Cleaning as Meditation

Today I had two cleaning women in to assist in getting the apartment in shape for a gathering on Sunday.  They uber-cleaned the bathrooms, kitchen and living area;  I am still working on the family room and bedroom several hours after they have left. The women who came today are clearly professionals. They had special cleaning clothes, divided up the work in a very few minutes, and went about their work post haste and within three hours, the place...at least the place where they were working, was sparkling. I am actually trying NOT to use anything that might mess this cleanliness up!
I can't say that for the spaces I am tackling.  I am still "working " on them. Okay, I took a break to write this, but I promise...I will get back to it, at least by Saturday afternoon.
One thing about cleaning that is personally difficult is that I am allergic to dust  Just so you understand, dust that is just sitting around on something is a bit bothersome, but if I leave it alone, I can live with it. However when it comes to a point that the accumulated dust is very heavy; I need to get rid of it as it can really get me sneezing. Just so you know, moving the dust around causes more discomfort than just wisking it away with a cloth or a wipe that picks it up and is disposed.


Those who know me well...siblings especially, will attest to the fact that I never liked to clean. I had many personal devices to avoid it. Most of them did not work. As an adult, I found that you could actually pay someone to do it for you. This knowledge made me happy.


One of my late husband's cousins was adamant about not hiring cleaning folks to assist her with cleaning her home.  She felt guilty because the Grandmother she loved so dearly had spent her early time in the States as a domestic. My paternal Grandmother, Teresa "Tessie" Cummiskey Redden, also started her time in this country as a maid in a house in Manhattan which is certainly nothing to be ashamed of...that is one way to start the ascent up the American ladder of mobility. On a recent trip to Ireland, a second cousin from Longford pointed out that Tess's grandkids did very well in America: entrepreneurs, educators, accountants, contractors, union officials and administrators...not too shabby for the decendents of a domestic servant.  It should be duly noted that the women who were at my home today were also immigrants from the Caribbean and Eastern Europe working to make things better for their children as well.


So one thing that I do "get" about cleaning and arranging stuff is that it can be extremely meditative.
I think it is the repetitiveness of the work: removing the books, dusting the shelf, wiping the books, returning the books; dusting the table, spraying the table, wiping the table, drying the table; sweeping the floor, "swiffing" the floor, drying the floor; moving the chairs, vacuuming the rugs, putting the chairs back; during this time I have found myself repeating the Trisagion: "Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us." I find it immensely calming and centering; two things meditation should do.   I have found that allowing myself to meditate while I clean makes the chore more bearable, almost enjoyable. And meditation is such an important part of my personal spiritual discipline, that allowing myself to engage in it while engaged in domestic work is a real blessing. And we can pray us and all those who clean:


Lord, may our feet that walk here chase as hard after you as they chase after one another. May we not follow what the crowd is doing, but where you are leading. May we go where you send us with joy and courage. May our hands that wash here be dirty from doing your work. May we always reach out to help those in need. May we be lifted high in worship each and every day.

"Spotlight" on the process...

This evening I took the bus, ferry and subway to a movie theater in Manhattan at Union Square so I could see "Spotlight", the movie about how the Boston Globe broke the story of clerical sexual abuse in the Archdiocese of Boston, and how it was systemically covered up by people in power who should have been looking out for the victims and not the perpetrators. I found it fascinating watching the meticulous process the reporters went through in gathering information, verifying sources and seeking out the kernel of truth that was obscured under layers and layers of  bureaucracy and ecclesial blocking. The leads were wonderful; I especially loved Stanley Tucci's performance as the attorney operating outside the "good old boys" network, branded as a kook who doggedly speaks for the under-represented.

But this is a story that is all too familiar to those of us who grew up in the mid  century Roman Catholic neighborhoods of urban America. This is not to say that other adults who worked in close proximity to children are exempt from accusations of being sexual predators in our midst, for there have been educators and others who are guilty of the same crimes. Nor is it only Roman Catholic clergy who are the sole perpetrators; these predators exist across denominational lines.  However, there appears to be systemic factors in the selection and training of Roman Catholic priests which  make it easier for those who are potential abusers to slip into the ranks.

I have felt for some time that segregating young men in a forced same sex community where they are unable to develop healthy interaction with members of the opposite sex does, in a real sense, force an arrested sexual identity upon them.  In denying them social contact with women, even women in their own families: mothers, sisters, aunts, cousins; these men live their lives at a great disadvantage, unable to successfully tap into the gifts, talents and insights wise women can give them.

But the biggest tragedy of this situation is that devastation of lives could be avoided; once an incident is uncovered, the guilty adult should be dealt with swiftly and professionally. The child's recovery should be tantamount. Unfortunately, this was not always the case.


In my home parish, an outer borough of New York City, such a case occurred.
An assistant pastor, who had overseen a successful music program and was moderator of the parish's Scouthing program, was suddenly transferred to another state.  Many in the parish assumed he would be the next pastor, or at least get one of his own with the title of "Monsignor" not far behind. The parish grapevine indicated he left voluntarily to be closer to his aging mother, but it was not really true.  He was moved because he was accused of having a liason with a teenaged boy.  My mother was distressed.  How could this be she thought?  Afterall he had officiated at three of her children's weddings....including mine. However, it turned out to be very real.  He went on to continue this behavior in several other parishes in his new state, eventually costing that diocese around $2.5 million in civil suit settlements. He did finally leave the priesthood and retired to yet another state.


What can be learned from all of this, from the pain and suffering it caused, from the abandonment and loss of trust many have felt over this issue?  At the very least, a closer look must be taken in how discernment and formation of clergy is done. Psychological screening and personal evaluations need to be improved for the protection of the innocent.




And on a personal note, I would prefer not to have to travel an hour into Manhattan to find a theater showing this powerful film.