By Kathleen Gerwin

Over spring break, I did something I never usually get a chance to do (or admit to doing). Dressed in my most impossibly soft pair of sweats, with chips in hand, I plopped down on the couch, flipped on the TV and spent a couple of hours watching junk food for the mind, also known as Reality TV.

What is it about reality TV that’s so intoxicating—or so repulsive—to so many? It certainly evokes strong reactions either way—people may love it unabashedly or love it guiltily; they may find it vapid, deeming it worthless trash and never deign to watch, or find it vapid and just not be able to look away. No matter what the reaction, one can’t deny that Reality TV has firmly planted itself in our collective psyche. The question is: Why?

St. Ignatius Loyola may have some insight for us. One of Ignatius’ core teachings is the practice of Finding God in All Things. I think the operative word in the teaching is “finding”, meaning that while the pearl of wisdom might not immediately be apparent, all experiences are an invitation to go deeper if we are willing.

But surely Ignatius wasn’t anticipating a world populated by the Kardashian sisters or the Real Housewives of Atlanta—or was he? Perhaps one answer is that these shows embody parts of ourselves that we are unwilling to admit are there—parts of ourselves that scare or repulse us so much that we need them to be externalized, embodied by someone else. That way they stay safe and “other” and never really demand us to see them as part of us.

If I have decided that Kim Kardashian is vapid and superficial and feel just a little bit better about myself because of it, I never have to look at the ways in which I, too, am vapid or superficial. If I am outraged that there is a mom who would put her 2-year-old in a beauty pageant, I never really have to acknowledge the part of myself that is insecure about my parenting because I have such a clear example of a “Really Bad Mom.”

In therapy or spiritual work, one of our jobs is to befriend those parts of ourselves we would rather reject and embrace those parts of ourselves that we are ashamed of. To do this, we must be brave enough to acknowledge that these parts of exist. I’m not saying that you should swap your meditation practice for a Jersey Shore marathon, but we can begin to see all of life as an invitation to do just this. It could be really fun.

PHOTO: L'Osservatore Romano

As I knelt in prayer after communion one Sunday morning, I became aware that my praying had been subliminally replaced by the words of the hymn being sung by the choir.  It was a sweet melody, and the lyrics had grabbed hold of my soul:

Loving and forgiving are you, O Lord,
slow to anger; rich in kindness,
loving and forgiving are you.

(You Tube: Psalm 103: Loving and Forgiving)

I stayed on my knees savoring the significance of the words, realizing how blessed I was to be the recipient of God’s love and forgiveness.  The hymn ended, but the lyrics continued to demand my attention. I imagined myself to be loving and forgiving, slow to anger, and rich in kindness. I thought “how awesome that would be.”

The themes of love and forgiveness are not new to Christians.  They echo through religious writings, and occur often in the Bible.  In Colossians, Chapter 3, we learn that “if one has a grievance against another; as the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do.”  In that same chapter, St. Paul reminds us to put on “heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience” (v. 12), and “over all these things, put on love, that is, the bond of perfection” (v. 14).

Practicing love and forgiveness is usually associated with spirituality, but it does not reside there alone.  If not in our personal lives, as pastoral counselors, we encounter clients whose health and/or relationships are compromised by an inability to forgive and love.  Oftentimes they believe that expressions of love or forgiveness might be misinterpreted for weakness.  Therefore, our initial task might sometimes be to help our clients release themselves from bondage by practicing forgiveness.  We help them recognize how challenging it is to love when filled with rage and resentment. Forgiveness offers them freedom to love.

What happens when one refuses to forgive?

If you’re unforgiving, you might pay the price repeatedly by bringing anger and bitterness into every relationship and new experience.  Your life might become so wrapped up in the wrong that you can’t enjoy the present.  You might become depressed or anxious.  You might feel that your life lacks meaning or purpose, or that you’re at odds with your spiritual beliefs.  You might lose valuable and enriching connectedness with others. (Mayo Clinic)

We can reverse those symptoms.  When we love and forgive we imitate Jesus, who with his dying breath asked his heavenly father “forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).  We must strive to love and forgive as our heavenly father loves and forgives us.  “God never gets tired of forgiving us; it is we who get tired of asking for forgiveness” (Pope Francis I).

By the time you read this blog, millions of people will have already attended an Easter service on Sunday. Many parishioners will have purchased new clothes, and numerous churches will have spent money to make sure that their buildings and the worship experience are as attractive as possible. There will be plays, dramatizations, special guests, and special effects. In an overheard conversation, one pastor even called Easter Sunday, “Showtime”.

I thought long and hard about that statement. What exactly are churches offering on “Showtime” Easter Sunday? And why is that offering not compelling enough to encourage persons to come back before Easter of the next year? Is that an indication of their lack of religious conviction or an indictment of the relevance of the Church? Many churches are reporting that attendance is dropping and it is not beyond belief to wonder if eventually Easter will just become another Sunday.

I don’t think it has to be that way. Even in our age of smartphones, tablets, and virtual-almost-everything, I still believe that the community church is relevant and necessary. There are challenges that the Church must address. How does the Church really feel about marriage equality and why are so many Church marriages failing? What does the Church really think about issues like gun control, poverty, and equal rights? Has there ever really been a separation between Church and State and, if so, what are the boundaries? These are questions that need answers and not all of those answers are easy to obtain. And most of the people who found their way into Church doors on Easter cared more about the love they felt rather than the answers to those questions.

So maybe rather than Showtime, it is “time to show” the love of Jesus in a relevant way. It is “time to show” that church members are not perfect, just persistent. It is “time to show” that wearing the right attitude is more important than wearing the right clothes and that what you are driving is far less important than what is driving you. For the Church it is time to show that compassion, forgiveness, redemption, hope, and love are really the most impressive things that can ever be shown. So is it Showtime? Yes, every single Sunday; hopefully, the Church will make sure to show the right things!

by Andrea Noel

At a recent visit to my alma mater, I encountered a group of students who chose to participate in the annual Alternative Spring Break (ASB) Program. ASB is a weeklong service learning experience that students voluntarily substitute for entertaining vacations during spring break. ASB is spread nationally and internationally, involves graduates and undergraduates, and responds to the needs of marginalized populations.

Throughout the week, students live together and work in teams at various sites providing services to forgotten residents in local communities. Each day, they reflect on their encounters at these sites. During my visit with the Washington D.C. ASB team, I witnessed meaningful thoughts students shared about people they met at schools, homeless shelters, and hospices.

One particular student shared that there exists this overwhelming need for change in the world. In Washington D.C. there are too many homeless people, individuals dying of AIDS/HIV, children abused and neglected, schools closing and over-crowded, violent crimes increasing, and fixed unemployment rates. This student said it seems impossible for one week of service to make any difference in the lives of individuals who encounter so much scarcity, violence, or disregard. The student believed the work of the week seemed hopeless.

After hearing this, I recalled a prayer attributed to Archbishop Oscar Romero. This prayer was written by Bishop Ken Untener, of Saginaw, November 1979, in celebration of the lives of departed priests.

“…The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise
that is God’s work. Nothing we do is complete…the Kingdom always lies beyond
us.

No statement says all that could be said.

No prayer fully expresses our faith…

No pastoral visit brings wholeness.

No program accomplishes the Church’s mission…

This is what we are about.

We plant the seeds that one day will grow.

We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development…

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.

This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.

It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an

opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master

builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.

We are prophets of a future not our own.[1]”
Amen.

May this prayer shape our ways of being present to those we serve as pastoral counselors and spiritual caregivers. Although problems around us seem monumental, let us do whatever we can with love and care.

By Kate Gerwin

“Thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me. I‘d like to discuss the most efficient way for me complete the program…”

The words come back to me like it was yesterday. At the ripe old age of 25, the specter of 30 loomed large in the distance like an exacting track coach, ready to record my time; I was beginning to feel the pressure to “have something to show for myself,”…not that I would have admitted that to anyone—or God forbid to myself—at the time. Having attended Loyola as an undergrad Theology major, I had long been familiar with the Pastoral Counseling program and knew that something felt right about it to me; the marriage of spirituality and psychology excited me in a way I couldn’t yet name, but I somehow knew I needed to be a part of what it entailed. My desire was sincere and my heart was open, and yet I couldn’t shake the culturally prescribed feeling that I had to get it all done NOW… or better yet, yesterday. 

Without hesitating, Dr. Filakowski smiled knowingly and offered what might be the best advice I’ve received to date, “Try not to speed up the process too much.”

And that is exactly what my time in the Pastoral Counseling program has been; a process. Not necessarily a linear one, not always a “successful” one, but certainly a life changing one. It has been the process of learning to accept where I am and who I am— a person full of flaws and contradictions, gifts and graces. It has been a process of learning how to press into those parts of myself that scare me and cause me to recoil; and to freely gift those parts of me that I love, without expectation of return. It has been a process of learning to wait expectantly while immersing myself in the moment and a process that challenges me to constantly reexamine what I knew to be true. It is a process that has helped me to become more compassionate, more open minded and even, more patient. Though I hope to graduate in May of 2015 (after 30, I might add), I hope it is a process that never ends.

Name: Kathleen “Kate” Gerwin
Program: MS Pastoral Counseling

1. How far along are you in the program?
   I have 6 classes left to go and all of my clinical internship to complete.
2. Favorite Quote:
   “I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think.” – Rumi
3. Favorite spot in Baltimore:
   So many!! The Charles Theatre, One World Café, the BMA, Atwater’s Bakery, Camden Yards… the list goes on!
4. Where is your hometown?
   McLean, VA—but I have been adopted by Baltimore and plan to make it my hometown for good… Go Ravens!
5. What is the most meaningful class you’ve taken?
   Introduction to Pastoral Counseling with Dr. Dee Preston Dillon.
6. Who is your inspiration?
   My spiritual director Fran—no one has taught me more about authenticity and the free, exhilarating, occasionally terrifying but always beautiful gift of life than she has.
7. What are three unusual things about yourself?
   1. Growing up, I wanted to be a spy or a queen.
   2. I am a pretty big nerd (and I own it!) about holistic living and dieting.
   3. I rescue bugs.
8. What is your dream job?
   Working at a “Wellness Center” in which traditional therapy and “alternative” medicine are combined—being able to focus on and heal the WHOLE person! Writing and speaking would be in there too somewhere. If I didn’t want to go into this field, I would want to be a fundraiser for a non-profit.
9. What else should the readers of Making Meaning know about you? 
    I’m happiest when I’m outdoors; I love to do yoga and dance and plan to get my yoga teacher’s license this summer; I consider guacamole to be a food group unto itself; I am very interested in the Enneagram and plan to become a certified Enneagram practitioner; my favorite movie is “It’s A Wonderful Life”; I’m a social introvert; I love exploring new places, whether it’s a new city or a new shop around the corner; I am a big fan of black sharpies and a compulsive  “thank you” note writer; my friends, family and community mean the world to me.

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Name: Andrea A. Noel
Program: MA Pastoral and Spiritual Care

1. How far along are you in the program?
   I am in my first year.
2. Favorite Quote:
   “The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering.” - Ben Okri
3. Where is your hometown?
   San Fernando, Trinidad, by way of Valdosta, Georgia
4. What is the most meaningful class you’ve taken?
   Theological Anthropology and Group Spiritual Formation
5. Who is your inspiration?
   My family… especially my older brother.
6. What are three unusual things about yourself?
   1. I graduated from high school at age 16.
   2. I have two nose rings.
   3. I wear a lot of purple.
7. What is your dream job?
   Being an entrepreneur as a spiritual director, success coach, writer, artise, and having my own retreat center.
8. What else should the readers of Making Meaning know about you?
   I am! I am a daughter, sister, wife, friend, lover, artist, student, teacher, thinking, engineer, writer, dreamer, believer, cat-lover, contemplative, healer, cook, photographer… IamGod.

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by Kathleen Gerwin

Lent just might be my favorite season. That’s not something I advertise and certainly not something I lead with at cocktail parties. When most people hear the word “Lent,” it usually brings to mind images of Girl Scout cookies deferred and pizza every Friday for a month, not to mention oh-so-fun terms like sacrifice and self-deprivation.

This used to be my view of Lent—40 days of chocolate-less Facebook deprivation. For the past few years however, I have been picking a different Lenten commitment to practice over 40 days and it has caused me to fall in love with this beautiful, misunderstood season.

This Lent, I chose gratitude. When I set out to practice gratitude, I had no idea the riches I would discover. I knew that grateful people were happier, healthier, lived longer, and were just more enjoyable to be around. I was excited to focus on all of the riches in my life that I often miss because I’m “too busy” or unaware. What I was really interested in, however, was how this practice might help me to become more thankful for the things that I’m not naturally inclined to be grateful for, like that co-worker who just won’t stop talking while I am furiously working, or the fender bender on my way to  class . . . or even the relationship where my trust was betrayed.

As I have practiced gratitude over the last 30 days or so, I have not found that the interruptions, disappointments and hurts have ceased—if anything, I am even more aware of them. What I have found is that these moments where gratitude seems impossible have opened me up to the opportunity that the moment presents. American Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron writes beautifully on this topic. Rather than being originally sinful, Sr. Chodron sees people as originally wounded. Each one of us has a tender place of vulnerability or hurt that we go throughout life trying guard. Sometimes we’re successful at guarding the spot and we feel like life is good and everything is as it should be. Sometimes, however, we fail to defend our wound and stuff gets in—people annoy us or disappoint us or even fail us and we have to experience the pain of our wounding all over again.

It is at these times, however, that we are offered the opportunity to really heal  ourselves. When stuff “gets in” and our defenses break down, that is when we have the chance to become our authentic selves and connect with the fact that we are worthy and loved just as we are and there is no need to go through life with walls up. Suddenly, life becomes more spacious and gentle. The universe is a kinder, more joyful place to be. And that is certainly something to be grateful for.

Unlike pastoral counselors who use a therapeutic method based on a theory such as: Adlerian, Freudian, Person-Centered, Gestalt, or Cognitive Behavioral, spiritual directors are much more free-form. We generally do not give homework to our directees, nor do we set goals for them. We are taught that the directee sets the agenda.  Our job is to listen for the Holy Spirit, discern God’s action, and to assist in cooperating with it. The Holy Spirit is the actual spiritual director.

We say things like: “What do you think God is inviting you to in that situation?”  “Where is evidence of God acting there?”  “Have you prayed about it?”  “Why do you perceive that God is not responding to you?” and “What do you discern when you pay attention to your interior movements?”

During my spiritual direction internship, we (my spiritual directees and I) had an education process to go through and a steep learning curve.  Some of them discontinued the process, and others never were really engaged in it at all. Perhaps spiritual direction was not what they expected?  Analogous to when Vernon Ware lamented about his counselees in his excellent article “The Nerve of Some Clients,” perhaps my directees had one idea of what their experience of spiritual direction should be and I had another.

I am in my last semester in the M.A. in Spiritual and Pastoral Care program on the spiritual direction track.  I am in the throes of writing my professional seminar paper and working out how I will respond to resistance in spiritual direction . . . more to come on that subject in an upcoming blog article.

I am far from having all the answers, but what I do know is that I want to meet my spiritual directees in the middle somewhere so that we can take each others’ hands, and together navigate that sometimes arduous journey of the spiritual life. I want us all to one day see God’s loving face smiling back at us.  After all, isn’t that the purpose of why we are here in the first place?

On February 28, 2013, our Holy Father Pope Benedict XVI became the first pope in 600 years to retire as head of the Catholic Church.  As I reflected on what this meant for me as a Catholic, I realized what a great act of submission this might have been for our Pope Emeritus, and the significance of it occurring during the holy season of Lent.

In my youth, Lent was synonymous with personal deprivation. We were expected to give up something meaningful and to abstain from meat and poultry on Ash Wednesday and on Fridays. Any digression warranted a trip to confession. Although I still abstain from meat on the required days, my Lenten practices have transitioned from deprivation to thanksgiving.

Lent culminates with Easter, which celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ. It is significant because it brings meaning to our faith. St. Paul reminds us that if Christ had not been raised, our faith would be useless and we would still be in our sins. Therefore, I strive to make my Lenten journey less about what I give up and more about what I can do. It is about preparation, thanksgiving, and being engaged prayerfully and reflectively to celebrate Jesus Christ’s victory over sin and death.

Options for Lenten practices include community prayer, such as Stations of the Cross, daily Rosary recitations, and daily Mass, or personal prayer and daily devotions.  Another means of service is to contribute to the Catholic Relief Services Rice Bowl project, a simple yet meaningful way to fulfill St. James’ directive in his New Testament letter:

If a brother or sister has nothing to wear and has no food for the day, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well,” but you do not give them the necessities of the body, what good is it?  So also faith of itself, if it does not have works, is dead. (James 2:15-17).

This is my personal perspective, and one that I feel honored to share. It is not intended to represent the views of the Pastoral Counseling program at Loyola University, Maryland, which is home to many faiths and Christian denominations.

As the journey towards Easter continues, I encourage everyone to be mindful of each other, and the blessings that we have individually and collectively received. I pray for our Pope Emeritus, that his decision was one of acceptance of God’s will. I especially pray that we acknowledge God’s favor in our lives with generous and prayerful acts of thanksgiving.