The Titanic sank, in April of 1912. The next day, the headline of a famous newspaper was devoted entirely and exclusively to the death of the multimillionaire, John Jacob Astor. At the end of the article, the newspaper almost casually mentioned the other 1800 people who died. The other 1800 were not that important. Such is the attitude of the world and many public media, but not God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. The Lord is concerned about every single person and no person is lost in the crowd, however unimportant that person may be in the eyes of the world.~William Barclay
Each new community is called forth by God, as he inspires a particular man or woman or a group of people to respond to a specific cry or need of humanity at one particular moment of history. This cry can be very obvious: the cry of the dying in the streets of Calcutta or of the street kids in New York or of people with physical and mental handicaps. Or else it can be a more hidden cry: the need of the sixth-century Church for oases of prayer, the need of the thirteenth-century Church in Assisi for communities close to the poor. There is a cry hidden in the heart of God, of the Church and of the saints to give life. And finally, there are the hidden tears of the rich floundering in their wealth and the pain of their selfishness, emptiness, illusions, error and sinfulness, as they search for meaning. Each new community with its founder has a specific charism, gift and mission, responding to a particular cry for help, for recognition and for love.
By Jean Vanier, Community and Growth
Whoever joins God’s liberation movement must be content to spend time in the wilderness, to live in tents and not know what the morrow brings.
By Elizabeth O’Connor
For Jay St. John, happiness -- euphoria, actually -- is a new kidney from an unlikely source.
"I feel great, just great," St. John says as he gestures with open arms, as though welcoming his restored life.
After years of illness and six months of dialysis, St. John, the 60-year-old headmaster at Episcopal Day School in Southern Pines, received a gift of immeasurable value medically, emotionally and spiritually.
The kidney transplanted on May 5 at the UNC Kidney Center in Chapel Hill was volunteered by 27-year-old artist, musician, teacher and cabinetmaker Jonathan Brower, who is neither relative nor old friend -- but a good match. Success was immediate.
By Peter M. Carey
At my family’s cottage on Cape Cod, there is a bird feeder place in the middle of the front yard. It has been there for 20 years or so, made of brown metal, on a black pole. It has a kind of a perch for the birds to sit on which “shuts off” the access to bird seed if an animal larger than the average bird tries to get the food. It is designed so that squirrels and blackbirds will not be able to get to the food. Over the years, this bird feeder has been given new life through a black bungee cord which helps to keep it attached to the pole, and also through several stakes pounded into the ground and fastened to the pole, so that it continues to stand more or less upright.
Recently, I was sitting and watching the bird feeder out of the corner of my eye during a Sunday morning rain shower. The birds came steadily to feed. Sorry to say I am no accomplished birder, but I recognized red-winged blackbirds, cardinals, blue jays, robins, an agile blackbird or two, as well as countless little birds beyond my ability to identify. What was also remarkable were two chipmunks who found a way to climb up the pole, onto the perch, and who filled their cheeks with food and then scurried down and into the woods. The chipmunks took turns, it seemed, to grab the food and then sock it away. At times, the chipmunks shared the perch with a bird or two, and at times the chipmunks startled the birds, and at times a bird startled the chipmunks. But, on that Sunday morning, there was plenty of food to go around. I even saw a courageous and agile squirrel hold onto the top of the feeder and stretch down to eat bird food for several seconds before sliding off the feeder. Luckily for the squirrel, the birds are somewhat messy eaters, and there is plenty of birdseed scattered on the ground.
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