麻豆约拍

Good morning. My mother once said to me:
Have I ever told you the story of how the Virgin Mary appeared to me?
I hadn鈥檛 been listening very closely. Until that point.
My mother said that she had been lying down in the afternoon, at a time of grief in her life.
She woke up because the door to her room opened and in walked a very ordinary looking woman. My mother looked at the woman and the woman looked at my mother. My mother knew she was looking at Mary, the mother of Jesus, dressed like any everyday Irishwoman.
Mary sat down on the bed next to my mother and said 鈥淵ou never liked me very much did you?鈥� My mother said that no, she hadn鈥檛.
Mary smiled and said 鈥淭hat鈥檚 okay鈥�.
When she told me this, her eyes glistened with the beauty of the moment, even though that moment had been years before.
What is truth?
When I heard this story, I could ask 鈥淒id that really happen?鈥�
Or, 鈥淲as it just a dream?鈥�
Something true happened in that small visitation, whether the visitation was in a dream or some other kind of reality.
So much of our our faith lives, our political lives, our media lives are guided by a pursuit of the truth, as if truth can be arrived at.
Perhaps truth is a smiling stranger who knows us more than we know us.
God of truth,
We sometimes seek truth in a formula
or words or certainties.
Your truth is often found in other ways.
Help us seek truth in the ordinary everyday moments
all around us
that draw us to ourselves and to each other.
Amen.