Jews, and foolishness to Gentiles.”  I think we too might prefer miracles and wisdom.  But often the miracle we want fails to materialize and we see no wisdom at hand to explain it.

So where are you and I really?  Which do we like better, Good Friday or Easter?  The fact of the matter is they go together.  John’s Gospel doesn’t even wait for three days; Jesus death and resurrection were going on at the same time.

The 13th century artist, Giotto, painted frescos that captured this simultaneity of suffering, death and resurrection.  In the frescos the crucified Jesus, and then the placing of his body into the arms of his mother look real and terrible.  But the whole scene also portrays levels of reality that would not be seen by an eye without faith: namely, a radiant, divinely blue background, numbers of cherub-like angels doing everything from showing horror at the scene, to worshiping the divine human savior they saw in Jesus, to being practical in collecting the precious blood flowing from his wounds.  The human bystanders are separated into those without halos and those with them, suggesting some of those present there were on a wave-length of faith, along with their confusion and grief.  We know that by this time Jesus was quiet, praying, asking forgiveness for those doing this to him, and entrusting himself into his Abba’s arms.  Giotto’s portrayal of the scenes evoke not only painful feelings and scandal, but radiate wonder, even glory.  Obviously, something awesome, beautiful, and mysterious is happening in the midst of this suffering and death.

I have watched many people who have carried, even embraced their own cross; and in the process also became beautiful, peaceful, patient, loving, even good humored.  I bet you can think of some examples from among some who have been an intimate part of your life, or whom you have watched from a distance, or heard about when their stories were told. They are the miracles.  They are reflections of the Jesus story in our own days.

Over my now many years of believing, I have come to realize there is no resurrection without suffering and ultimately death.  That is because the human race, of which each of us is a member, is a somewhat spiritually blinded and misguided group at this stage of our existence.  Even with all the joy and beauty of life, goodness is still going to suffer in this world, like Jesus (God with us) did; and like every one of us will at various points of life, including, and often especially, at the time of dying.  The mystery of evil is just that: a mystery and a hard one.  But then we have Jesus and many who have been his followers standing in the midst of that mystery and radiating love and redemption.

My sister receives comfort when she looks at the Crucifix.   It shows her we are not alone when we and others suffer, and that there must be meaning in it if Jesus went through it.  God does not free us from suffering, but God is there, mysteriously carving out our hearts and filling them with awesome grace, in many life settings but definitely always in the midst of suffering.

Happy Easter, dear friends!  And let’s remember in our own and in the connections we have with others: suffering and rising to new life go on at the same time.

Remember that you are dust

“Remember that you are dust, and unto dust you shall return.”
And the ashes in the form of a cross are impressed on the forehead.

A friend of mine said, “I’m going to get my ashes tonight, of course; but it seems a little morbid to be reminded so starkly that we are fragile, and won’t be here forever (or not even that much longer in my and your case).”  Hmmm!

Yes, envisioning our death or that of loved ones is not a favorite pastime.  And now we are entering a whole season where we focus on Jesus’ terrible suffering and death and why and how it came about.  In addition the savior we profess to follow said to us, “Whoever wishes to save their life will lose it, and those willing to lose their life in this world will save it.”  And “Unless you take up your cross and follow me, you cannot be my disciple.”

How difficult it will be some day if we spend a lifetime avoiding and dreading death and considering death a failure of life.  Because it is coming; it is an inevitable part of life; and we are invited to consider it a positive thing, even with the suffering that may accompany it.

A Buddhist master says:
Why do we live in such terror of death?  Perhaps the deepest reason why we are afraid of death is that we do not know who we are.  We believe in personal, unique, and separate identity; but if we dare to examine it, we find that this identity depends entirely on an endless collection of things to prop it up: our name, our “biography,” our partners, family, home, job, friends, credit cards…It is on their fragile and transient support that we rely for our security.  So when they are all taken away, will we have any idea of who we really are?  Hypnotized by the thrill of building, we have raised the houses of our lives on sand.  This world can seem marvelously convincing until death collapses the illusion and evicts us from our hiding place.  And what will happen to us then if we have no clue of any deeper reality?

We preoccupy ourselves with life in this world: taking care of our family; maintaining and repairing our health; getting enough income; protecting ourselves (if possible) through savings, investments and insurance; being protected from what we consider threats or enemies(often by questionable means); maintaining distance from people who are poor, delinquent, or seriously ill or handicapped, etc.  It’s a tall order and can consume so much of our waking hours and keep us awake at night for that matter.
 
Buddhists call these preoccupations and the intensity surrounding them “samsara,” which is defined as a kind of chaos of feverish activity around temporary concerns.  Christians refer to them as attachments.  Being too preoccupied with controlling this world is the “Original Sin,” as I interpret it.  We must, of course, spend time on daily concerns.  But if we spend all our time, and consider them the most important things in life, we miss out on what is more important. Jesus moved toward an early and painful death, fraught with conflict and an apparent failure to accomplish his mission of converting and making a better world, trusting that the more important part of him would survive and that the losses would be nothing compared to saving his soul and awaiting the gifts God had in store.

Back to Lent.  I’m told the word comes from an Anglo-Saxon root that means something like “lengthen.”  In the light of “lengthening” daylight, we seek greater enlightenment in our own consciousness, and in the attitudes and actions of our daily life.  The call of the season is thus to make extra efforts to get in touch with the more important things.  We can read spiritual books, study the scriptures, and participate in liturgies to understand more deeply the mystery of Jesus and what it means for our lives. We can diminish the activities and “things” in our lives to emphasize their temporary and less important value; we can put emphasis on the condition of our soul—and the amount of our means and time we give to others in need.

The venerable and 3 years deceased bishop of Saginaw, MI, Kenneth Untener, used to write to his people reflections for Lent.  In one of them he recalled the woman who rubbed a very expensive perfumed oil on Jesus feet as an act of reverence at a dinner.  She was criticized even by the apostles for waste.  Jesus turned this criticism back on those who were, he said, too preoccupied with money and its “waste” in this case. 

Bishop Untener suggests, “The traditional Lenten practice of almsgiving nudges us to lavish our largesse upon the poor, like this woman did for Jesus.  What would happen if I took a large bite out of a week’s paycheck and gave it to the poor?  I can’t do that every week, but, then again, this is Lent.  So act it out: nonjudgmental generosity to the poor and disenfranchised is an exact following of Jesus’ example. Poor people are no more “dust” than we are; we need to identify with them as, at their root, persons beloved of God just like us.  After all, we are dust, as are also our possessions and so much of our earthly identity.  What will last beyond this life is our relationship with God, our love for others, and particularly our identification like Jesus with the poorest.

The Gift that keeps on giving.

For me Christmastime always goes too fast.  However, taking time to look back on it can help the spirit of Christmas live on throughout the whole year.  This year Christmastime was, as always, a bright and happy time.  The typically dark, cold winter terrain turned into a festival of sights and sounds.  You could feel good will, good cheer and generosity in the air and in the many Christmas activities and gatherings.  I love the symbolism of this time of year.

One of my favorite features of Christmas is the manger scene.  It can reveal to us the deepest meaning of the season: namely, that it is in darkness that light shines the brightest.  Think about it a little bit.
• The manger scene told us that Mary gave birth, and Jesus was born, in a stable, a makeshift layout at best that Joseph had managed to piece together for them in a hurry and after a number of false tries.  They were basically homeless and in the dark the day he was born. 
• Their first visitors were shepherds—a perfect representation of the working poor.  Fields and flocks of sheep were the setting in which they eked out their existence; shepherds were used, but not much respected or appreciated by those who needed the sheep to be guarded and cared for. It was the shepherds who first made their way through the darkness of night to what turned out to be a gloriously bright scene.
• Well-off strangers from a foreign land followed a star until it shone into a dark cave; where, on their knees, they shared their treasures with the couple and their new baby—a striking image of the lowly being exalted and the exalted brought low.
• And the angels: every character in the Christmas story and scene needed angels; or they would never have reached Bethlehem that day, nor even survived for that matter.  Angels filled the cold, dark air and impoverished conditions, for the characters in the Christmas scene as they do for us, with light and songs of peace and hope.

So our calling as believers and followers of Jesus, now that we have moved beyond the official Christmas season, is to move on into the reality of daily life: closer to where Jesus began and where he ended his life: with poor, ordinary, even excluded people.  Jesus loved people who were better off, even well off, too; but he called on them to realize that what we have is not nearly as important as who we are.  Who we are, much more than our level in society or what we have, is the same as what every other human being most basically is: a person loved by God in the deepest level of our being; a God who came to live with us and as one of us, on the level of the ground.  The word “humble” means: near the ground, or “down to earth,” and is another way of saying it.  God loves us as poor people, as excluded people, even as condemned and dying people.   And God loves us as people with gifts, talents, and time: when we use them to identify with and help others, people who, as we reach out to them, teach us that God loves and identifies with everyone, no matter what!

Though the human created sounds and sights of Christmas have faded away into an icy, snowy January and are moving into a so far frigid February, let us continue to recognize and become ourselves—all year long—a believer and participant in the Light that shines in darkness.

Christmas Greetings

Christmas greetings to my dear family and friends!  My lateness is due to good news: I’m employed at St. Vincent de Paul (and we moved; thus the new address.)  Meaningful work, some income (!), great people around me as coworkers and clients!  I’m very happy.  The other side, of course, is that working is so “time-consuming.”  A surprise?  No, but keeping busy these past few years I still lost awareness of the difference between “busy” like a retired person and working full time.  Thus I’m late.

My Christmas reflection is drawn from a movie mom and I saw last Sunday: The Nativity.  I was concerned it might be too sentimental, pious, sensational, portraying the divine as too visible.  I’ve come to realize over the years that Jesus, Mary, Joseph and all the cast were totally human; the divinity was not easily seen.  Even Jesus, like the rest of us, walked through this life, not knowing things for sure.  Jesus, Mary & Joseph had a greater faith, a better line of communication with God.  But that didn’t mean that they “knew” the meaning of everything, what would happen next, or that they didn’t undergo hardship like and even beyond ours.

The movie, based on extensive research about life in those times, portrays Mary as struggling with her pregnancy because the marriage to Joseph had not yet happened.  Her parents suspected infidelity, and when they came to believe Mary’s sincerity saying she had had relations with no one, they were still at a loss and confused. 

Mary’s trip to the hill country to visit Elizabeth was to confirm the sense she had been given that her older cousin was also pregnant, and a chance to “get out of town.”  When she returned to Nazareth months later she was definitely showing.  Joseph was shocked and dismayed, her family embarrassed.  Mary had to stand up to all of this suspicion and shaking of heads without much support. 

A paranoid King Herod, portrayed as a self-serving and brutal puppet of the Roman occupiers, decided to make sure that the messiah his subjects were constantly talking about would never have a chance to be his competition.  So he instituted a census that would bring everyone who came from there back to Bethlehem where his soldiers could watch for and eliminate anyone who appeared to have the stature of a would-be messiah.  Joseph and pregnant Mary were screened and passed on because they looked so unlikely to be candidates.

The trip to Bethlehem was almost over when Mary began to go into labor.  A shepherd’s cave was all that could be found as a place where Mary could give birth, Joseph was the “midwife.”  When the baby was born out of Mary’s screamingly painful birth process, and peace descended on the night time scene, the visits began.  Shepherds, among the lowest class of society, were moved to go to the cave.  Shortly after, wealthy astrologers on a lengthy journey from the East, following a rare and mysterious alignment of three planets, themselves arrived.  Such poor and stressed, but now calmed, parents in a cave, a beautiful but altogether ordinary human baby in Mary’s arms, and an unusually bright light resulting from the convergence of the planets; somehow these led the visitors to recognize that something awesomely beautiful and hopeful was taking place before their eyes.

The scene was so touching; it brought tears to my eyes.  The promised messiah—a baby, poor and vulnerable to the violence that could break out at any time on any person in those days—this was God with us.

The message is that the uncertainty of our own lives, the heartbreaks and tragedies that can and will fall on anyone, rich or poor, seeming powerful or vulnerable, are a place where God is born.  They are the place, as the remainder of Jesus life shows, wherein we will be saved.

My friend Steve and I wish each and every one of you and ourselves a year filled with ever deeper awareness and imitation of the mystery of Jesus, God made a human being, our savior.

The Life Beyond Death

November is here, the month when we remember and pray for the Poor Souls.  Why do we remember them?  Because, we learned in the old days, they are suffering in purgatory and need our help to move on to heaven.  It was for many of us an unpleasant thought, even a little scary.

I remember one day when I, in one of the early grades, came home from school upset.  Visibly, it had to have been, because my mom immediately asked me what was wrong.  “The teacher told us today about a place called purgatory.  She said it was really just like hell; just as hot, no doors so you had no way to get out; if you touched the wall with your finger, it would burn off; the only difference is that eventually you’d get out, but you didn’t know when.  And finally, basically everyone has to go there.”

My gramma had died not that many months ago; and the very idea of her being in such an awful place (she was the dearest soul, and to her I could do nothing wrong—I liked that) was more than I could stand.  I was in tears.

What did my mom do?  She went down next to me on one knee, as I remember it, and said, “David, you don’t have to believe that.  I don’t.  God loves gramma very much, she is in heaven right now, she is very happy, and she smiles down on us while she waits until the day comes when we will join her.”

“You don’t have to believe that!”  I think it kind of became my ‘responsorial psalm’ with regard to things that just didn’t seem like the God I believed in. Put another way, if it is negative, mean or harsh, then it must be wrong or wrongly understood.  Because God is good and full of love and forgiveness!

The fact of the matter is, I still believe in purgatory.  Other religions have parallel beliefs. Buddhists speak of it as the bardos.  The ancient natives in what is now Central America celebrated with their dead, a tradition carried down to today in the “Day of the Dead” fiesta with altars to their deceased set up around the towns, and cemeteries filled with people partying, dancing and singing while decorating graves with happy skeletons and pictures of their beloved deceased.

I’ve grown to believe and understand over the years that purgatory, as we call it, is part of God’s mercy.  When we die we won’t be finished no matter how holy we may have become.  We have more to learn and see. 

To help us understand further: remember what we learned about original sin?  Baptism forgives it, but the effects of original sin go on through our earthly life.  They are defined as something like: “the darkening of the intellect, the weakening of the will, and the inflaming of the passions.” 

“The darkening of the intellect:” It will be painful, before it becomes joyful, to see quite clearly a lot of things we were blind to in this life—about God, ourselves, others, and the real meaning of our life.  I know I see things, including myself, others and God, with some significant distortions—and that leads to so many of my shortcomings.   

“The weakening of the will:” I fail often to do what I commit myself to do as a follower of Jesus; even when I want to; I’m weak.  “The inflaming of the passions:” something woven deep into my being—strong feelings and reactions, my ego—rise, surprise and trip me up.  To grow I have to keep examining myself, praying, trusting in God’s loving, understanding, patience and forgiveness, and continue trying with a hopeful spirit—and also a little sense of humor about myself.

But even with that, I’ll have some way to go after I die.  Thank God we are not finished when we die.  We have much to learn and God’s grace will make it happen as long as we accept it.  Indeed, we have much to look forward to.

So, what about “praying for the poor souls in purgatory?”  It makes sense!  We don’t learn about God alone, nor do we engage in communion or ritual alone.  Our understanding of God is deepened throughout our life by our interaction with others, people we know here, and saints in the beyond.  People who inspire us, support us, and yes, hold us accountable for actions and attitudes.  It stands to reason we will continue to need them when we are in the life beyond.  People here, as well as our dear ones and the saints and angels in the next life.  And of course, God above all.

This November let’s celebrate the people who have moved beyond this life.  Let us let go of our fear of death and our movement to that life beyond ourselves. Let us be glad that we’re all together in this.  Let’s rely on God and help one another as we make our winding and mysterious, and often enough harrowing, way to heaven.