The gift we already have...

The last of the "O" antiphons is, O come Emmanuel!

This novena asks every single day for the messiah to come. That is because the "O" antiphons are all about desire and longing. And yet, the last O antiphon actually tells us that God is already here, as that is the meaning of Emmanuel!

Revelation reaffirms that thought. Rev. 21:3 says I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Behold, God's dwelling is with the human race. God will dwell with them and they will be God's people and God will always be with them as their God.

Perhaps our Christmas gift is light, so that we understand that we have something precious already. Maybe our cry should be, help us see that gift. Help us realize our bounty.

For is it not true that when we ask for something we tend to forget what we already have?

So much of our Christmas in the United States revolves around gift giving. Not that that is bad. It just sets us in the mind that we need more, that we should be getting.

It would be wonderful if we could understand that Christmas is all about receiving, that the real and lasting gift is the gift of grace, of peace, of God already within.

Let us come before the Infant Jesus this year and pray, not that he comes, but that we open and realize that he is already here, in our hearts!

Giving a true gift

The following is a true story shared with me:

"I was frustrated. I had spent the day shopping for friends who were rich and famous and had it all. I didn't know what to get them. I went from store to store hoping that something would jump out at me, but nothing did. I went home feeling I had wasted a whole day.

The next day, I stopped by the local store to buy some supplies for myself for Christmas. When I got to the checkout counter, I waited patiently as a young mother in front of me emptied her very full cart. Most of it was groceries, but she had gotten a couple of toys as well. When it came time for her to pay, she handed the cashier a card. "This isn't enough," the cashier informed her. The young woman pulled out another card and swiped it. I wasn't sure what was happening, but I noticed she kept swiping the same card. "Debit?" asked the cashier. "Yes," she said and swiped it again.

I looked away, but soon noticed she was rummaging through her purse. I heard her say, "My paycheck must not have come through yet," and saw her searching for money. Her hands were visibly shaking. I listened now, as the woman found a couple twenties and handed them over. It was not enough to pay the balance. "Twenty-one forty eight," the cashier said. The mother put her purse down and looked at her cart. Then she began pulling toys out of her cart and putting them on the conveyer belt.

Realizing what was up, I whipped out my wallet and pulled out twenty-two dollars. I handed it to the cashier, who looked at me with surprise. As I nodded towards the mother, she took my money. "Honey," she said to the mother, "she's got the rest and she's paying for you." The mother stopped and slowly turned. She looked at me with surprise and gratitude. "You don't have to do this," she said quietly.  "I know," I replied. "I'm doing it because I want to. Merry Christmas." She turned away to put the toys back in her cart.

The cashier punched a button and the drawer opened. As she handed me my change, I noticed that the young mother was wiping tears from her cheeks. The cashier noticed too, and tears formed in her eyes. "You don't often see this," she said to the shopper behind me. "I've been a recipient of kindness," I replied. "Now it's my chance to pass it on."  The mother turned and thanked me again. Then she pushed her cart forward and disappeared.

When I left, I felt that I was the one who had been given the gift. I had spent a whole day shopping for people who needed nothing. God let me find the person who really needed a gift. When I gave that gift to the mother who ran out of money, I felt that it was rather I who was gifted."

God gives us opportunities to give true gifts. We need just be open and ready.

Come to those who sit in darkness

I love the O Antiphon for today, which calls upon the Savior to come and enlighten "those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death."

It focuses on those "who sit in darkness". I think that is because darkness is part and parcel of life. All of us share this journey. Sitting in darkness perhaps signifies the soul who can wait in faith without having to have answers, the soul patient and content to seek without knowing it now. Sitting in darkness may be the soul in meditation, one that allows the light to come slowly, as dawn that breaks slowly to begin a new day.

Dawn breaks the darkness of night. Jesus breaks the darkness of soul.

Sitting in darkness may be recognizing our state, and looking forward to the light of dawn.

O Dayspring, brightness of eternal Light and Sun of Justice; come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. (Traditional "O" Antiphon)

He did not presume to know

Have you ever met someone whose very demeanor spoke of self-importance?  Someone who acted like a "know it all"? Someone who repelled you because that person talked but did not seem to care about anyone else?


I think that is the contradiction of Jesus. He did not want to be seen as an important figure in the gospels, but as a common man with uncommon love. He came as a child, and was born in a stable so that no one might think him above the rest of human kind. He did not presume to know what it was like to be us, to be poor, or cold, or hungry, or betrayed or suffering or any other human emotion. He came to be us. In effect, he came to be humble.

I think an important part of life is not to presume to know. Even if I have suffered some injury or endured some grief, I do not know what it is like to be someone else going through a hard time. I think one of the messages Jesus wants to give us is to be one with another experience by being silent. Do not presume to know. Let that person share and explain and tell you.

And so I would say, part of the Christmas message is not just peace and joy and hope. I think part of the Christmas message is silence. And I believe the greatest gift I can give to another is to tell myself, I don't  know. For the right kind of silence says, I want to listen, I want to hear you, I want to learn.

An extraordinary gift

I was newly moved to a bigger monastery. I felt lost, lonely, and isolated. I said a little prayer, one that I did not really expect to be answered. I asked if I could just see a kitty, just hear one meow. A couple days later, the workman came to see me and said, "Look what I found!" and pulled a scrawny little kitten about 4 weeks old out of his coat pocket. "We found it in the leaves," he said. I could not believe my eyes. I was even more shocked when I was allowed to keep the little guy. I named him Buttons.

When it became clear that I needed to leave the monastery and the monastic way of life, I asked if I could keep Buttons. The answer was an overwhelming yes. I moved to live with my brother in Texas. Buttons was with me. When I moved back to Massachusetts, Buttons came too. He moved with me every time I found it necessary to relocate. I could not imagine life without him. He was always there when I came home, greeting me at the front door. I used to wonder how he knew when I had arrived. Then I just got used to having him there at the door when I unlocked it. He was better than a dog!

Buttons hated riding in the car, but I took him with me whenever I went away for several months. He would adjust to the temporary home, always coming out at night to sleep on my feet. I got so use to him being there, it became part of going to sleep at night.

And Buttons was a smart cat. I tried endlessly to outsmart him, with very little success. He won 99% of the time. I accepted this, as this is what it means to be an owner of a cat. You have to accept their superiority!

On Monday Dec. 10, Buttons had come to the end of his road. I had to let him go...

When I got up this morning,  I looked for Buttons, but he was not there. And then I remembered. I will continue to expect him to greet me at the door after a long day away...to come out to see what I'm doing when I am working in the living room, to keep my feet warm when I got to bed. I will continue to deal with this loss, which is very deep for me.  And I will continue to thank God for answering my prayer...

For it was when I was lost and lonely that God gave me the gift of a forlorn ferral kitten. We were rigth for each other. And for 14 years, we made the greatest pair.

Buttons, I will miss you always....

A gift fit for everyone

Ever take stock of what guides your judgment of others? Is it actions? Or can I look past actions and remember that each person carries a heart....a heart that is often wounded.

I wonder if that is why Isaiah calls the Messiah the wounded healer, one who not only suffered, but kept his wounds visible for the disciples to see even after his resurrection. And Isaiah says, by his wounds we are healed (53:5). Healed from what? Perhaps we are healed from our judgments and our near sighted view of the human condition. Perhaps we are healed from looking at others in superficial ways instead of from the depth of one's own woundedness and compassion.

If I remember my own struggle, I will look upon someone else from that place, I will bring a lot more compassion into our world. Many people suffer silent, hidden wounds. They carry these wounds as burdens upon their heart. And when that burden becomes too heavy, they may lash out or cut me off. If I can look past that conduct to see a wounded heart, I could offer empathy and compassion. Perhaps I can not lift that person's burden. But at least I can refrain from adding to it.

In this Advent Season, we like to think of the joyful aspects of our faith. But let us never forget, we are all wounded, all vulnerable, all in need of compassion. The very reason the Savior came as an Infant and not as a full grown King was to draw out that compassion from our hearts. An Infant is very decidedly vulnerable.

Let that be the gift we offer this Christmas Season. Let our preparation be mindful of our own woundedness, and let that memory overflow into compassionate acts that bring some of that peace to others.

Finding solace in the desert

The first Sunday of Advent. Advent is a time for yearning. It is also a time for cleansing. We are told that Isaiah prophesied that a voice would cry out in the wilderness asking us to make straight the path to our God (Is. 40:9). I have always thought of Advent as a desert time, a time of personal preparation: clean out the unkind thoughts and grudges, make ready the heart to welcome Divinity in with greater fullness.

But there is another type of desert I am called to. That is to walk with another. For we each have a desert sometime in our life, times when our efforts seem to produce little fruit, when life seems dry and barren, and success and happiness are little more than a mirage. Perhaps the Baptist's call to go into the desert is a cry for me to care for a fellow sojourner whose life has become difficult.

I can fill in the valleys and make every mountain and hill low when I help to balance that person's hope. I can help diminish some of that fear and build up some of that confidence. In short, I can give encouragement and understanding. If I do this, the sojourn in the desert may be shortened, and that person will come out a whole person, not one broken and defeated.

Who of us would not profit by a bit of understanding? Yes, I may act out my fears and anxiety. But if only one person sits by me, holds my hand and hears my story, I find heart and courage. In that courage I may even find healing and wholeness.

Isn't that what the Christmas story is all about? Is it not a story of hope in the midst of a very unfair world? So let me look for that sojourner in the desert, the one who feels weighed down right now and can use a caring heart. Let me reach out not with answers, but with a sympathetic ear that listens to their story. Who knows. That may be the one thing that individual needs at this time.

A Thanksgiving Day Prayer

For parents who, despite faults and failings, brought me into this world, nurtured me, and taught me the value of hard work, I thank you O God.

For the love of brothers and sisters, who are always there for me, with a love that feeds my soul, I say thanks.

For the blessing of true friends, who support, encourage, and mirror my own spirit, I give thanks.

For the gifts that make me unique, and for the opportunity to exercise these gifts, I am grateful.

For a country that allows me to speak my mind, to pursue my dreams, and to choose my career, I say thank you.

For spiritual blessings that make me appreciate my earthly possessions without depending on them, I give thanks.

For the gifts of mind and soul, that help me see my blessings, share my blessings, and proclaim God's goodness, I offer praise.

For you O God are Divine, above every created thing, yet You are content to live within each soul. You are the reason I give thanks, for you are the source of all blessings. To you be praise, honor, and glory. Forever.

(And thanks for the turkey.)

Amen

I was blind, but did not know it

Ever feel you are on a journey but are not sure where you are going?

Then you feel like Isaiah. We read in 42:16: I will bring forth the blind by a road unknown to them and make  them walk in paths they did not know; I will light the shadows before them."

I know that once I thought I could see. And now I realize, I've been blind. When I thought I could see, I made my plans, prepared my road map, set forth on my journey. But it did not bring me to the destination I expected.

It was not until I realized I was blind that I let myself be guided more by the spirit of God. I accepted that I didn't know, and so I surrendered more, and planned less. I went inside to reflect instead of focusing on what I should do.

Being blind turns the world upside down. For we need to plan and work toward and accomplish. But sometimes, we need to sit with a situation and ponder.

As we look forward to Thanksgiving and all that it means to us an Americans, let us take time to stop and reflect. Let us be aware of our blindness, as an individual and as a nation. Let this knowledge be our Thanksgiving grace.

For you cannot receive that which you think you don't need. And if you and I realize our blindness, then we shall ask for light. And God will make the light shine on the shadows before us. And we shall walk on new paths we do not know.

When God breaks the rules

I'd like to offer just a short thought today.

Richard Rohr writes in The Naked Now:

"Good theology always protects God's total freedom, and does not demand that God follow our rules. Jesus does this explicitly in John's Gospel several times: 'The spirit blows where it wills. You can hear and see it by its effects, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes" (3:8).

What does this mean? It means that the rules we make are not the rules that God follows. In fact, every time God forgives or shows mercy, God breaks the rules of justice and accountability. God steps outside our concepts of what should be.

This is what we call grace. In our world, we want a tit-for-tat universe. God does not follow this concept. The spirit of God flows where it wills, including letting the sun shine on the wicked as well as the righteous (though I doubt very much any of us are righteous), lets the rain come down on the just and the unjust. In fact, God's generosity is scandalously because it can be found even in the failure of sin. Simply put, there is no place left where God cannot be found!

So if God breaks the rules, what does that tell me? That the spirit of God flows where it wills. And who am I to judge that grace?

When prayer is not enough

One of the most interesting words in scripture are the words of Jesus disciples, "Lord, teach us how to pray" (Lk 11:1). Why were the disciples asking that? They had the whole Jewish cycle of prayer, they had the law, they had the customs of their day; they had the Sabbath day prayer, the Feasts, the Vigils. And yet, when they saw Jesus pray, it was different, he was different, and they wanted to know why.

I think that is a good question to ask. Because no matter how many books there are on prayer, no matter how well we manage to pray, there will be times when we will realize, that is not enough. Isn't that what prompted the disciples? With all their formulas and feasts, did they not recognize that Jesus offered something deeper?

I think Jesus waits for us to ask that question. I think it comes when our disillusionment has been dealt with and we are becoming individuals with a different understanding. I think no individual can teach us true prayer. I think we learn it only when the question comes straight from the depths of our hearts, and we realize we need  to understand beyond the prayer we once knew.

I hope you ask that question today. I hope I do as well.

A word of encouragement

This is sent to you. You know who you are. These words are for you because you need to hear them. I believe they are from the Spirit of God within the heart:

Hi there. I love you. You are so brave and courageous, taking life by the horns and going with the flow. Yes, I know it is hard. So much unknown. So much poverty and not having. You have gone forward without having to be supported. You have not settling for any relationship that might lead to slavery. You have remained true to your commitment to truth by not compromising with yourself. Not an easy job.

And so, I want to encourage you to continue moving forward. You do not know what lies ahead. But you do not fear it either. You go forward with a prayer and with hope. You trust God to take care. And when God seems far, you continue on in the dark, knowing God will act in time. Maybe not in your time, but in God's time.

So, know I believe in you, with your querkyness and your hesitation. You don't want to be where you are right now. You'd like to be doing what you love. But in time, you will. You just have to keep up the good work, to carry on, to believe when the going gets tough. Not that that will change things. But things will change, because you are something else. You know it more than anyone else. You have greatness in you, and it will come forth. Yes it will!

To all of you who find this rings true, I support and encourage you!

Risk making a mistake

The parable of the talents (Mt 25:14-30), when each person is giving a sum of money, and the lord of the house goes off on a journey. When the lord returns, he asks each of the persons with money to return it. The first two have invested, and so return it with interest. The third has buried it to keep it safe, and returns only that.

I've often wondered what hidden meaning I should get from this parable. I've heard many sermons that focus on the investing part, and that God expects us to make good use of our gifts, and will only give us more if we have prospered. A God who is watching and counting. But I was delighted when I heard a sermon that explained the parable in a way that spoke to my heart.

"God is less concerned about our mistakes than we are," the priest said. He explained the parable as a story about a willingness to take risks. Anyone who invests knows exactly what he is talking about.

The first two people spoken of in Matthew's parable were willing to risk. The story isn't that their investment produced more, but that they took a chance. They dared to try. The third person in the story would not. He was afraid of making a mistake.

As I think about it, I find that I have, in my past, feared too much to make mistakes. I saw God as one who keeps score, who wants us to choose wisely and rightly, one easily disappointed. Yes, my God was one who watched and counted.

But that is not the real God; that is only my own inner fear of God. As I've taken chances, made mistakes, gone forward, I've come to a better understanding. Mistakes do not keep me from going forward in my spiritual life; fear to make them does.

I often find myself thinking of the words of Paul in Cor. 2:2, that it has not even entered into our hearts what God has prepared for those who love him. I think of the qualities that make a good friend. A friend is not one who watches and counts my mistakes. A good friend believes in me more than I believe in myself. A person I want to be with. I remind myself, God is that and more.

That is my image of God. And that is the why mistakes mean little to the one who is Divine. Effort, intention, and attempts, these are the things that matter.

Sitting or crying out

Do you think in terms of Sirach 34:16, The Lord is a shelter from the heat, a shade from the noonday sun, a guard against stumbling, a help against falling? I have always wondered about individuals for whom life goes forward without a hitch. People who can quote this verse because for them, the Lord has always sheltered them from harm, guarded them from stumbling, and kept them from falling.

I think most of us identify better with the blind man in Luke 18:35-43, who sat along side of the road not even able to watch life pass him by.  When he heard a commotion one sunny afternoon, he asked what was going on and was told Jesus was there. Hearing this, he sprang into action, calling out, "Son of David, have pity on me!" Those around him tried to shut him up. I suppose they were the ones for whom life had been straightforward, who had never needed to cry out, for whom the Lord was a shelter, a shade, a guard and help. But he would not keep quiet. And his reward was healing.

Come to think of it, I am not sure if there really are people for whom life is easy. I wonder if instead, there are those who cry out when they feel the need for help, and those who prefer to sit quietly by, not willing to appear vulnerable. For crying out does imply being needy, and that can be hard to admit. Yet, everything we read in scripture, both old and new, says that God listens when we cry out: my plans for you are peace and not disaster; when you call to me, I will listen to you (Jer. 29:14). Perhaps our destiny in life is not revealed until we cry out. Perhaps healing comes only with a willingness to be vulnerable.

The power to know deep down

Wisdom. The power to know deep down what is most important. We read from the Book of Wisdom: In Wisdom is a spirit intelligent, holy, unique, manifold, subtle, agile, clear, unstained, certain...loving the good, keen, unhampered, beneficent, kindly, firm, secure, tranquil, all-powerful, all-seeing...For Wisdom...is an aura of the might of God and a pure effusion of the glory of the Almighty, therefore nothing that is sullied enters into her. For she is the refulgence of eternal light, the spotless mirror of the power of God, the image of his goodness.

We do not hear much about wisdom. Instead, other qualities are sought, like studiousness, success, and leadership. And what exactly is wisdom anyway? According the the reading above, it is the refulgence of eternal light, the spotless mirror of the power of God, the image of his goodness.

For wisdom to benefit anyone, it must first benefit me. How easy it is to bring God to others, to mirror the image of goodness in ways others can identify with, and yet feel empty inside myself. How strange that I can be a vessel of God to another, while still searching for that Divine Being. How unique that I can give someone an answer in my simple speech, while I do not know answers for myself.

This is simply how God works. Wisdom begins and grows through a life lived above the superficial cares of life. I can be wise for others. The real challenge is, can I be wise for myself?

When I have lost faith

I think many of us go through a rough period when we question what we believe in and wonder what it all means and do we even still believe. It is a time when we lose faith.

But what is losing faith? I think for many, it does not mean an abandonment of all that I believe in. It is losing what once had meaning for me, and finding a different way of making meaning. It means crossing the scriptural desert by questioning and finding out some of the things I thought were necessary, were solid, were rock bottom, simply are not.

I like to think of the disciples. They followed Jesus because they full expected him to return Israel to its former glory. This is how they understood the Messiah. And they found out, as Jesus died on the cross, that they were wrong.

Imagine that loss of faith! And yet, it was necessary for them to lose it because they needed to understand differently.

So do we. We need to be challenged in our understanding, like the disciples of Jesus, and a little confused at times. It helps us clarify right thinking from fantasy, and solid ground from imagination.

So do not be afraid of losing faith. Despite the fear of that night, remember psalm 23: I will not fear the dark valley, for you are there with me at my side. With your rod and your staff, that give me courage.

A prayer on Election Day

Lord:

Let me vote my convictions, not my pride.

Let my vote my values, and not feel pressured to vote appearance.

Let me take this right seriously, and vote with responsibility.

I pray for your guidance, for I believe that you do guide us in choices, and we can make a difference.

Let me not follow pressure from family or friends, but follow my  heart.

And let me accept the winner as the one I should respect even if I do not agree.

Amen

The way I follow should be my own

I have all too often heard that following Jesus is hard. We read in scripture that the way is narrow, few are those who find it (Mt 7:14).  Many are called, few are chosen (Mt 24:14). Such lines make it seem that living for God has to be difficult, next to impossible, and lonely. And yet, nothing could be farther from the truth.

Catherine of Siena once wrote that “the way to heaven is broad,” and that “all the way to heaven is heaven.” I’ve always been impressed with the contradiction of St. Catherine’s statement and St Matthew’s gospel passages.

So how do we interpret this narrow way promoted by Matthew? I’ve come to believe that the narrow way spoken of in the gospel points to the way destined for each individual. I see it saying that the path destined for me is not one traveled by anyone else, and I am meant to blaze it myself. Following that way is difficult, because it requires learning discernment and overcoming my fear of making a mistake. It means taking chances, having courage to be responsible for my choices, having the ability to say I’m wrong, turn around, and try again.

To follow the “narrow way” is to follow that path set out for me alone, the one God intended that my feet, and only my feet trod, the one that leads to my destiny. It requires blazing my way through areas no one else has gone before. It requires letting God be my beacon, over everyone else.

That doesn’t mean I should discount another’s inspiration and admirable conduct. Nor does it mean I must make a religion that suits my own fancies and discount all others. It simply means that however much I’m influenced by someone else and their journey, my journey requires a particular faithfulness to God’s plan for me. And few there are those who have the courage to believe and follow such an individualized path.

The way is narrow and few are those who follow it. Because we have a herd instinct, and would rather find a way well trodden and wide. But if we believe in destiny, than we must also believe that no two individuals have the same exact call. As it says in Isaiah 43:1: For I have called you by name, you are mine. In God's eyes, each on of us has a name, and each one has her own path to follow.

We are holy

In Ezekiel 47: 8-9, we read about the trickle of water that flowed out of the temple of God and which became a veritable river, giving life to every sort of living creature that can multiply. The reading goes on to say:

Along both banks of the river, fruit trees of every kind shall grow; their leaves shall not fade, nor their fruit fail. Every month they shall bear fresh fruit for they shall be watered by the flow from the sanctuary. Their fruit shall serve for food, and their leaves for medicine (12).

Perhaps this reading doesn't mean much to us. But when we tie this reading to Paul's letter to the Corinthians 3:16, we can find the significance.  That letter says Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?

You and I are that temple. And the river that flows from that temple is the influence that comes from our own good lives, from our earnest efforts, from our spiritual well being.  We are the ones who can give life and even healing.

Psalm 42 says, My soul is thirsting for the living God. That thirst, our prayers, the effort we make to be conscious of the presence of Divinity within us, it does not remain sterile. It contains power, and that power overflows to others. It is an awesome concept, a wondrous dignity, and an immense responsibility.

Let us always remember the words attributed to Paul that says, For the temple of God, which you are, is holy (Cor 3:17).

Yes. You and I. We are holy.

The need of a good friend

I tend to look for people who mirror my values, and who accept me as I am. And many times I hope that it will stay that way. But if I am sincere about my progress, my journey, or my mission in life, than I should expect something different. I should expect that things will not stay that way, but will change. And a good friend will help me in that.

Funny how I accept that in nature, change is a sign of growth. No one complains when the seed they planted becomes a flower, or when the garden bears fruit, or the tree becomes ripe with apples or pears or cherries or oranges. It is nature's way of continuing life. It is expected and even hoped for..

Our spiritual life needs the same, and we find it in a good friend or companion. I should expect a true friend, one who is healthy for me, to be the one whose honesty and trust enable me to accept the changes that I must make in life. A good friend will have the courage to criticize me as well, as a way to urge me forward. I will accept constructive criticism because I, too, will express honest opinions. Such a relationship helps nurture the strongest roots.

When I enter into a friendship, I should nurture a healthy exchange of ideas. I should also welcome the way it can change me.

A prayer for Light

We begin each class with a prayer. Last evening, the classmate who lead the prayer reminded us that now is a time when it gets darker. Now is the time when the media concentrates on dark themes, dark movies, dark news. She decided to share a payer for light, and old prayer well known and cherished.

I've decided to share it too. It is the prayer to the Holy Spirit.

Come Holy Spirit, fill the heart of your faithful, and kindle in our hearts the fire of Divine Love.

Send forth your spirit and we shall be created.
And you will renew the face of the earth.

O God, Who by the light of the Holy Spirit, instructed the hearts of your faithful, grant that same Holy Spirit to us, so that we may be truly wise, and enjoy the consolation of your presence.

Amen

Let us share this prayer, so that light may overcome the darkness.

Do I want to see?

By Sr. Mary Grace Thul, OP

That I may see. It was a simple request, and Mark's gospel chapter ten tells us it was the only request made by Bartimaeus.

It makes me look at my requests. I have prayed to "see", but am I ready for what may be revealed?

Imagine what Bartimaeus saw...a whole  new world. And his new sight did not just bring him joy, it prompted him to give back. For the gospel tells us that when he gained his sight, he then followed Jesus. He accepted what he saw.

That could not be said about Jesus dicsiples who had physical sight. They were always tyring to get Jesus to match their concept of what the messiah should be: restore Jerusalem to its pristine power and glory; sit them one on his right and one on his left; let them have power over demons; call down God's wrath on those who did not accept their message.

Even at the last supper, in John 14: 5 when Jesus invited them to follow him, they said, "We do not know where you are going, how can we know the way?" And Jesus responded, "Have I been with you for so long a time and you still do not know me?" (Jn 14: 9)

I wonder which disciple I am like: Bartimaeus, willing to see for real and follow, or the disciples, following but not seeing, because I want Jesus to match what I think he should be like.

Disappointed in God

It was just one line in a sermon, but it hit hard. "One way to never be disappointed in life is to expect little."

How many of us have been disappointed in God? How many of us have hoped for big things, only to have God fail to deliver? Sound familiar?

I wonder how many of us learn to keep our expectations of God and grace and hope low so we won't be disappointed again. I wonder how many of us have grown to expect little of God, because we have not seen God step into our lives in big ways.

I'll say it: God doesn't treat me the way I think God should. God doesn't treat me the way I would treat me if I were God.

But, I have learned not to let my disappointments keep my hopes and expectations low. I read in scripture: For who among us knows what pertains to a person except the spirit of the person that is within? Similarly, no one knows what pertains to God except the Spirit of God. We have not received the spirit of the world but the Spirit that is from God, so that we may understand the things freely given to us by God (1 Cor. 2:11-12)

I think to dream big is to accept that I do not understand the spirit of God. I think to hope for great things means to accept my limitations in understanding.

For when God disappoints, I can shut down and expect less. Or I can look at my understanding and realize its needs: its need to move beyond the spirit that is from the world that wants signs and wonders; its need to move into the spirit that is in God, which sees things the world cannot see.

For only when I enter into that Spirit, will I begin to understand the things freely given to me by God. I will see things in a different light. I will see what I thought were disappointments, and understand. I will know in a different way.

A prayer to prepare for Hurricane Sandy

For all those in the path of Hurricane Sandy

Psalm 46

God is our refuge and our strength,
an ever-present help in distress.
Thus we do not fear, though earth be shaken
and mountains quake to the depths of the sea.

Though its waters rage and foam
and mountains totter at its surging.
The Lord of hosts is with us'
our stronghold is the God of Jacob.

May we all be safe!

The unobvious plan of God

I was walking down the hallway talking to a classmate, and the topic turned to plans. "Just tell God your plans, and it seems like God has another plan in mind." We both laughed and parted. But the thought remained.

It does seem that when we tell God our plans, somehow God comes up with a different one. As I thought about that, I thought of scripture.

In scripture, we find that there was a very straightforward interpretation by the leaders and faithful as to who and what the messiah should be like. That image was so strong that Jesus could never match it. And so many did not believe in him.

I think when I want things to always match up, I run the risk of missing the true experience God wants me to have. I do not pretend to know what that experience is, but I think God is asking us to go deeper. Do not be content with the seemingly obvious. Try to see beneath the surface. Try to find the unobvious.

When I chart my own life, I can see a pattern only if I go deeper. I suspect the same is true for many lives. I was not meant to be a monastic, but having spent so many years in the monastery in silence and prayer has prepared me well for the counseling profession I have recently choosen. Having made decisions that turned out not to be the best for me has helped me become a seeker. Having not had a straightforward life has helped me look at the little messages hidden in the crooked.

Perhaps that is what mystery is all about.

God will wipe every tear

Disillusionment. It has been a topic of late. Part of it came because we had the Gospel of Mark 10: 35-45 on Sunday, where James and John want to sit on Jesus left and right hand in the kingdom, and Jesus tells them they know not what they are asking. But part of it came just from journey, and how we discover things in life, things we had no clue were happening deep inside of us, until something or someone touches us deep down where we knew not, and we find there a deep seat of emotion and pain.

Disillusionment rocks our boat and threatens our safety. It has to. For disillusionment tells us our image of life and of God are not accurate. I think how we handle disillusionment determines whether it becomes a period of growth or a period of defeat.

I think most of us have an image of God within our own minds, and that God is suppose to be loving and kind. Yet, sometimes the pain we suffer in life makes us question that. I know that feeling. I know that question. I know disillusionment.

I found great comfort in the words of Revelation 21:3-4: I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Behold, God's dwelling is with humankind. He will dwell with them and they will be God's people and God will always be with them as their God. God will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, for the old order has passed away."

These words tell me that God knows my tears. Not only does God know them, but the words imply that God will wipe every tear from my eyes. I find comfort from this verse, as it reminds me that my suffering shall not be forgotten. Somehow, in God's plan of things, it shall count for something. Even though God did not save me from suffering, that suffering shall somehow be turned into something better.

For I too have found my image of God distorted by my very human understanding. I too continue to experience disillusionment along my journey. I hold on to the hope that each disillusionment will not be a defeat, but rather a peeling away of the layers of my ignorance.

For disillusionment can be God's way of teaching me. I can learn only if I let go of Whom I want my God to be and accept Who God really is. I can take disillusionment not as my stumbling block, but as another door opening to a deeper understanding. I can. It just takes time and patience.

The second mile

I find some of the gospel quotes are hard sayings. In Matthew 5:41 we read:  Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him for two miles. I feel that this advice allows others to take advantage of me. Am I to allow it?

But I think that view misses the point. I think the Gospel story intends to challenge me to look at my giving, and see what prompts it.

I recently experienced the receiving end. Someone reached out to me gratuitously. The thoughtful and unexpected gesture moved me deeply. As I struggled to voice my "thank you" the person simply said, "All I ask is that when you can, pass it on."

Maybe that is what Jesus is saying. Maybe all Jesus wants from us is to not forget to hand on what has been shared with us. Maybe going the second mile means, you were forced into the first. Let the second be your own good will. Let the second be willing. Let the second be handing on.

I know for too long I felt I did not have enough to hand on. I wanted to wait until I had excess. Then, I felt, I could give. But meditating on this gospel verse, I think that this is the message. I will be forced to give, but I should then realize, I can give. I do not have to wait for excess.

For what does it mean when I wait for excess but that I think of giving as something outside of myself, like the scraps I have left over that I can then offer to beggars. Maybe the second mile means, giving is not a matter of excess. It is a matter of reaching down inside of myself and giving from that inner resource. It is giving the way we do with  loved ones, from the heart, from our inner selves. And if I have to be forced to realize that, do not stop there. Go the second mile.

Those are my thoughts on second miles. What are yours?

Finding strength in psalm 18

I cannot think of a psalm that speaks more to the heart than psalm 18: I love you, Lord, my strength, my rock, my fortress, my deliverer, my shield, my saving horn, my stronghold!

I find I need a gentle (and sometimes constant) reminder that I am not alone on this journey, despite how it may appear. God is there for me, even when I cannot sense a Presence. When I am fearful or anxious, it helps to repeat this psalm, for it reminds me that God is more than a Divine Being out there somewhere. God is close to me as my rock and fortress.

I find the images that psalm 18 gives helps me to re-design my own image of Divine Love: rock, fortress, shield and saving horn. God is not just a creator, God is a protector as well. And I know I need a God who can deliver.

Psalm 18 goes on to say in verse 18-20: God rescued me from my mighty enemy, from my foes too powerful for me. They attacked me on a day of distress, but the Lord came to my support. God set me free in the open; God rescued me because God loves me.

I cannot think of a psalm that offers me more hope and confidence in God's saving love.

And so I repeat often, while driving, while working, while walking, I love you Lord, my strength!

Whoever is not against me

I love to think of the scripture passage in Luke (9:49-50) where John says to Jesus "We saw someone casting out demons in your name and we tried to prevent him because he does not follow in our company." And Jesus said to him, "Do not prevent him, for whoever is not against you is for you."  This gospel is interesting because the same event is narrated in Matthew, but the wording is different (and probably what we would rather hear): "He who is not with me is against me."

Back in the 1960s a group in France started an ecumenical community they called Taize.  Recently on a blog called Monks and Mermaids  Fr. David reminisced about his experience visiting Taize back in 1962. He writes:

What Taize gave me was a vision which has never left me, a perspective in which I could discern the Holy Spirit at work in all kinds of situations, indeed in all situations in which he is not excluded...Brother Roger held out to all the possibility of being orthodox without being sectarian, of adhering to the Truth while remaining humble in the presence of those who doubt or deny it, because Christ works in and through them...God does not have favourites...We are all equally sons and daughters of God.

I love this attitude, for it invites us to broaden our understanding of religion and spirituality, to realize that outside of our defined institutions, there are other individuals with the spirit of God. Luke's gospel says that Jesus himself said, Whoever is not against you is with you. I think we like to think more like Matthew...having our lines drawn, and putting others on the right or on the left. And yet Luke gives us a Jesus who sought to unite, not divide. He often bends rules and pushes the envelope in favor of compassion, understanding, and forgiveness. 

And that Jesus is the one I'd like to follow.

Never having to backtrack.

Journeys are interesting adventures

I don't know about you, but I often get lost. I think I am following directions, and that I'm good. Until I don't arrive. And then I realize that somewhere along the way I missed a turn, or turned the wrong way.

I think that happens to us on our spiritual journey as well. We are going along fine, thinking that we are headed in the right direction until something happens that seems to say, "dead end". It may be distraction, it may be misunderstanding, but we do get lost.


Francis Thompson has an interesting poem that may speak to this journey. He wrote back in the early 1900s:

I FLED Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.	5
Up vistaed hopes I sped;

Thompson is admitting the many ways we flee from God. Most of us are hardly aware of these flights. We may even think we are headed toward God. But life happens, and things become important, and we just lose our way in our effort to survive or make a living. We are not actually running from God. We are just trying to keep going.

But Thompson speaks to that wandering. He suggests that in reality, we flee God when we fail to make God the center of our search.

The wonderful part of Thompson's poem is not his realization of flight, but the realization that God was hounding him:

Still with unhurrying chase,
And unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
Came on the following Feet,

I find it a comforting thought that no matter where our journey takes us, we have Someone following us, not seeking to destroy or even condemn us, but to save.

What are the implications of this hounding? The Divine Being follows us so that when we realize that we have gotten lost on our journey, we don't have to walk all the way back to the beginning of our search and start all over again. All we have to do is turn around. And when we turn, we find that the Divine Hound who has followed close behind. Thompson writes God saying:

Whom wilt thou find to love ignoble thee,
Save Me, save only Me?	170
All which I took from thee I did but take,
Not for thy harms,
But just that thou might’st seek it in My arms.

The wonderful thing is, no journey, however wandering or lost it may  become, will ever be in vain. For the Hound of Heaven, God, is right there to make it count.

We have only to turn.

A common dilemma: Getting it wrong, again

I love to ponder the story of the Garden of Eden as it is written in Genesis.  Recently I had some new thoughts. When thinking about Adam and Eve, it occurred to me that their problem was not so much eating the forbidden fruit, but in thinking that that fruit would make them like God. If you read Chapter two carefully, you see that the tree is called "the tree of the knowledge of good and evil" (2:17).  It is as if the author is trying to tell us that knowing good and evil does not equate becoming godly or God-like. We need more.

I wonder if the real reason Adam and Eve are removed from the Garden of Eden was not because they sinned, but because they failed to understand. God had given them everything they could want. Yet, with all their blessings, they didn't know where to look for growth. They thought it would come from something outside of themselves.

By being cast into a harsh world, Adam and Eve actually had a better chance. Not having the beauty or comforts of Eden, their search had to turn inward.  They had to realize that growth starts, not in something outside of themselves, but within their own hearts, with pondering and reflection.

It is a lesson for you and me.  Perhaps we too fail in our search for God when things are going well and life seems blessed. Perhaps we think we can find God in the fruit of success and the taste of accomplishment. And perhaps the difficulties we encounter are meant to help us retreat from searching outside of ourselves, so that we will search within. 

That brings us to the real question, where is the Garden of Eden? Is it some beautiful place of long ago, closed to us forever? Or is it a hidden place, one we can and must discover for ourselves? I think it is the latter. And I think that we find that Garden when we retreat and reflect. For the secret of the Garden is really that God walked with his creation. And when we find God, we have by that very definition, discovered our own Garden of Eden. For what is the Garden but a place where God is close to us, and we no longer need to seek the Divine in the things outside.

Preparation that seems like death

Fall. Who doesn't love the beautiful color of fall leaves? At no other time of the year do leaves break out in such brilliant colors of reds, yellows and golds. And yet, those beautiful colors mark the beginning of the end, for soon these same beautiful leaves will fall to the ground and be no more.

Such is the lesson nature gives us of life. Despite what you or I may want (unlimited sunshine here), life is made up of cycles. It is not just spring, summer, fall, and winter. It is also life and death, budding and harvest (yes, harvest is a type of death as well, when a tree gives what it has for production of a new generation).

But nature also shows us that there are times that seem like death when it is really a season of dormancy. I know from my family's apple farm that unless apple trees have a sufficient number of days of below freezing temperatures they will not bear fruit the following season. A lesson on what seems like death being rejuvenation.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-4 says: There is an appointed time for everything, and a time for every affair  under the heavens. A time to be born, and a time to die: a time to plant and a time to uproot the plant, a time for death and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep, and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance...

Fall offers me a time to reflect. If I would profit, I need to take some time to ponder its beauty and think about its lessons. I might even take an apple with me and sit somewhere quiet. Then I can enjoy the brilliant colors of the trees whose leaves are turning before they depart, even as those same trees are preparing for the rest of winter.

Making room for sacred space

By Sr. Mary Grace Thul, OP

I have always loved psalm 27, especially verse 4: One thing I ask of the Lord, this I seek, to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.

You have to understand why this psalm meant so much to me. I lived in a monastery, and my life flowed with the rhythm of prayer, meditation, and silence. When I prayed those words, I took them literally.

But then life happened, and my life within the House of the Lord became jeopardized. I said this prayer with greater intensity, as my one request truly became for the grace to stay there always. Despite these longings, despite my desire, my health deteriorated, and I watch with increasing hopelessness as my treasure slipped away through my fingers.

In the end, the Lord did not grant my request. No answers came, and I had to accept my fate, that monastic life did not suit my personality, my temperament, or my needs. I left the community and the monastic way of life with a heavy heart. I grieved my loss, living in the House of the Lord, for I believed my loss was irretrievable.

As the years have passed, those words from psalm 27 continued to haunt me. And I've come to understand a number of things. I've come to realize that the House of the Lord is precious because of Presence.  I realize that it is Presence that fills a choir or a church. It is Presence that I can sense when on monastery grounds. I can bring that same Presence into my own life. When I do, I make a sacred space within my own heart and soul. Then, my apartment, my car, or a walk in nature becomes for me, the House of the Lord. And I can dwell in that House all the days of my life.

That is now my goal. To remember. To make room for sacred space.. And because of my understanding of Presence, I no longer grieve.