Friday Five: Companions on the Way

I'm pleased to say this week's Friday Five is based on a suggestion I made via e-mail last week. I'm also pleased by how Songbird expanded on the idea; to whit:

Dante had Virgil as a guide. Before he had younger siblings, my oldest child had an imaginary friend named Patrick. Betsy had Tacy. Laura Ingalls depended on her brindle bulldog, Jack. All of them were companions on the way.

As we take the beginning steps of our journey through Lent, who would we take as a companion? Name five people, real or imaginary, you might like to have with you as guide or guardian or simply good friend.

1. Kathleen, my maternal grandmother. One family tale suggests that she was more loving to her grandchildren (Brother Dave and I) than she was to her own daughter. My mother rarely spoke about Kathleen, but she had more positive memories of her father.
      When I think of the divine feminine, I think of Kathleen. When I think of the "cloud of witnesses" who surround me (whether in spirit or reality I know not), I think of Kathleen. When I think of those saints known to God alone, I think of Kathleen.
      She is a companion through many days in my life, as an icon of agape – pure, non-judgemental love. She is a companion who supports and praises. She is a companion who inspired and nourished my love of music.


2. Francis of Assisi. Like Jesus, he calls me to an uncomfortable level of sacrifice. His life and discipline may seem harsh or frightening (viz., the stigmata); his life may seem a judgement. If it is a judgement, it is spoken in love.


3. Gil, a friend at church. He smiles and gives me a big hug each time I see him. This past Wednesday, his wife mentioned how much he loves me. I have no idea why. I do feel a great deal of affection for him as well. Rather than try to suss out why he likes me so much, I have chosen to bask in it, and be fed by the affection. It, too, is an icon of God's love for us. We can't earn it; God gifts us with love "just because".


4. Dr. Omed, who I once called Parsival. His wife calls him an evangelical atheist, a title he somewhat begrudgingly accepts. He is what I call a "recovering Southern Baptist", which is evidenced by his rejection of God or any notion of a supreme being (regardless of what name one choses for same).
      Dr. Omed has known me since high school. He can call me on my foibles better than anyone. He challenges my unexamined assumptions. His own faith, that cannot be named or categorized, is also an icon of grace.


5. My constant companion, the fierce wild beast, Dame Julian. St. Anthony, as well as other Desert Fathers, is often pictured with a cat. The original Dame Julian also had a cat as a companion. I have a theory why this is so.
      There is no creature like a cat to keep a human humble. And their purr is an icon of the "constant prayer" St. Paul calls us to observe.