23
" That afternoon, I purchased a bunch of daffodils for the table, and the sister who was home when I arrived got up to find a vase. We talked about Lent, and she told me that for most of her life she had considered it only in punitive terms, as a time of self-denial. “Now,” she said, “I still fast, but my reasons for fasting have changed.” She hoped to recover Lent as an aspect of spring itself, a time of waiting, but also of burgeoning hopes. For her this meant paying close attention to things like intake of food and the acquiring of possessions not in order to punish herself but to more fully honor the good things in life. "
― Kathleen Norris , Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith
25
" In living out my conversion as a daily and lifelong process, I treasure most the example of my grandmother Totten, who dwelled in one marriage, one home, one church congregation for over sixty years. Her faith was alive for anyone to see; her life demonstrates that conversion is no more spectacular than learning to love the people we live with and work among. It does not mean seeking out the most exotic spiritual experience, or the ideal religion, the holiest teachers who will give us the greatest return on our investment. Conversion is seeing ourselves, and the ordinary people in our families, our classrooms, and on the job, in a new light. Can it be that these very people—even the difficult, unbearable ones—are the ones God has given us, so that together we might find salvation? "
― Kathleen Norris , Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith
28
" Otherworldiness can be a real temptation in the religion, but the Incarnation itself is a corrective. Down to earth, real flesh and blood. And even at feasts such as the Ascension, which might seem otherworldly, the scripture texts for the day are anything but: "Why stand ye gazing up into heaven?" (Acts 1:11, KJV). As if to say, take a look around; your work is here! One of my favorite passages in the Roman Catholic Breviary, used during Advent, has a practical and yet visionary tone, a combination I find irresistible. Heaven seems to be an important construct in the human imagination, and these words by St. Augustine tempt me to believe that the power to imagine such a heaven is almost heaven enough.
"Let us sing alleluia here on earth, while we still live in anxiety, so that we may sing it one day in heaven in full security... We shall have no enemies in heaven, we shall never lose a friend. God's praises are sung both there an adhere, but here they are sung in anxiety, there in security; here they are sung by those destined to die, there, by those destined to live forever; here they are sung in hope, there in hope's fulfillment; here, they are sung by wayfarers, there, by those living in their own country. So then ... let us sing now, not in order to enjoy a life of leisure, but in order to lighten our labors. You should sing as wayfarers do - sing, but continue your journey ... Sing then, but keep going. "
― Kathleen Norris , Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith
35
" The word “righteous” used to grate on my ear; for years I was able to hear it only in its negative mode, as self-righteous, as judgmental. Gradually, as I became more acquainted with the word in its biblical context, I found that it does not mean self-righteous at all, but righteous in the sight of God. And this righteousness is consistently defined by the prophets, and in the psalms and gospels, as a willingness to care for the most vulnerable people in a culture, characterized in ancient Israel as orphans, widows, resident aliens, and the poor. "
― Kathleen Norris , Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith
37
" The literature of apocalypse is scary stuff, the kind of thing that can give religion a bad name, because people so often use it as a means of controlling others, instilling dread by invoking a boogeyman God. ... [Apocalyptic literature] is not a detailed prediction of the future, or an invitation to withdraw from the concerns of this world. It is a wake-up call, one that uses intensely poetic language and imagery to sharpen our awareness of God's presence in and promise for the world.
The word "apocalypse" comes from the Greek for "uncovering" or "revealing," which makes it a word about possibilities. And while uncovering something we'd just as soon keep hidden is a frightening prospect, the point of apocalypse is not to frighten us into submission. Although it is often criticized as "pie-in-the-sky" fantasizing, I believe its purpose is to teach us to think about "next-year-country" in a way that sanctifies our lives here and now. "Next-year-country" is a treasured idiom of the western Dakotas, an accurate description of the landscape that farmers and ranchers dwell in - next year rains will come at the right time; next year I won't get hailed out; next year winter won't set in before I have my hay hauled in for winter feeding. I don't know a single person on the land who uses the idea of "next year" as an excuse not to keep on reading the earth, not to look for the signs that mean you've got to get out and do the field work when the time is right. Maybe we're meant to use apocaly[tic literature in the same way: not as an allowance to indulge in an otherworldly fixation but as an injunction to pay closer attention to the world around us. When I am disturbed by the images of apocalypse, I find it helpful to remember the words of a fourth-centry monk about the task of reading scripture as "working the earth of the heart," for it is only in a disturbed, ploughted0up ground that the seeds we plant for grain can grow. "
― Kathleen Norris , Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith
39
" The liturgy became excruciatingly boring. It dragged; it seemed a meaningless chore.
I realized that what I was experiencing had been experienced, and endured, by every monk in that choir. And knowing that helped me to recognize this experience of tedium as a grace, a gift that not only allowed me to better understand the realities of monastic life but also provided an important step in my religious conversion. I was a guest, and didn’t have to go to choir with the monks; why, then, did I feel compelled to go? To hear the poetry of the psalms, as it turned out. And to learn that this was reason enough. The experience revealed conversion to me as largely a matter of trusting one’s instincts, even when reason cries foul. It is remaining certain that one’s progress through difficult terrain is heading somewhere, even when boredom and despair conspire to make it all seem worthless. "
― Kathleen Norris , Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith
40
" In a recent talk on Mary, Ruth Fox, a Benedictine sister who is president of the Federation of St. Gertrude, a group of women’s monasteries, reclaims Mary as a strong peasant woman and asks why, in art and statuary, she is almost always presented “as a teenage beauty queen, forever eighteen years old and ... perfectly manicured.” Depictions of Mary as a wealthy Renaissance woman do far outnumber those that make her look like a woman capable of walking the hill country of Judea and giving birth in a barn, and I believe that Fox has asked a provocative question, perhaps a prophetic one. I wonder if, as Christians, both Protestant and Catholic, seek to reclaim the Mary of scripture, we may well require more depictions of her as a robust, and even muscular, woman, in both youth and old age. "
― Kathleen Norris , Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith
