It is There for Everyone

Before I revived this blog, I was writing at Eucatastrophe.    I like that name, and especially during Lent I want to keep thinking about what it means, but this blog seems more eclectic in nature and that, it seems, is what works for me nowadays.  Perhaps always.

My son was working at Amazon, and during the holiday season we came down with illness after illness.   Apparently there are a whole array of Oklahoma bugs to which we have little to no immunity.   Finally, early in February, we all got the flu, and his seasonal work at the fulfillment center ended with a sort of whimper, or cough anyway.   We were all quite ill for almost 2 weeks, and I'm still fatigued.  So I haven't written on here basically since Candlemas, and now we are past Ash Wednesday.

The pastor at the church we went to for the evening mass talked about turning to God "even now", and that now is the acceptable time -- basically pointing out what the liturgy focuses on this time of year, that the one needful thing, now and always till your last breath -- is to approach God.    There are lots of ways to turn away from Him.   But approaching is simple, and necessary.   

I just finished reading a book, a memoir called Waiting to be Heard by Amanda Knox.    It was quite a dramatic story -- one I had somehow missed until I saw a trailer for a documentary on her case.     One point of interest was Knox's close friendship with a Catholic priest during her 4 years in prison.    It was a sharp contrast to the weird condemnations and harassments of the official community in Italy.   

Though she is still an atheist, Knox said she found enduring wisdom in the Gospel through her conversations with the priest.

“[Fr. Scarabattoli] taught me to value much of the wisdom in the teachings of Jesus,” she wrote in her book. “Turning the other cheek, the golden rule, a radical refusal of judgment, an acceptance of all people — high and low, sinner and saints. No one deserves God’s grace, and yet, it is there for everyone.”

I don't know much about Don Saulo beyond what was in Amanda's book,  but his influence on her horrifying situation was considerable and lasting.   According to what she has said, among other things, he encouraged her to forgive the prosecutor whose strange and rather obsessive view of her case led to so much harm for her.    They apparently ended up meeting and having a conversation, and are still in regular contact.