Come to the Table : A Passover Seder for Parish Use

The second edition of Come to the Table: A Passover Seder for Parish Use by Meredith Gould is now available. The book has been used for the past five years by Catholic parishes and has now been revised for a larger audience.

It includes:


* Historical and Biblical details about Passover with citations to scripture.
* The meaning of Passover symbols and their significance relative to Eucharist/Holy Communion.
* A traditional seder liturgy adapted for Christian use.
* Hebrew prayers in English.
* Easy-to-follow instructions for preparing the Passover meal and conducting a seder for small and large groups.

Meredith Gould writes about why she wrote the second edition over at dotMagis :

More important, my ongoing formation has sparked a deeper yearning to reach out to Christians beyond my Roman Catholic sisters and brothers, something I do in part by serving as abbess of @virtual_abbey. As a result, the second edition has been revised for easy use by any liturgical church whose Holy Week observances would be enhanced by a seder.

For Jews, Passover is a holiday commemorating liberation from bondage as well as God’s faithfulness. My hope is that the new edition of Come to the Table deepens users’ appreciation of Judaism and serves as a reminder that Jesus invited everyone to the table. Thanks be to God.

The book is available at CreateSpace (discount for five or more copies if ordered through there), Amazon (where it's bundled with two other titles by Meredith Gould The Catholic Home and Why Is There a Menorah on the Altar?) and will be available in a Kindle edition soon.

The History of My Shoes and the Evolution of Darwin's Theory, by Kenny Fries

I've been reading Kenny Fries' book The History of My Shoes and the Evolution of Darwin's Theory. It says much about the experience of living with a disability.

Because there is so much written about that experience and disability in general which is fraught with assumptions and misinformation, it's refreshing and reassuring to see writing like this. I find myself taking deep breaths and feeling centered as I read the prose, remembering how it is when I'm around other people with disabilities.

I miss that experience for many reasons. One of them is that there's an awkwardness about how some non-disabled people relate to disabled people. There isn't the usual banter between us, but these strained questions about how I do things. It often makes me feel as if I'm on a stage or in a 24-hour disability simulation.

"But if you're a quadriplegic, how do you type?" "How do you get dressed , or go to the bathroom or get into your bed?"

My answer these days is to suggest that they go to YouTube, where there's a plethora of videos done by quadriplegics to illustrate these very things.

Less common are the nondisabled people who ask how my job is going or if I've seen the latest movie. Those conversations happen more frequently with my disabled friends.

On page 110, of Kenny Fries' book, he writes about how nondisabled people generalize about his sexuality based on knowing another disabled person. Fries tells a colleague who assumes that "people are very interested in how disabled people have sex" that most people don't think of disabled people as being sexual.

The book also discusses how "our culture demands explanations about most disabilities"and how disability becomes a story "with a hero or victim" and therefore a problem of the individual, "not a category defined by the society." The author explains how this keeps the "dialectic of normalcy" intact.

As I was reading this, a lightbulb went off. This is all so true - and so limiting to ways of relating. Not only are constant questions about what my story is regarding my disability annoying, they are intrusive. Complete strangers ask "What happened to you?" upon sight. Acquaintances paint me as a hero or victim, and then don't understand when I show no interest in their take on my life.

It's naïve to think this way of relating doesn't box people in. When I was seen as a hero, which often happened when I was playing wheelchair sports, the minute I mentioned I worked during the week as a professional, the reaction changed. "Oh, so this is just a hobby?" the person would ask, disappointed. The hero story apparently required a full-time commitment to chasing a little ball around a tennis court. This is how predictable reactions to disabled people can be and are.

I really wish more people would pick up Kenny Fries' book. I've barely touched the surface of what it contains. There is so much more in there for both disabled and nondisabled readers. He somehow managed to set aside any self-conscious voice as he writes about growing up with a disability, making decisions about medical surgeries, and his relationship to the shoes that allow him to navigate the world.

This even includes a piece about how a replacement pair of shoes are useless to him. If only some durable medical equipment providers would read this! Those of us with disabilities know what works for us. Although it's fine to try something new and improved, having that thrust upon us with no choice can leave us immobilized.

Luckily, relationships are more diverse than that. Yet I can't help but wonder, how refreshing it would be if more people would pick up this book and begin to understand that effectively navigating the world is not just a dream for the disabled, anymore than it is for the nondisabled.

The Condition: A book review

I'm reading The Condition by Jennifer Haigh, which is available on Bookshare for members and Amazon. It'a a novel about family dynamics, but deals with them over a number of years, which is an interesting approach. As the novel begins, thirty five year old Paulette's and Frank's children are in their teens and preteens. They are just noticing that their daughter Gwen is not developing as quickly as her cousins are. The book then skips to when the children are in their 30's, after Paulette and Frank have divorced. Billy, the oldest, is hiding a secret; Gwen, who was diagnosed with Turner Syndrome*, struggles with her relationship with her mother and vice versa; and Scott, the youngest and labeled the most "difficult" child, sees his own issues in his son.

I haven't finished the book yet, but find the family and relationship dynamics that are described concerning Gwen and her parents more interesting than in most books I read that deal with the issue of raising a child with a disability or illness. For example, Frank is a scientist and he's always seeking out the latest treatments, then questioning what was done or not done. Paulette, on the other hand, is mostly concerned with appearance - how Gwen dresses to minimize her looking like a boy due to her small stature, for example. She also pushes her daughter into awkward social situations, like a nightmare blind date with a six foot plus basketball player, trying to normalize things (she thinks she knows what normal is). Although there is no question that, despite the dysfunction, family members love each other, the book realistically portrays how not allowing Gwen to live with Turner Syndrome and be herself causes everyone more pain in the end than is necessary. My understanding is that this gets somewhat resolved, but I'm not done reading the book yet.

What's most interesting is that the author shows that if these dynamics didn't swirl around "the condition", they would probably be about something else, considering the petty concerns of the characters at the opening of the novel. Very good read.

*Turner Syndrome results in short stature and loss of ovarian function. Please click above link for further information.

Abide With Me: A Novel

This 2006 novel was written by Elizabeth Strout, author of award winning novel Amy and Isabelle .

A young Maine minister, Tyler Caskey, loses his young wife to cancer, and struggles with his grief. As the book opens a year after his wife's death back in 1959, his congregation has begun to gossip about the young minister and even his young daughter, who has stopped speaking. The once popular minister who was admired for his sermons and sought out for advice is now criticized for not bouncing back - and for not being the same man. He struggles to deal with everyday tasks such as buying new shirts.

The author cleverly describes the inner workings of Caskey's mind to draw the reader into his deep state of grief, conveying a sense of how off balance he feels by the sudden loss of his wife and the ensuing changes in his life. In one scene, a character asks Caskey if dealing with death is easier when one is a minister, to which he simply replies "No".

Yet amidst the petty and small minded acts that beset Caskey, the author intertwines beacons of light- relationships that comfort him, teach him, and give him enough hope to deal with his feelings of confusion about God and fellow human beings.As Caskey struggles with whether he can still be a minister to this congregation, he discovers that it is only through his willingness to share his vulnerability - and, in a sense, rejoin and re-engage with his congregation - that others will begin to understand his grief and recognize his humanity.

[image description: The book cover is shown. A young girl with blonde hair is shown, looking down. The title Abide With Me is printed under her image and the author's name, Elizabeth Strout, is shown below that.]

Izzy, Willy- Nilly- A YA Book

Last night I read a Young Adult novel by Cynthia Voigt entitled Izzy ,Willy -Nilly, about a 15 year old cheerleader who, after taking a ride from an intoxicated high school senior, is in a car accident and has a leg amputated as a result. The book is written in the first person and at least half of it covers her time in the hospital, then follows her home as she goes from using a walker and wheelchair to crutches, goes back to school, deals with a trio of friends who get real busy and have no time for her (one of whom dates the senior who was driving) and makes new friends.

Unfortunately the book ends just as Izzy is about to get her prosthesis, which limits discussions about living with a disability, rather than about acquiring one and dealing with the immediate aftermath.

The first person narrative is effective as Izzy copes with medical treatment, the reactions of family and friends, and gets to know herself better. I also liked the fact that she is not portrayed as a superhero. She doesn't want to go back to school, for example, and face everyone. There is a genuine portrayal of a real friendship that Izzy finds with Rosamunde, who visits her in the hospital and in a direct and compassionate way challenges Izzy so she can move on in ways her parents seem unable to do.

In one scene, Rosamunde visits Izzy's hospital room, described as stark and empty, bringing library books, a batik and vase her mother made, fun food and a game to play. Izzy looks around and says to herself the room doesn't look like hers- it's messy, but she she likes it. Her mother, who is very concerned with appearances, initially dislikes Rosamunde, but begins to understand that as a friend she sees what Izzy needs in ways her family may not.

I like the message of this book, that the changes that come with acquiring a disability are positive and it's also okay to get support for what may be tough to handle. It deals with issues such as staring, motivation, DWI, personal empowerment, empathy, friendship, and the myth that people with disabilities are asexual. It's not a new book (published in 1995) but a worthwhile - and quick - read for those either dealing with or learning about acquiring a disability.

Catching shadows...

I'm reading The Shadow Catcher by Marianne Wiggins. She writes about a photographer who took pictures of the Indians - and, at the same time, about herself as a writer.

She writes about the first time Gertrude Stein flew in a plane and thought the landscape below reminded her of cubist art.

She writes about traffic in LA and the back streets therof.

She writes so beautifully that I cannot describe the language she uses in any way other than "not to be missed" if you're an avid reader and lover of the English language.

Yes I know you're busy. Yes I know you have other things to do. I do too which is why this isn't a real book review. I don't have time. I'd rather spend any spare time I have reading this book.

Trust me on this.

Read it. Or some of it. Whatever you can make time for.

[visual description: The cover page of the book is shown. A photo of a mountain with a field in the foreground is depicted with the title of the book The Shadow Catcher and the author's name below.]

Book review: If You Could See Me Now

This delightful book is currently in production for an upcoming movie, which I just discovered as I googled the title.

It's about a lonely boy whose difficult relationship with his aunt improves after they both begin to share an invisible friend. Family issues such as alcoholism and abandonment have led to skewed relations between the two, who have been thrust together after the boy's mother leaves him in his aunt's care. The appearance of Ivan, an invisible friend, slowly changes their ability to relate, breaking down barriers.

This whimsical book is actually narrated in part by Ivan, the invisible friend, who challenges the reader to question whether invisible friends are real - or not. Through the use of various characters' voices in the book, the author manages to draw the reader into a world that is simultaneously "unbelievable" - and very real.

I highly recommend this book for adults and older teens. This book is available on tape from the National Library for the Blind and Handicapped as RC 61534.

[visual description: The book cover is shown with the title If You Could See Me Now across the top and the author's name Cecelia Ahearn below . There is a drawing of a woman in a red dress (the body is shown from the waist down) walking through a field of flowers.]

Book review: The Wet Engine

Via Monastic Musings, a review of a book about a father with twin sons, one of whom was born with a heart condition.

Sr. Edith writes:

"The story of the book - it does not have a plot but it does have a story - centers on that little boy, Liam. Who were the doctors and what path of life brought them to deal with these difficult situations? Who invented these surgeries? Who figured out how the human heart worked? And - what does it all mean?

The overarching theme is wonder: that Liam is alive, that so many people have devoted so much of their lives in such surprising ways to uncovering the secrets of the working of the heart, the mystery of the heart itself. Philosopher Josef Pieper diagnoses the absence of wonder as one of the major ills of our society: we get so caught up in doing what works. We forget that it is a mystery that anything exists at all, and don't take the time to stand back in awe and wonder. Brian Doyle has done that, and shared the results with us."

This is not a book "just for" parents dealing with these issues (although I've put a 'parenting and disability' label below so any parents can find other resources), but a spiritual book for all of us, based on the review.

I've also added a link in my sidebar to the Congenital Heart Information Network, a wonderful site.

Click above to read the rest.