Saint Olga of Kiev, my 34th great grandmother

Saint Olga of Kiev, my 34th great grandmother
SAINT OLGA OF KIEV, MY 34TH GREAT GRANDMOTHER
Showing posts with label holy poverty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label holy poverty. Show all posts

Saturday, May 10, 2025

Saint John of Ávila, Apostle of Andalusia - May 10

 







"I would rather live without skin
than live without devotion
to the Blessed Virgin Mary."
~ Saint John of Avila ~

On May 10, we celebrate the feast day of one of the saints who helped form the foundations of my Catholic consciousness and was, in a small way, responsible for my leaving the Hindu (Vedanta) convent in the early 1990's so that I could become a Catholic nun. This did not happen in the manner that I imagined it would, since it was years before I was welcomed into the Catholic Church and I never became a Catholic "nun," per se, but the inspiration for monastic life remained with me for all these years, and I have been an independent lay hermit since 2003. The outward form of what I wanted for myself did not materialize, but I am living the spirit of the thing in a way that takes advantage of the gifts with which the Lord endowed me from birth. God brings all things to the good for those who believe.


Long after my conversion, I continue to look to the saints for clues about how to live a life that is intensely devoted to The Lord. It seems as if a good third of the saints I read about in my daily studies of the saints of the day have, at some point, become hermits, at least for a time. But this isn't true of the saint I chose today, except that I sense an inclination toward the hidden life by certain phases in which he was drawn toward it. But he was mostly known as a beautiful orator, teacher, and  doctor of the church with missionary zeal. If you read his sermons and letters, his mental trend was somewhat mystical. His sermons were widely attended and usually packed the facility where they were given. He given the honorific title of "doctor of the church" in 2012 by Pope Benedict.

"Enlarge your little heart to the
immensity of love with which the
Father offered us His Son, and with
Him gave us Himself, the Holy
Spirit, and all things."
~ St. John of Avila ~

Whenever I read about the saints, I will compare the trajectory of their lives with mine, in the hope that I may learn something from them. Saint John of Avila and I both came from wealth. At least, my father was wealthy. He divorced my mother and then another woman and had a final wife that had me written out of his will after he got Alzheimer's so she could take my inheritance. Thereafter, he died a very suspicious death. When you live by the sword, you die by the sword.

Saint John of Avila was disconnected from the wealth of his parents when they died while he was still a college student and he sold the family property! He gave the proceeds to the poor and embarked on his clerical career. In my case, I was disconnected from my father's wealth by his avaricious third wife. In Saint John's, he sought poverty and created it for himself.

"He who relies on God does not
let himself be overwhelmed by
sufferings, anguish, death, or hell.
He who does not lean on Him,
how much fear he feels, how 
worried he walks!"
~ St. John of Avila


I do believe that God loves the poor and desires that his beloved mystics also be poor so that we depend upon him.  Either we are naturally poor, or we voluntarily opt for poverty, but the end is the same. We cling to God alone.

I hasten to add that in no way do I practice the "radical poverty" of Saint John. That is not my path. I am an artist and a writer, and the accoutrements of that type of career, and the instruments, tools and supplies that are needed for the painting and the writing, are many and varied. So I do not pretend to the total abandonment of resources to which Saint John aspired, nor do I believe this is the path for everyone. You may still actually cling to God alone while at the same time having in your possession those supplies that are necessary to your state of life. If you are a mother, for instance, it is not necessary to make your infant sleep on the floor on a rough hemp blanket. If you make and sell shoes, you don't walk around town barefoot. You get the idea.

Saint John himself lived in a style of radical poverty and advocated for it widely. This was the basis for his disapproval of the behavior of the "upper classes" of his day.

"Whoever has the truth and does
not profess it or behave according
to it is trapping the truth in injustice."
~ St. John of Avila ~

Saint John also had many years of progressively poor health at the end of his life, forcing him to go into semi-retirement. This is a situation one could bewail, or instead look upon it as a tremendous gift of the Lord, allowing us to be drawn into His arms, where we may rest during the last miles of our earthly walk. 

The Lord gives us the blessing of chopping us down so that we remain with Him. The illnesses that create our lack of mobility and force us to remain with the Lord are a divine dispensation.

"The cause that in a greater measure
stimulates our heart to the love of God
is to consider deeply the love that He
had for us."
~St. John of Avila ~

Saint John was the type of person meant to be a leader and a teacher, so even though he was attracted to a small modest house in Seville with another priest in the early years of his life as a priest, he quickly attracted disciples, and this often happens with the doctors of the church that the Lord gifts with great oratory and teaching abilities.

In reading about his life, a rhythm of first being drawn to a small hidden residence and then being called out into the world by his disciples and his superiors in religion shows itself to have been a tension string on which the music of his spiritual work was played.

"You think that by worrying too much
you will be able to keep up. Woe to the
man who does not lean on God but lives
thinking whether it will rain a lot or 
whether it will not rain!"
~ St. John of Avila ~

There were several phases in which he was preparing for one mission but was called away from that by his superiors, such as his planned-for but not taken mission to Mexico. He was talked out of that in order to do missionary work (which later earned him the appellation of "the apostle of Andalusia") in response to the urgings of the Archbishop of Seville and the Inquisitor General.

I don't think they anticipated that he would put himself under the critical eyes of the Inquisition by advocating strongly for church reforms and by his bitter invective against the behavior of the rich aristocracy, however! Having a talent as an inspiring orator was fine, as long as the wealthy benefactors of the church were not antagonized!



"Remember what you have done
offending God and what you have
failed to do in his service; go to
the confessor and throw away all
your sins, sweep and clean your
house."
~ Saint John of Avila

I find echoes of the American condition of the church in what happened next for our dear saint because he was imprisoned on a charge of exaggerating the dangers of wealth and insinuating that the doors of Heaven were closed to the rich! Doesn't that sound like something Donald Trump would do if he could? He would love to send people to prison for any sort of criticism of the wealthy class. So, we live in similar circumstances at the moment, with the exception that our beloved Catholic Church has almost none of the worldly power that it did during St. John's era.

"The good preacher and the good
confessor must go to the front. No
one should say a good word without 
first putting it into practice."
~ St. John of Avila ~

Saint John was ultimately exonerated and released from prison, whereupon he returned to teaching and preaching from a base in Cordoba. He also established schools and colleges in nearby cities. His University of Baeza became a model for the schools of the Jesuits. Wherever he went, a community seemed to want to spring up in his footsteps, but he encouraged his disciples to go and join the Jesuits! As accomplished and overflowing with spiritual gifts as he appeared to be, he was also humble hearted. He must have been a remarkable person to see and hear with one's own eyes and ears

Saint John was ill from his early 50's, (which is also the approximate age of my disability, though mine was at age 49, and it had been announcing itself for the previous 10 years.) He went into a somewhat retired condition at that time and died almost 20 years later, at age 70. He was buried in the Jesuit Church of the Incarnation in the town of Montilla, Province of Cordova, where there is a sanctuary to his memory.





He left behind a considerable amount of written material, including 82 sermons and a large number of letters. I find it fascinating that among the letters we find saints among the recipients, such as Juan de Ribera, Thomas of Villanova, Ignatias of Loyola, John of God and my favorite, Teresa of Avila! His was a prodigious talent that affected everyone from the clergy he helped to reform, to students of religion for whom he established schools and colleges, and to the laity who he attempted to catechize. I don't often find a saint who has such a wide range of talents. He was a remarkable man.


"I know of nothing better than to
meditate on the fact that our Lord,
with Whom we are to treat, is both
God and man, and to think over the
reasons for which He comes down
upon the altar."
~ Saint John of Avila ~

I plan to make a note to myself to review his letters to Saint Teresa of Avila and see if there is anything in there which could inspire me in my efforts to bear down on my spiritual life during this final lap of this race.

I also recommend familiarizing yourselves with this beautiful saint because, no matter what arena in which you are living your life, I suspect that he may have something inspiring for you!

In the meantime, I pray for you, as I hope you pray for me.

Speaking of prayer, here is a lovely prayer asking God to help us follow the example of Saint John of Avila:

"Almighty God, You chose St. John 
of Avila from among your faithful to
show his brothers the way that leads
to You; grant that his example may
help us to follow Jesus Christ, our
teacher, so that one day, together
with our brothers, we may reach the
glory of your eternal kingdom.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ,
Thy Son,
Amen"


God bless you all!

Silver Rose 

(By the way - I am tired of being plagiarized and having my work stolen for the use of other persons, so please remember that, although you may read my work for free in this blog, entirely without any payment for all research and my creativity, you may NOT copy it, in whole or in part, without my express written permission. You may reach me by writing a comment on this blog or contacting me on Facebook. ASK for permission and it will not be unreasonably refused.)






Friday, June 7, 2024

SAINT MERIADOC, HERMIT AND BISHOP, A STRANGE COMBINATION

 


FEAST DAY: June 7 or the first Friday in June.

Saint Meriadoc, also sometimes Meriedoc, Meriasec or Meriadeg (Breton) feels somewhat familiar to me, as he is said to have been originally a Welsh man, and I am half Welsh. He later moved to Cornwall, and he opened several churches there, one of which, at Camborne (a town that played a significant part in my family history) is where he is the patron.

When I read about Saint Meriadoc, I think back to my 2nd great grandmother, who was born in Camborne but died in Denver, Colorado, U.S.A., one of the pioneers of my family who hailed from the adjoining areas of Cornwall and Wales.  I wonder if she attended St. Meriadoc's church that is dedicated to him in Camborne, and if she had some affection for him. I wonder if she was familiar with the stories of his holy life that remain behind in the Cornish miracle play called "Beunans Meriasek" a single original copy of which, written in the "middle Cornish language and dated 1504, remains.

Saint Mariadoc desired to escape the popularity with which he was saddled at Camborne, so he moved on into Brittany. The king of that region, whose name was similar to his own, i.e., Conan Meriadoc, wanted to arrange a prestigious marriage for him, as the Saint was a wealthy man, having been born into a ducal family, but St. Meriadoc preferred the life of a destitute hermit and gave away all his wealth to needy clerics and gave his land holdings to the poor.

"Poverty is a remover of cares
and the mother of holiness"
St. Meriadoc

As a descendant of a wealthy noble family, St. Meriadoc had dressed in purple and silk, but in later years eschewed it for rags, under which he wore a hair shirt as part of his ascetical practices. He spent his time in prayer, and caring for the sick and needy.

The saint's relatives were distressed at his discarding the trappings of his entitled station in life, so they descended upon him, in the company of the Viscount of Rohan, who importuned him to take up his privileged life once more. Instead, the saint chided him that his time would be better spent eliminating the thieves and robbers of the neighborhood. The Viscount was so affected by the words of the holy man that he followed the Saint's admonishment and bore down on the local bandits, eliminating them from that region, and thereby doing a great service to the populace, who had been suffering from the constant threat of complete penury, with all their meagre possessions at risk.

Even though Meriadoc refused the status of a fine political marriage, and gave away the rich trappings of silk and gold, he was unanimously voted Bishop of Vannes, which is located in the portion of Brittany that lies in the north-western section of France, and was one of the most important cities in the country at that time. With some trepidation, he had accepted the honor, but continued his simple life of poverty and care for the poor, nonetheless.

He is said to have cured many lepers and disabled people. He drove off the vicious highwaymen of Josselin through prayer alone.

St. Meriadoc died around the year 688 and, kissing his gathered companions in religion, exclaimed, "into your hands Lord, I commend my spirit," and threw off his mortal coil.

Behind him were left many reminders of his holy years on this earth. In addition to the miracle play above mentioned, there is a holy well attributed to him at Stival, in Brittany, as well as a bell at the local church, which is purported to eliminate migraines when placed on the head of the sufferer.

He is supposed to have made a stream of water gush from a rock (and this may be how the well came to be.) Through force of will or uttered prayers, the quelling of a storm is attributed.

It seems that everywhere his feet have trod, he left behind a blessed trace of himself, and it is a good lesson to us to realize that our efforts toward holiness do not proceed in vain. Not that we WANT to be noticed, no. But we want to know that our efforts to refine our natures, develop virtue, and become holy are worth the cost.

Saint Mariadoc lived during the 7th century and was therefore part of the canon of saints prior to the split between the Catholic and the Orthodox.  He is one of the saints that we share. The Orthodox pray to him thus:

"O, Meriadoc, holy hermit, through thy simplicity thou didst draw many souls to God. Near the church of the Mother of God in Camborne, thou didst cause a healing well to rise. We glorify God who had glorified thee."

Personally, I thank you, Saint Meriadoc, for leaving such a fine example for us to follow.

God bless us all.

Silver Rose
(c) Copyright 2024
All rights reserved.

RESOURCES:








Wednesday, October 30, 2019

"NOTHING PERSONAL," YOU SAY?


Mother Mary
in my little garden

When disagreements arise in modern life, I have noticed that some people are unable or refuse to put themselves into the place of the other guy, in their imagination. Because they cannot empathize, they cannot imagine why that person on the other side of the debate has an opinion so different from their own.

When engaging in a formal debate, definition of terms often forms a preliminary phase of the debate process so that everyone involved is "on the same page" and talking about the same thing, but modern Americans, set loose on the internet, are not taking advantage of this tool.

Refusing to attempt to understand the actual position of the other side, in a sympathetic light, and making assertions about what your opponents think, believe or want, has become common and is not productive of anything good. It just perpetuates the prejudices and discord.



"Nothing is sweeter than
to think well of others."
Saint Therese of Lisieux

It won't be news to you if I tell you that there is a lot of turmoil in our country right now. I believe that at least part of the cause of this is this disorganized approach to communication among us.

Most of my readers will remember that I am a Catholic convert with a Hindu (Vedantic) orientation. I was raised without any religion whatsoever and participated in many different faiths before converting to Catholicism about 14 years ago. While I believe in everything the Catholic Church believes and teaches, I have a tremendous amount of experience as a non-Christian American. I can easily speak to the point of view of non-Christians, as a result.

When having discussions with some of my Catholic brothers and sisters, I will often object to their characterizations of poor people, gay people, brown people, immigrants, disabled people, and other vulnerable groups. The reply I often get is, "oh, I am not talking about you." As a single, female, senior, divorced, disabled poor person, I fit into many categories of the most vulnerable groups and, having been raised in a non-Christian environment, I am intimately familiar with the lifestyle and beliefs of unchurched people.

But those good Catholic people ARE "talking about" me! They have erroneous, conspiracy-level beliefs about poor people, for instance. There is a huge amount of prejudice about the poor! Right wing people who identify as Christian will often immediately talk about drug addiction and criminality when discussing "the poor."

It isn't that I don't find drug addiction and criminality disturbing, because I DO. Since becoming disabled and poor, and after moving into low-income housing, I have been on the receiving end of quite a bit of the criminality of a segment of the poor. Several of my poor neighbors have stolen from me. The homeless who have encampments in the bosque next to the apartment complex have stolen things out of my garden and my patio, and have rifled through the drawers of the potting cabinet on the patio - looking for whatever might be useful, I suppose. My car has been broken into several times, with no more apparent motive than to scrabble around for change or valuables, leaving me with a broken side window and a creeping sensation of wonder that, although the car was parked right next to my apartment windows, I never heard a thing.

I've had neighbors aggressively try to "befriend" me just so they can get into my apartment and scope it out for possessions they might like to have. One woman spent months telling me I should just "give away" the bed I wasn't using instead of selling it, and then called me one morning and announced that her daughter-in-law had "cried with joy" at the news that SHE would be receiving this bed because she really needed one. I had not agreed to any such thing and was even FURTHER astonished when the neighbor told me she had arranged for a rental truck to come and get it and that it would be at my apartment within two hours! It dawned on me that the neighbor who had pursued my friendship had been "working me" for months, with the express purpose of divesting me of whatever possessions she liked, so I gave her the bed. I rightly guessed she would stop bugging me after she got what she wanted, and I was right. The woman came and took the bed and never spoke to me again.

Anyone who imagines I don't know what I'm talking about when discussing the criminality of the poor needs to take a step back and try another tack. The thing is, despite feeling really bad when someone steals from me or tries to manipulate me for profit, as in the case of the neighbor and the bed, I know that the thievery of the poor is just more obvious and personal than the thievery of the other classes. 

There is a percentage of people in all walks of life who will steal. I have an entirely middle-class sibling who, through a complex con that she worked on me over several months, managed to legally bar me from successfully fighting the theft of inheritance by my father's third wife - just so the sibling could take whatever scraps were available.

The wealthy classes steal from the poor and the middle class in a less direct and less personal way. I would make the case that theirs is the most reprehensible type of thievery because it relies upon the inability of the lower classes to protect themselves. I 

The thievery of poor people is more honorable, in one sense, because it is blatant and out in the open and in-your-face. I know what my neighbor stole from me when I hired her to clean my house. Likewise a second neighbor, the daughter of people I believed were my friends - she ALSO stole from me. I was able to speak to her directly about it.

But what can I do about the thievery of the rich who give one another tax breaks and talk about "trickle down economics" that no one believes is true because nothing has ever trickled down from these accomplished con artists? Millionaires and billionaires buy more luxury goods and properties for themselves while the rest of the people scrabble around for bread.





The fact is that there are no higher a percentage of criminals in the poor populations than there are in society in general. In fact, it may be quite a bit lower, because most poor people are poor because they're disabled or elderly. There is no more drug addiction among the poor than in society as a whole. It's just that people who are successful criminals have enough money to shield themselves from punishment. Drug addicts who are rich, famous, or have solid families have enough resources to support expensive rehab programs.

How many alcoholics do you think exist among the middle class and wealthy? Quite a lot. They can afford the booze. They can also afford to make it 'look' better. I have a relative who is an alcoholic. On the outside, it looks like she's a nice middle-class lady. She's got the trappings of respectability. But she is a terrible drunk. The packaging is just more attractive. She can afford to drink herself into oblivion inside an attractive home. She can also lie, cheat and steal under cover of apparent "respectability." You won't find HER in the gutter, slurring her words and vomiting her stomach contents onto the road. She does it behind closed doors.

This is why, when discussing the middle class or the wealthy, alcoholism is not the first thing that unkind people will talk about. It's the first thing mentioned when the topic of poor people arises, though. Why isn't it the first thing one hears when discussing the other socio-economic groups that have this problem? Americans are prejudiced against the poor in the same way the British in Dickens-era England were. Nothing has changed.

People want to justify their prejudice against the poor.

I am far from a perfect person, but I am not a drug addict. I don't drink. I'm not a criminal. Heck, I haven't had so much as a parking ticket in 44 years! I do not live on welfare. I have Social Security into which I paid for more than 30 years of constant work. I have no tattoos. I have lived as a celibate religious for almost two decades. I am nothing special because, aside from my formal religious vows of sannyas, I am very typical for a woman of my age. MOST poor people are like me. They've done the best they could with their lives, and they are struggling to make a go of it on very little income in their old age. 99.9% of us are NOT homeless people begging with big signs on the street corners, and shooting up drugs at night. They're the exception, not the rule. But even if ALL poor people were drug-addled, alcohol soaked n'er do wells, I ask you to remember that Jesus did not put any requirements upon poor people before they were entitled to the compassion of Christians.




"The poor man has one plea, his want and his standing
in need: do not require anything else from him; but even
if he is the most wicked of all men and is at a loss for
his necessary sustenance, let us free him from hunger."
St. John Chrysostom

Most of us have no help whatsoever. We receive "too much" income from Social Security, thanks to our work histories, but certainly not enough to pay for our needs. Some of us get help from our families, but an awful lot of us are not getting crucial needs met and are dying much sooner than necessary, as a result.

While it is common for most bloggers to avoid talking about themselves, I am taking the opposite stance, partly because my previous confessor taught me that my personal experiences can be used to advocate for others in my position.

"He who is gracious to a poor man lends to the Lord,
and He will repay him for his good deed."
Proverbs 19:17

In my own way, I am fighting the prejudices and bigotry that are so endemic in the cruel America of today. I hope to be able to help that segment of American Christians who are mentioned, above, to be able to identify, even a little bit, with those who are less fortunate than they are, and with those who disagree with them politically.

Put yourselves in my shoes, my American brothers and sisters, then survey our land through my eyes and my experience. If you can do that, you may disabuse yourselves of some of your prejudices.

God bless us all.

Silver "Rose"
Sannyasini Kaliprana

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

JESUS PUNISHED THE RICH, BUT NEVER THE POOR








As I listen to and read world news, I am disturbed by a furious trend toward punishment as the cure for every societal ill, real or imagined

Recently, for instance, I heard that the small country of Brunei has just passed a law that adulterous and homosexual acts will be punished by stoning to death.

Stoning to death.

In our country, we have a so-called "president" who instituted  a policy that directly caused thousands of children to be taken away from their parents and incarcerated in cement-floored holding cells for an indeterminate time, with no plan in place as to how the children and parents would ever be reunited - all because the family came to this country, fleeing poverty and gangs, hoping for a better life.

Their kids were taken from them because, essentially,
their papers were not in order.

Donald Trump claims, falsely, that President Obama did the same thing. He did not. Trump is lying, once again. While the occasional incidental separation of children from parents convicted of serious crimes DID take place during the Obama administration, Trump's "Zero Tolerance Policy," as announced by Jeff Sessions (many videos available of the day he announced it) is what caused a huge uptick in the number of case of children separated from their families - so much so that the incarceration of these children and the conditions under which this was carried out, is a major scandal of this administration, in part because of the THOUSANDS of children and families thus brutalized.

I could write quite a bit about the punitive temperament of Donald Trump, but I just can't bear to let my mind touch him any more than I absolutely have to, other than to say that he and the people he represents form a large block of humans whose orientation tends toward harsh penalties, incarceration, and cruel practices.

"Sell your possessions and give alms; make yourselves purses
which do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no
thief comes near, nor moth destroys. For where your treasure is,
there will your heart be also."
Luke 12:44

I have observed that the people who ignore Christ's preference for the poor, and the Biblical injunctions against the amassing of wealth, are the same people who, with angry hearts, continually castigate the poor and disadvantaged. They are the ones who revel in the punishment of lawbreakers. To them, harsh worldly laws that target the poor and disadvantaged, are more important than the commandments of Jesus and the apostles, despite many of them advertising themselves as the best Christians ever. They are the modern Pharisees.

It is all smoke and mirrors, sleight of hand, and
the Wizard of Oz behind the curtain; meant to
distract attention from the disobedience of the
modern day Pharisees for whom commerce is
their God.

To combat our cultural tendency toward this harsh punitive orientation, we need to cultivate the love of Christ and advocate for the poor and disadvantaged, just as he and his Biblical forbears did. Resist the political narrative that encourages hatred of desperate immigrants who come here searching for peace, safety, and survival. Resist the lies and obfuscations that would have everyone believe that massive numbers of people are "gaming the system," "faking disability," and illegally obtaining food for their children at our expense.

The Pharisees are using gullible people to advance their agenda, which is to further enrich themselves while feigning religiosity at the same time. In doing so, they are twisting and torturing the Christian faith beyond all recognition.

Try to stay focused on the heart of Christ and his commandments. I recommend meditation on His words. Ignore the countless justifications for cruelty that the Pharisees present to us.  Concentrate on the heart of Jesus' message, his continual preference for the poor and disadvantaged, and everything good will flow from there.

"If you wish to be complete, go and sell your
possessions and give to the poor, and you shall
have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me."
Matthew 19:20


May the Lord submerge your heart in His love.

Silver

Sunday, March 10, 2019

BUYER BEWARE - OR NOT?



Jesus Driving Out the Money Lenders From the Church
Quentin Massys




Even though I have been swindled, lied to, cheated and defrauded many times in my life, I cannot seem to effectively shield myself from being put on the losing end of nearly every business relationship. I should be a bitter and suspicious old lady, but instead I am still poised to give people the benefit of the doubt and to be trusting until someone gives me reason to be otherwise. I have tried to change this about myself, with no success, so far.



The Eye of the Needle Gate in Jerusalem


"It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of
a needle than for a rich man to enter into the Kingdom of God." 
~ Mark 10:25 ~



Those with the power (the money) in any situation are always the winners here on earth. I say this from the vantage point of a disabled, disadvantaged person for whom the arc of civilization bends toward barbarism, (apologies to dear Martin Luther King Jr. for bastardizing his beautiful quote.)

This week, I was defrauded by a furniture salesman and, after being bamboozled, I did some deeper digging on the internet and found something very interesting. The 'bad' reviews on Google, Yelp and other sites were primarily written by people who'd experienced the very thing I had! They were low income people who responded to the promise of easy financing, only to be switched to a 100% interest rate lease instead!

The "good" reviews for that outfit were mostly written by people who paid cash.

Isn't that always the way? If your life circumstances are good and you have some money to spend, merchants will fall all over themselves to serve you. If you're a disabled old lady on low income, and can least afford high priced items, disreputable merchants will take advantage of your disabilities and the needs that result from them and will try to make EXTRA money off of your misery. It really IS reprehensible.


Bactrian Camels in the Snow


The only thing that mollifies me somewhat is knowing that I am in good company. Many of the saints were not suspicious enough of other people to be truly adept at business. In fact, yesterday's saint of the day, Gregory of Nyssa, was said to be "easy-going, tactless, and inefficient in monetary matters" and he was cheated and deceived to the point that Demosthenes accused him of stealing church property and had him imprisoned! Somehow, the innocent party in business is usually the one who loses his shirt, so to speak.


Saint Gregory of Nyssa

Granted, Saint Gregory was not a saint because he was lousy at business, but sometimes the spiritual inclination of a soul will certainly present itself in this manner.

I am also reminded of Saint Therese of Lisieux, who found joy in thinking well of others.


"Nothing is sweeter than to think well of others."
~ Saint Therese of Lisieux ~




I have also noticed that suspicious attitudes toward other persons are very often lessened during those times when I am praying the most, such as now, during Lent, when the soul hovers more closely to the Lord through his suffering. Thus, there is something about my prayer life that is not serving me well in my negotiations through the day-to-day logistics of life on this planet.

It is not clear to me what I am supposed to glean from this state of affairs. Do I deliberately develop a more calculating and suspicious world view?

Or, do I do the more challenging thing? Do I stop trying to address the needs of my broken down old body, reduce my possessions (as recommended by our Lord) and follow Him without sleep or comforts for the pain-wracked old carcass which I blame for my inability to devote myself more forcefully to spiritual disciplines?

When I figure it out, I will let you know.

In the meantime, God bless us all.

Silver Rose Parnell




Tuesday, April 3, 2018

INTERNET SERVICE IS DEGRADING - BLOGGING WILL BE LIMITED

The internet service I have been using is the cheapest available, but it is no longer working most of the time. It takes me HOURS to get the simplest task accomplished online. The connection gets lost hundreds of times every day, and I have to do the same functions over and over again.

The telephone lines are 30 years old and were not meant to carry internet.  Telephone company repairmen have all told me that, if I was living in a house, rather than a large apartment complex, it would be a simple matter to get the internet directly to the outside wall and bypass the old wires, but I am not allowed to do that in the large apartment complex where I live.

I am not able to afford better service. Comcast pretty much has the monopoly on THAT.

Many years ago, I had responded to a "special" that Comcast was running. I had to subscribe to television service in order to get the internet. It is one of the arbitrary rules that they impose in order to sucker the consumer into purchasing things they do not need.

After the technician installed the equipment, I could not get it to work properly. I could not get very many channels. The internet was slow. The voice remote was not working.

I assumed that it was "operator error" since I am not technologically savvy, in many ways. It was a few months before I finally gave up trying to "learn" how to work the equipment and I called them and had them send out ANOTHER technician. That technician advised me that I had been set up with the wrong equipment, the wrong channels, the wrong service. I had been paying top dollar for what we affectionately call "ghetto cable" here in poor town.

I cancelled Comcast service because of all this mess, and now they claim I OWE THEM $211 ! They owe ME, but it is impossible to get through to them.

I refuse to pay these con artists a single cent for "services" I did not receive. I tried to talk to them about it this morning, but, of course, the woman barely spoke English and just kept repeating that her "system" is telling her that I owe them money. She refused to acknowledge anything I said to her about the previous experience, and just kept repeating the same thing, like a machine. Perhaps I WAS speaking to a machine. I do not know.

Something in the back of my mind also tells me that committing myself to another big bill, even if I were to get enough donations to cover the expenses, is NOT a good idea for an independent religious person.

Being disabled, it is almost impossible to live without cable, but I CAN live with and struggle with the horrible service that I have now, which is at least half as cheap as Comcast. It takes me ten times as long to shop or do anything else on the internet with this horrible service, so I will have to give up some things that are not necessary. Perhaps God wants me to pray more and compute less?

In any case, what this means for the blog is that blogging will be very limited. Do not be alarmed if I do not post for some time. The page is still active. The donation button works. I am still reachable. Feel free to comment. That is the easiest way to communicate with me. Otherwise, you can look me up on Facebook, where I have a presence.

God bless you all. I shall continue to pray for you.

Silver Rose

Monday, February 19, 2018

SLEEP WITH THE ANGELS


Bedroom suite


I have a beautiful bedroom suite which is fairly new, but by the time I finished paying for it, I was already having trouble sleeping in it, due to scoliosis and other back issues.

It has been a couple years since I slept in the bed, but it occupies the bedroom, sitting there like a giant toad, eating up all the space I COULD be using for something else. It is a mammoth thing, made of very heavy wood, cherry colored, with a padded faux leather backrest on each side. The foot rest is very handy to hold onto when I am changing my shoes or some such thing,and that is all it is good for, with the exception of hosting boxes of sewing gear and baskets of laundry.

Back pillows, knee pillows, leg pillows - I have tried them all, to no avail. I cannot sleep in the bed.

Dreams are something in my distantly remember past. I do not know the last time I had a sleeping dream, as opposed to a nightmare, but even nightmares elude me, as I have been sleeping in reclining chairs, and I never really go fully "under."

A few years ago, I priced mechanical mattresses - the kind that folds you up so that back and knees can both be elevated, with a mattress made of a special kind of foam. As soon as I lay in it and adjusted the level of lift for back and legs, I felt my whole body relax, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I could tell that sleeping on that bed would be like sleeping on clouds, sleeping with the angels.

THAT bed was $3,000 three years ago. Amazon has one for for about $1,000 right now - but the mattress is only 12 inches, and I can't believe it would accommodate my commodious frame!

The costs of disability are enormous, if you actually address the needs of the body. I used to sleep on a mattress on the floor when I was younger. It didn't phase me. Now,  the idea of going to sleep is stressful. Can you imagine?

Every time I have a need, I start to calculate. If I were to sell the bed and the matching carved end tables, I might be able to buy a little twin bed, and pray that my tall body would find rest on it, but I have no idea to whom I would sell my current set. I cannot have strangers coming to the apartment, etc. etc.

I am disgusted by the body's constant NEED for things, sick and tired of fretting over how I can possibly afford to address its needs! Really, it makes me want to throw my hands up in the air, scream, and throw something.

I think back over my life and wonder, how did I end up like this? It isn't as if I tried to be alone. It is just how things worked out. I started out as a nun in a Hindu convent and then converted to Christianity, but none of the Catholic institutions wanted an ex Hindu nun. It is a bridge too far for them, I suppose, and you really can't blame them. They imagine all sorts of things. Now, I am far too old and too sick to even pretend I might be of any use. I did try to marry, a long time ago, but that wasn't meant to be.

In any case, I have given myself to God, but God is surprisingly UNHELPFUL. You would think He would step up, but he doesn't.

Please pray that He becomes a little more responsive, as I am gradually losing hope, and fear I will lose my mind if I don't get some relief. Just say a quick prayer for me, if you would.

God save us all.
(c) Copyright 2018
Silver Rose Parnell

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

THE SECRET OF THE COST OF LIVING INDEX

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

The Consumer Price Index upon which Social Security cost of living adjustments are based, actually deals with the spending patterns of younger WORKING individuals who buy high ticket items like cars, fancy telephones, electronics, etc.

Low income, older seniors, however, spend most of their money on rent, food, and utilities, therefore, our cost of living increases do not come anywhere near to addressing our ACTUAL cost of living.

Consequently, every year, we get poorer and poorer. Therefore, the longer one remains on Social Security, i.e., the longer you live, the further down the socio-economic ladder you descend.

This is not just a little bit true, this is true by a large amount. Let me give you an example:

This year, my cost of living increase is $5.10 a month. Yep. Five dollars and ten cents a month. That's $61.20 a year.

My COSTS, however, such as rent, medical insurance, medical co-pays, car insurance, utilities, are increasing by $515.10 this year, AT A MINIMUM, since I have no way of knowing how much food costs will increase. This means that I am "in the hole" a further $453.90 this year, at minimum.

This has been going on for twelve (12) years.

This is why I am frantically trying to figure out how to increase the income into my household. I'm always talking about it. How could I NOT? I am drowning in this dishonest, rigged system, despite having worked and paid taxes for more than 30 years.

Why should you care? Because some day, you could be in my position.

Of course, my situation is much worse than many women, who are better off, thanks to the incomes of their husbands and the help of their children and extended family. I don't have ANY of that.

Thanks be to God, I was gifted with many many talents, and I have faith that the Lord will help me to survive with those. It is almost as if He is FORCING me to use those gifts, so I am writing, painting, crocheting my little fingers off, hoping to keep myself afloat and not end up homeless. I also am a professional genealogy researcher, but no one wants to pay the fees. They want me to give them everything for free. I don't do that any more.

JUST IN CASE you have need of genealogy research, and you would like me to make you a nice little tree, you can order my services online at this link:

HIRE MY GENEALOGY RESEARCH SERVICES

JUST IN CASE you would like to help me survive, I have several Amazon wish lists where I have included all sorts of items I need to maintain myself and my little creative outlets. Here are the links:

LINK TO GENERAL LIST OF MOST-NEEDED ITEMS RIGHT NOW

LINK TO FIBER ART SUPPLIES

LINK TO FINE ART SUPPLIES FOR PAINTINGS

LINK TO FOOD SUPPLIES FOR THE PANTRY

LINK TO VITAMINS AND OTHER HEALTH NEEDS

Really, I'm not expecting much, as far as anyone else ordering from my lists, but I like to have them in a handy spot for my own reference.

I remember when I became disabled, the Swami told me, "Poverty makes you lose your virtue." I think it may be partially true, as it certainly has dragged my attention away from the Lord.

Being disabled is really the problem. I had wanted to just gracefully float through my final years, offering it all up and praying to the Lord through whatever came my way, but, you know, it is just not that simple. It is a mighty struggle.

The best I can do, I think, is ASPIRE to the consciousness of Brother Lawrence who, amid the pots and pans, prayed to the Lord while he scrubbed the dirty dishes.

I am sure, on some level, that the humility that disability and poverty bring, are very good for me. I feel like I am just groveling in the dirt, trying to create a living out of it. It's all good. It MUST be good, because God brings ALL things to the good for those that believe in Him. Amen.

God bless us all.

Silver Rose






Monday, February 6, 2017

PLEASE PRAY FOR THE HERMIT



Things are looking more and more bleak, and I am beginning to understand the loss of heart, faith and hope among the poor.

Today, I woke from a nap to see a strange man staring at me through my window while fondling himself with a red bandana. I freaked out, of course, jumped up from my chair and did my best to wake myself up as soon as possible. I had the typical vertigo that I get when I awake, and it took a few minutes to get my bearings and try to decide what to do. My PTSD adrenaline kicked in automatically. I was spinning around the apartment.

Eventually, I heard a voice outside my door. I opened it to find the transient leaning against the opposite wall where there was an open electrical outlet. (The painters had been using it for their multiple electrical machineries and didn't bother to reinstall the locking cap.) He was talking on his cell phone while he continued to steal the electricity from the building.

The man was about 5 feet 10 inches tall, red haired, highly freckled. He was carrying a big black backpack that was wide open and revealed what appeared very much to be a policeman's baton. You can do a lot of damage with one of those.

My automatic reaction was to yell at him and tell him to get lost. What I didn't know is that he'd been there long enough to defecate ON THE SIDEWALK near my window.

I was flabbergasted, and running hot on adrenaline. I'd called a neighbor with whom I'm friendly. She's older than I am and a little more beaten up, but I wanted some company while I walked the dog. It was time for him to do his business and I didn't feel safe in the parking lot yet.

My neighbor didn't like it that I was upset and reeling from the experience, and she attempted to calm me down by telling me to calm down, which never works,of course. I don't know why people do that. Even though it is natural to be upset about something so bizarre happening to a person, they tell you relax, even though it is stupid and impossible. Perhaps the upset makes them nervous or uncomfortable. They can't themselves remain calm in the presence of someone who has been severely jangled.

There are some circumstances under which being calm is NOT the answer. Generally, I am calm, and I enjoy it, but when transients are violating your dignity through a plate glass window and depositing feces on the sidewalk before casually stealing electricity, being calm would be rather odd, in my mind.

I had to call the maintenance man, completely oblivious that it is super bowl Sunday and that he was most certainly watching the game. He did come out during half time, and I think he is a real brick for doing it. He cleaned up the feces from the sidewalk outside my window while the police office talked to me about what had happened.

We were promised that the police would keep an eye on us tonight, with the hope that the locking plate for the electrical outlet would be fixed ASAP.

This has happened before. Whenever the plate over the electrical outlet goes missing, word gets around the homeless population and there ensues a constant stream of transients outside my door, bellowing their odd personal business into their cell phones while the cell phone charges at the same time.

I told the police officer that I understand that most of these homeless people just CANT live like the rest of us do. If you put them into an apartment, they wouldn't know how to live there. Camping out in the Bosque is preferable to some people, even in the biting cold of winter. I crochet hats for them and give them to the Joy Junction people who send their van out on the cold nights to pick up the willing homeless and take them to their facility. They give the hats to the ones who refuse to go, the ones they leave behind. It isn't just poverty that keeps them in the street or in the Bosque. It's temperament and/or insanity. I understand. I am unusual, in my own way, and, although I have no problem living indoors, I have other problems with some parts of civilization with which most people have no problem coping. Perhaps coping isn't the word, really, because for most people these things are not problems at all.

For the last three years I have been trying to find another place to live, someplace near friends who have middle class lives, near middle class grocery stores. They have comfortable old houses, with landscaping of varying pleasantness. Nothing too fancy. I like it there, in the middle of the road of life. I don't crave excitement, but rather ordinariness and calm.

These friends, with their large families and regular church attendance and duties, are special to me. They are kind to me, and loving. They have been trying to get me to live closer to them so they can help me easier, but finding something suitable and affordable has proven to be impossible, so far. After 3 years, they won't say they would give up. They are sturdier stock than that! They won't give up, but I think they may also be losing hope.

All of the affordable housing is located outside the magical realm of the nice middle class neighborhoods and grocery stores. Every single one is in an awful part of town, on a busy main street. Nothing is available in any residential neighborhood. It is almost as if it was PLANNED that way...a plan to keep the poor away from anything pretty, good, nice or decent.

I wonder if the city planners, when they think of poor people, imagine people like the man who left excrement on my sidewalk. When people talk about what to do about the poor, is it them that they think of? In reality, poor people are mostly elderly and disabled. The homeless, in reality, take up less than 1% of the poor, but they are so visible and their behavior so memorable that they overshadow the rest of us - those who know how to keep an apartment and pay our bills.

If I was a saint, I wouldn't be so distraught. I would not concern myself with my comfort. I would simply feel sorry for the man who is so broken that he would do the things he did tonight outside my window. In reality, I feel trapped and sorrowful, stuck in an ugly life that has room for these kind of atrocities. I feel incapable of wanting to rise to sainthood. I don't even WANT to be comfortable with what has happened here tonight. Not a shred of my being is interested in self-abnegation.

I think about Mother Theresa and the hardships she CHOSE. I wish I was a better person. I don't know whether or not to pray for the courage to remain here, happily, without complaint...or run screaming to some other town or state or SOMEWHERE, anywhere but here, where the stains of that man still mar the sidewalk.

It is a sad night, my friends. Please pray for the little Hermit, that I may become better than I am.

God bless us all.

Silver Rose

Tuesday, November 1, 2016

THE POOR DON'T OWE YOU ANYTHING




If an American makes $50,000 a year, he or she will pay about seven (7) dollars per year into the welfare system that supports the indigent on the bottom third of the poverty spectrum.

An in-depth analysis of the facts and statistics was done very nicely HERE on the blog Soapboxie. There are numerous other sources on the internet that echo this information, but I like the charts that this author provides, as well as the way he explains them. Very nice work, on his part.

In return for that seven dollars, a great number of tax payers are exceedingly interested in the activities of that person who receives that seven (7) dollars. They have a lot of opinions about what the poor, disabled and vulnerable should do in exchange for that tiny bit of assistance, and most of those opinions are damn mean.

In addition, the ratio of amount of assistance given, compared to the amount of control some people want over the recipients, would be hysterical if it weren't so sad. To be so focused on the money that drizzles into the pockets of the poor, while the corporate robber barons are emptying our bank accounts just doesn't make any sense.

Jesus would be appalled.

I do not receive any welfare, since I live on the Social Security that accumulated after working more than 33 years, but I very occasionally receive a donation on this blog. The cost of bringing internet into the home far exceeds the pittance I receive in donations, on a year by year basis. (I had hoped that the blog would at least pay for itself but unfortunately, it does not. I refuse to junk up my page with ads from marketers, however. I figure that, at the very least, I can give my readers a respite from the constant flow of sales pitches by corporations that they have to endure on every other page they access.)

Of the very few who donate, most are extremely kind. Others, in the guise of kindness, will assail me with a barrage of unsolicited "advice" that is not only unnecessary, but would also be insulting, if I was inclined toward that sort of response.

Although I have no choice as to whether or not I will be poor, the vast majority of monastics throughout time have been poor by choice and by chance. Ideally, it is a chosen thing, a sacrifice made for God. Even if poverty is thrust upon a monastic by circumstance, we are encouraged to embrace it. When poverty impinges upon the ability of the monastic to perform his or her functions, measures have to be taken to alleviate it. Poverty, in its essence, is not a "good" thing, but a tool in the hands of the spiritual aspirant.

Consequently, most monasteries rely upon a combination of donations and some type of work of the hands that they may sell. Whether it is coffee, candies, rosaries or liquor, most monastics have to produce something for sale in order to survive. In days gone by, most monasteries and convents survived by gifts alone, but modern times find us with far fewer devoted Christians who understand the value of what the monastic "produces" by his or her presence and prayers. Sadly, Westerners are capitalists first and Christians second, in most cases.

Being disabled and gradually becoming more so, I do not have the capacity to produce anything to any meaningful extent, which is why I have a donation request on my front page. Still, there are people who will insist upon gifting me with their opinion of what I must do to produce something worthy of payment. It is exhausting, especially since they fail to observe that I am already doing something worthy.

After trying, and failing, to get me to live under her rule, a recent small donor has gone off in a huff and unfollowed my blog. A relative who gave me a television similarly subjected me to an overbearingd brow-beating. Another who sent me a book a year or two ago erupted into a tirade of name-calling and public excoriation because I will not vote for her political candidate. Unfortunately, these people felt entitled to control my actions after contributing an extremely small amount to the household. People complain that the poor feel entitled, but my experience of life is the opposite. It is those who give with big strings attached who have a sense of entitlement.

The Bible tells us to invite those persons to our banquets who cannot afford to return a similar invitation. I definitely cannot afford to turn my life over to those who give me a few dollars. I have already given that life to God, and it is not for sale.

I have vacillated back and forth about whether or not to continue the blog or if I should dedicate the time spent writing it to some other endeavor. For the time being, I will keep it, because there are more than a few readers who tell me that their condition mirrors mine and that they receive encouragement and grace from my words.

Just as Jesus used parables to instruct, I offer the small circumstances of my life as an example that can be extrapolated to an understanding of the conditions of the poor, disabled and discarded in America, in order to rouse love in the hearts of those who denigrate the poor, and to support the faithful Christian in whom love already flows but who suffers from living in a hostile angry world.

God bless us all.

Silver Rose Parnell