Mercy and Chaos

I briefly made eye contact with him as I entered the store just like I would anyone else I did not know when entering a convenience store. He was standing with his back to the fountain drink dispenser with a flip-style cell phone in his right hand. The phone was open and he held it in front of him like a microphone and he was speaking into it, confidently and loudly. At first I assumed he was talking to someone on the phone but I could not have been more wrong. My first hint something was askew was when I glanced back at him and realized that his gaze was fixed firmly on me. He did not look away quickly as you expect someone you did not know to do after making eye contact. Normal people just don’t stare at strangers unless they are on fire.

In a second I realized that what he was saying did not making any sense. Continuing to speak into the phone like he was addressing a crowd he repeated over and over again that the solution to the unemployment problem was to round up all unemployed veterans and give them a two-day training course in counseling and they could solve all mental health problems and restore the nation to full employment. I was in a store just down the street from a homeless shelter and other places that cater to homeless and disadvantaged. It is not a store I frequent often because I don’t smoke unless I am fishing and I don’t drink so I don’t have much reason to visit convenience stores that sell beer, tobacco and snack foods. When I do shop there, it is not unusual to see one of the people who have for one reason or another landed in a tough situation. Such people are typically easy to spot because of the way they look or are dressed. This guy was different. He was middle aged with neatly combed hair and was clean shaven. He wore a causal jacket with an LL Bean logo, khaki slacks, and slip-on dress shoes. He was, in fact, dressed like me.

As I crossed the short distance across the store to the aisle where the sunflower seeds I came to purchase were located, I passed within a few feet of him and that was when the smell hit me. He clearly had not taken a shower or washed his clothes for week. In an instant I was almost gagging and my eyes watering from the acrid stench. In that moment I realized that I had encountered someone that our society does not want to admit exists. The forceful stare I could feel even when I had my back turned continued the whole time I searched for the seeds I prefer. When I grabbed the bag I was looking for, I turned back toward the front counter and he quickly moved forward and blocked the aisle in front of me.

“Do you like seeds,” he asked? Yes,” I said. “I eat too many of them sometimes because once you have a couple it is hard to stop.”

“I know what you mean,” he responded.” I used to eat them all the time until the Secret Service blamed me for being out of touch when the disaster in Rhode Island went down.” I looked him in the eye thinking I had heard him wrong. He kept staring at me with no change of expression.

Without waiting for me to respond he continued. “I have had to carry two cell phones ever since then just to make sure they can reach me to verify my whereabouts or they will lock me up again.” I was dumbstruck and could not think of a thing to say to him. My usual practice is to just speak to people who speak to me by making small talk. Usually people can find some common point of reference to make small talk even if it is meaningless.

In the empty space between us that seemed to be planets apart, he just kept talking. “Mrs. Clinton,” he said, “blamed me for the Monica thing and she had me bounced of the detail and then she me hospitalized for the rest of the time they were in Whitehouse. Pretty soon they started drugging me, so I could not tell what was happening. The New York Times and NBC were trying to find me so the agency kept moving me from hospital to hospital. My favorite place in Georgia because they had good barbeque there.” I could not think how to best respond so I just edged around him and went the check stand. The clerk pleasantly greeted me and we completed the purchase and both of us pretended the 800-pound gorilla that was that poor guy who kept yammering about Clinton era conspiracies did not exist. The lady behind me line remained silent and motionless in an effort to draw the man’s attention. It worked for because the guy talked to my back all the way out the store.

When I got home I read a column written by Maureen Dowd of the New York Times my cousin posted on her Facebook page in which Dowd included a letter from a Catholic priest she had asked to comment on the shootings in New England. The priest, Kevin O’Neil, quoted a contemporary theologian, James F. Keenan, SJ who said: “Comforting the afflicted is a response in charity to the neighbor who is suffering. More specifically, it is an act of mercy, of entering into the chaos of another so as to respond to the person in need.“

After reading that phrase I was both comforted and discomforted. At a relatively late stage in my life, I have come to realize a consequence of my baptism and the calling of my faith is I am compelled to be merciful. While I have begun to reach out to others to respond to their needs, I was not even close to ready to be merciful to the stranger in the store beyond being pleasant.

His chaos was real, it was up front and it was more than I could handle. There is an axiom that applies to the business of mercy and that is that if you cannot bring calm into the chaos, don’t go there. In the hours that have passed since the encounter I have tried to come to an understanding of how to bring merciful calm into a place that is totally outside my comfort zone. As yet I don’t have an answer so all can do is to pray for God to care for the man in whatever way God knows he needs care. I will also pray that if God plans to work through me to provide mercy, that God will send the Holy Spirit to enlighten me. 

Our world needs God’s mercy and God's mercy enters the world through humans. We share that mercy with each other through and with His grace. Without the grace that comes from a loving God who wants us to make a difference, we will accomplish nothing regardless of how passionately we desire to be effective.
This thing we are encountering is more than about gun control. It is bigger than having a mental health care policy that allows clearly delusional humans to exist without a stable, comforting environment. It is not new. Our struggles have existed throughout our existence. It is not just about having free choice which allows us to choose between right and wrong. It is about understanding how evil exists and only God is big enough to overcome evil. We can’t do it alone.

For me, right now all I can do is pray for the calm that will allow me to step into the chaos of others and that others who also desire to serve God through acts of mercy will find the calm they also need.


God have mercy.

Christ have mercy.

God have mercy.

Amen.

Silent Sound

1st Kings 19:9-13

There he came to a cave, where he took shelter. But the word of the LORD came to him: Why are you here, Elijah? He answered: “I have been most zealous for the LORD, the God of hosts, but the Israelites have forsaken your covenant. They have destroyed your altars and murdered your prophets by the sword. I alone remain, and they seek to take my life.” Then the LORD said: Go out and stand on the mountain before the LORD;* the LORD will pass by. There was a strong and violent wind rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the LORD—but the LORD was not in the wind; after the wind, an earthquake—but the LORD was not in the earthquake; after the earthquake, fire—but the LORD was not in the fire; after the fire, a light silent sound.

When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. A voice said to him, Why are you here, Elijah?

Stunned by what happened on Friday morning in Newtown, I wanted to be like Elijah and go up to the mountain and hide in cave. Not because my life was threatened. Not because I have been called to be a prophet to deaf people in a time of danger. I wanted to hide away because now we have been forced to have hard conversations about important things that will further detract from our ability to speak to each other without giving way to red zone anger. We have to have these conversations because terror has been loosed on the one segment of our society we cherish the most. I wanted to hide from the grief that every parent who has lost a child feels when they learn of the death of another child. Even now several days later, I still want to go hide in a cave rather than face the national outpouring of grief that is everywhere around me. I know, however, there is really no place to hide. I still went into the cave.

The verse from Kings that has moved me to write this came to me yesterday as I struggled to imagine how we can begin to communicate with each other and  to share with everyone else in our society the profound sense of loss that radiates from appears to have been an idyllic New England town.

Elijah learned that he could not hide away. The Lord found him there and called him out.

The message, though, is greater than just learning there is no where we can hide that the Lord cannot find us. Eventually we painfully learn that when we hide, we hide only from ourselves and so the attempt to hide is pointless. The great thing is to recognize how the Lord spoke to Elijah because it is how he speaks to us all. The Lord was not in the wind, the earthquake or the wind. His voice was not one of drama and awe that thundered down from heaven across the lands. His voice was in the silent sound.

It is not possible to explain a silent sound but once you understand it you know instantly who is speaking to you. God’s voice does not peal like a Cathedra bell or echo across hills like thunder. It is the tiny, light voice that whispers in your soul, urging you to do the right thing or, sometimes to do nothing but listen to him.

So where then is the voice of the Lord today? I can’t hear him the voices I hear that shout in rage demanding change. I can’t hear him in defensive reaction of those who don’t think that change will prevent will prevent another Newtown, Columbine or Aurora. I hear his voice as I think about parents who have suffered the one thing no parent should ever have to face – the senseless death of a child.  I hear his voice in those who offer consolation and compassion. I hear his voice in the anguish of every single person I have encountered in the past days. I hear his voice in those who call for prayer and calm.

The silent sound reaches to deepest part of the cave. The voice asks me why I am the cave. The voice calls me out. The voice compels to come out of the cave and do all that I can do at this moment on this day from where I am right now. All I can do is pray.  The voice has clearly told me to be still and know that he is God. Please hear my voice now. Be still and encounter the silent sound that is the voice of God and pray with me. All of this far too big for us but it is not too big for him.

 

Servant Leadership

Servant Leadership

Reading

Mark 9:33-35

They came to Capernaum and, once inside the house, he began to ask them, “What were you arguing about on the way?” But they remained silent. They had been discussing among themselves on the way who was the greatest. Then he sat down, called the Twelve, and said to them, “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.”

Reflection

The first image that comes to mind is remembering days past when I would look over my shoulder into the back seat of our suburban in response to a growing engagement between my grade school aged sons and ask why they were fighting. When they responded with an explanation which was usually something like who be first in line for something, I would respond that neither would go first and they would have to wait until everyone else had gone first. Today I am not sure what to think when I read about grown men in the immediate proximity of the greatest human to work the earth behaving the same as school boys. The irony is nothing short of delicious but it is also scary. If the disciples can’t get it right how can I? How can we get it right?

Jesus tells us how to get it right. Instead of arguing about who is first or last or greatest or any manifestation of pride we should consider first how to serve rather than be served. His message is not about prideful leadership but rather about leading through humble service. We have an opportunity to practice servant leadership here today. The last shall be served first and the first shall be served last.

My sons are both grown now. They spend much time together even now as adults and I love to watch them interact with each other. Each is kind and gentle with the other and it is almost silly to watch them determine who will be first to grab a piece of steak off a platter even when there is more than enough to share. If one ever dares to reach first without asking the other will strictly rebuke him to mind his manners. As brothers, they serve each other and their way can lead us to understand a new of serving each other as brothers in Christ. I am proud of my sons.

Love

Psalms 139: 1-14

LORD, you have probed me, you know me:You know when I sit and stand; you understand my thoughts from afar. You sift through my travels and my rest; with all my ways you are familiar. Even before a word is on my tongue, LORD, you know it all. Behind and before you encircle me and rest your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, far too lofty for me to reach. Where can I go from your spirit? From your presence, where can I flee? If I ascend to the heavens, you are there; if I lie down in Sheol, there you are. If I take the wings of dawn and dwell beyond the sea, Even there your hand guides me; your right hand holds me fast. If I say, “Surely darkness shall hide me, and night shall be my light” Darkness is not dark for you, and night shines as the day. Darkness and light are but one. You formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother’s womb. I praise you, because I am wonderfully made; wonderful are your works! My very self you know.

Reflection

Is not our greatest desire, our deepest longing to be loved? As we begin to finally settle into last measures of the time we are to spend together, we come see with sparkling clarity this weekend has been about love. We started on Thursday evening by asking you to be willing to know yourself. That can be terrifying because the biggest monster in the closet for almost everyone is that if our true nature were known, we would not be worthy of love. We quake at our certain knowledge no person, not even God, in his greatness, could love us because of our unworthiness. To crack open the closet door and peek inside takes courage and encouragement. It takes faith that what we find will not suck us further into darkness but we hope that what we did not know about ourselves will be drawn into the light and we will still be loved.

We showed you a video that encouraged you to be ok with opening the closet door even more. The message that there is nothing we can do that would make God to love us any less became our cornerstone for the rest of this weekend. Think about what the little boy felt when the reality of his father’s love became clear to him. Now to try wrap around just how the great message is that God has for us is in comparison to that small human act.

This scripture reading was chosen to remind us that we are known by God. He knew us before we were formed. He knows the entirety of each of us. He knows everything that is hidden in our closets and he wants to us to throw open the closet doors so that his light can flood deep into the darkest corners so what we could not see can no longer frighten us. When we live in the light of his love we can just let go. Think about that a minute. We can just let go. We can let out a deep sigh and lean back secure in the knowledge that there is nothing more within in us that is hidden and that we are still loved. Completely. Fully. Without end.

What does God, who knows us yet loves us, ask of us in return? He only asks that we seek to know him and to love him in return. Today is about love.

Hope

Hope

Reading

First Thessalonians 5:5-11

But you, brothers, are not in darkness, for that day to overtake you like a thief. For all of you are children of the light and children of the day. We are not of the night or of darkness. Therefore, let us not sleep as the rest do, but let us stay alert and sober. 

Those who sleep go to sleep at night, and those who are drunk get drunk at night. But since we are of the day, let us be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love and the helmet that is hope for salvation. For God did not destine us for wrath, but to gain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live together with him.Therefore, encourage one another and build one another up, as indeed you do.

Reflection:

We are asked to put on a helmet that is the hope for salvation. What is the helmet Paul is referring to that is hope? It is our faith in the knowledge that God did not mean for us to die a certain and final death but that we are to be saved to eternal life. The better news is that all of us, whether we are living now or have died, will live with Him. All of us.

We are children of the light and day and not of night and darkness. We know light is good and is of God. The first words of Genesis teach us this when God said to let there be light and there was light and God saw the light was good. He then separated the light from dark. Eventually he created us to give the light purpose.

We also have a purpose. To be children of the light with hope for salvation does not come without obligation and challenge. We are told to encourage one another and build one another up.

That is why we are here today and this weekend. God has spoken to you through us. We invited you to be here to learn for yourselves what it means to be a child of the light and the day. Our challenge to you will be to become one of us. We pray that you will also become a reflection of light of God. We pray your voices will also call out to others to learn and be reminded of what it means to be in the light of God’s salvation. That is our hope and our hope, sustained by God, is in you. Today is about hope.

Faith

Faith

Mark 10:46-52

They came to Jericho. And as he was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a sizable crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind man, the son of Timaeus, sat by the roadside begging. On hearing that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, “Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.” And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he kept calling out all the more, “Son of David, have pity on me.” Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” So they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take courage; get up, he is calling you.”  He threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus. Jesus said to him in reply, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man replied to him, “Master, I want to see.” Jesus told him, “Go your way; your faith has saved you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed him on the way.

Reflection:

Imagine, if you can, the drama of the moment for Bartimaeus. He was a man who spent his life on the fringe of society. In this time those afflicted with physical disabilities were considered to have been cursed with infirmity or disability because they were sinful. Today we know this is not true. The blind of Jesus’ time were targets of scorn and survived only through the compassion of a few who pitied them.

Bartimaeus had no reason to have faith but he did. Through his exercise of faith he was given the gift of sight, the ability to see the world.

How did Bartimaeus respond? He did not run into town celebrating his new found vision or head to the nearest pub to make merry or chose one of many other choices he could have made. Recall that Jesus told Bartimaeus to go his own way. Instead Bartimaeus followed Christ. Why? Because Bartimaeus knew that Jesus had done more than give him sight – Jesus had saved him.

We know the miracle Jesus would work on us this week end is not to restore our sight. We all, in varying degrees, can see just fine. The gift he would have us accept is more than just vision. He wants to save us. In our Creed we profess to believe not just in things that are visible but also what is invisible. Our faith is what leads us to believe in what is not visible and that same faith allows to begin to see what had previously invisible to us.

Faith grows within us the ability to see our wives as partners and soul mates and not just someone who cooks, cleans and care for children. Our children become gifts to cherish and nurture rather than objects to endure. The people around us become brothers and sisters of Jesus and in each person we see the divinity of Christ revealed to us. Once we begin see the people around us as unique gifts to the world from God we are driven to reach out to those in need and to serve them as Christ served Bartimaeus. Faith gives us the ability to see the image of Christ and motivates us to become more like him. Faith will become our sight.

The Fifth Commandment

The Fifth Commandment: Honor your father and your mother, that you may have a long life in the land the LORD your God is giving you.

The Ten Commandments have set forth instructions on how to behave. We are taught while each commandment does not bear equal weight with the others, we should try live in accordance with the moral compass they provide us.

Jesus, however, taught to us to approach our moral compass differently in the Sermon on the Mount. Each of the beatitudes revealed to us in the sermon should motivate us to behave as though we are called to not just avoid what is wrong but seek to do what is right.

So why is the 5^th Commandment on my mind? It is because of a posting my cousin Rusty placed on the blog he and his wife maintain about their own going life in Christ and their ministry. The posting, which can be reached by this link, http://jonathanministry.wordpress.com/author/jonathanministry/is beautifully, poignantly, and precisely crafted. He tells the story of what has happened to my aunt, his mother, since the day before New Year’s Eve Day last year when she went out to get her mail and went down with a stroke by the mailbox at the street curb. What he said was not a surprise to me because we spent several months caring for her until it became clear she needed to relocate to Reno where Rusty and his family could assume care for her. He described the changes in far more detail with greater compassion and eloquence than I could muster and I thank him for taking the time to put down in writing what we all observed so starkly over the course of the year.

Rusty and his family have defined for me the commandment to honor your father and mother. There is, however, a difference between observing a commandment as proscribed than living it as an opportunity return God’s love by sharing it.

This leads me to my comments about the beatitudes. The 10 Commandments are stark, jolting and sterile. There is no inspiration to suggest they arise or result in loving behavior. They are simply instructions. The beatitudes go beyond this and as I scan Matthew 5 in the context of Rusty’s posting, I see many of the beatitudes differently.

Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted. Rusty paints a picture of what has happened to my aunt with great sadness but without anger or regret. What has happened has happened and while we would never say what has happened to her is God’s will, it is part of His plan. He is mourning the changes in her we longed to see diminish but have only become more predictable and defined. We who know and love Joann mourn with him. Because we are sharing our mourning with our world without despair and hopelessness but with faith and hope, God will comfort us. Mary gave us example of how to mourn as she witnessed the suffering and death of her son and we continue to look toward her for inspiration. We share burdens of sadness and grief because in the sharing the burdens are halved. That is the nature of God’s comfort. He has taught us how to mourn. We are comforted. I am comforted.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied. I am not talking about righteousness that is rigid, condescending and judgmental. I am talking about seeking to live in accordance with God’s will. Perhaps it would be easier to say we called to live rightly. Rusty and has family have reordered their priorities to become caretakers for the one person who has cared for all of them for so many years. I include myself in the group she cared for with such great love and now she is so far away. They are doing the right things for the right reasons and I am grateful. Despite the sadness in the letter, I also hear the strength of his faith coming through. God is providing the strength they need and Rusty and his family can be assured they can enjoy satisfaction.  They are living rightly.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. This is really the meat of what I am trying to say. To be merciful means we have to reach out, to touch, to console, to comfort … to love. We can’t just avoid wrong acts; we are called to embrace the right ones. We are to seize opportunities to be merciful gladly and not just because we are obligated to be merciful. Motivation and intent count for as much in God’s eyes as outcomes for only he can control how things turn out. We are challenged to bring our best selves to the service of mercy. God will take care of the rest. That is how he shows us mercy.

There is another element to this blessing. Not only are we called to live in accordance with God’s will but we are called to live it joyfully. Even though my aunt is a prisoner of her rebellious body and mind, she is seeking to do things that have brought her joy and allowed her to share her joy all her life. Christmas is a time of joy and the things we do are meant to be done with joy, for joy and to share joy. A Beatitude is a blessing and to be blessed is to be happy. Read this beatitude again but this time say “Happy are the merciful for they will be shown mercy.”

God, I think, organized us to live in families to give us the opportunity to learn out to love and be loved in accordance with his desire for us to love one another as we love ourselves. We can’t do this perfectly or even consistently but we keep trying even as we know are bound to never be able love perfectly on this side of eternity. Sometimes, though, we get it right. Even we get it right we don’t make bad things right, we can’t always overcome the inevitabilities of age and illness but we make things better. Things are better. God has blessed our family.

Thank you Rusty.

Reflection on Romans 12 and John 5

Before my 4^th day group meetings each week, I try to make a habit to study the daily Mass readings. It is pretty safe to say lectionary readings were not laid out by happenstance and there is a common theme or thread between the 1^st reading, the responsorial psalm and the gospel. Some days the message is pretty easy for me to recognize. Other days the connection is much vague.

I am pretty sure there was no intended connection between Kathy’s chosen scripture theme from Romans 12 and Skeeter’s scripture theme from John. I firmly believe that while Kathy and Skeeter acted freely and independently in making their choices, there was no randomness in the results.

Despite my near certain understanding there had to be a connection, I struggled to connect the dots.

Finally, one of those aha moments happened to me yesterday afternoon. My brother Greg Hanchett and I were drawn into the day chapel at St. Cyril’s. Our work in the kitchen was over. It was time to turn things over to the clean up and closing committees. After rehashing the weekend for a while, we each fell silent, contemplating the tabernacle before us. As we sat together in the presence of the Lord, I began to see images that were two integrated parts of a whole.

In the Gospel we hear the disciples say, “This saying is hard, who can accept it?” It IS a hard saying. Catholics believe in the real presence in the Eucharist. In the time of Christ just think about how alien the idea would be to people. People would just not have a frame of reference to understand what was being discussed.

Peter responded to the Master’s question about the disciples desire to leave. You just have to love Peter. He just kept trying to get it. His response was startlingly simple and absolutely clear. “Master, to whom else would we go?”

Let’s look now at Romans 12.

We read, “Rejoice in hope, endure in affliction, persevere in prayer.”

This passage comes from a longer paragraph that is called “Mutual Love.” Throughout the paragraph St. Paul offers us a prescription for living despite knowing how hard the words of eternal are to embrace. Isn’t often true that the hardest things to accept are truest?

The words rejoice, hope, endure and persevere offer us guidance of how to live in this life in order to enjoy eternal life. Perhaps it would be easier to say that Peter describes the destination. Paul offers a road map of how to travel to that destination.

The time came for Greg and I to leave the chapel and rejoin the community. I found myself blessed with an understanding of what this year’s Cursillos were all about that works for me.

Let’s all stay with Jesus and join to together to eat his flesh and drink his blood in the Eucharist. Let’s live our lives by rejoicing with hope, enduring affliction and persevering in prayer. If we do all these things we will know eternal life.

Lone Moutain and a Pair of Psalms

I am privileged to live in Montana and I am further privileged that my job allows me to attend a conference at the Big Sky Resort which is located literally at the foot of Lone Mountain. This evening as darkness fell, I left the party inside the Lodge as the noise of the party rose higher and higher and quality conversation became harder to find. The sun had already set directly behind the mountain and twilight was hard upon the country. While day and night last for hours the distance between them can be breathtakingly short.

I found a quiet place with a view of the mountain to read Evening Prayer. In the short 15 minutes between the invitatory and the final blessing, the western sky shifted from daylight blue to white to red to orange and back to blue but, this time, the darkening blue of night. A new crescent moon was hung to the left of the peak as if it were dangling from the remains of the day clouds that were now rose pink against the ancient night sky.

When prayer ended, I found myself reflecting not on anything I had read in Morning Prayer yesterday from Psalm 139:

Lord, what is man that you care for him,
mortal man, that you keep him in mind;
man, who is merely a breath
whose life fades like a passing shadow?

Looking from my vantage point up to the top of the dog tooth shaped peak and from there left up the Gallatin Range and back to the right and up at Indian Peaks, I felt very small against the primeval immenseness of the mountains.

Who am I that, God should care for me, a mere speck in the spread of the universe and the span of time. My life is merely a breath and for a few minutes, as the blueness of the sky faded to black, I truly felt insignificant.

In twinkling, literally, I saw the first stars poke through the blanket of the night darkened sky, and one of the Psalms from this evening’s prayer slipped across my consciousness. From Psalm 144:

O Lord, you search me and you know me,
you know my resting and my rising,
you discern my purpose from afar.

Later on:

O where can I go from your spirit,
or where can I flee from your face?
If I climb the heavens, you are there.
If I lie in the grave, you are there.

And later still:

For it was you who created my being,
knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I thank you for the wonder of my being,
for the wonders of all your creation.

Finally:

For it was you who created my being,
knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I thank you for the wonder of my being,
for the wonders of all your creation.

Understanding finally filled the empty spaces and what small moment was before suddenly grew tenfold. The hugeness of the mountains and vastness of the wilderness was not meant to make feel small. They are there because God is big. I should wonder at creation and in my wonder continue my trip toward salvage. Worshiping God because he created my very being and gifted me with the ability to see the glory of His creation that I might wonder at it defines me. Tonight God revealed more of Himself to me through His words handed down to me through the generations and through His creation.

Lord, I thank you for the wonder of my being and for the wonders of all your creation. 

 



Words

The late poet priest John O’Donohue once wrote that a blank sheet of paper represents silence. To put pen to paper is to cover up the silence by words. The white space that surrounds words frames the words and gives them perspective. Just as there a two sides to a coin, there are two sides to words – what is written and what is not. The words draw us in but the white space gives us rest and room to absorb what is said.

Looking at a blank sheet of paper with a pen in hand, searching for  the first word is to look deep into a vast wildness that is both compelling and repelling us in the same breath. To look at empty page of white space on a computer screen with the cursor blinking remorselessly and relentlessly is less poetic, however. Poetry can be captured on a napkin, in notebook, on blackboard or even a matchbook cover. The computer screen, however, seems sterile but within the sterility there lies the hope of fertility. The mind is where words capture images that are both visible and invisible to the eye and given the images form that can be shared.

That first keystroke, like the first pen stroke, shatters the silence and page becomes a place of both sound and silence. We struggle to balance those extremes in our limited understanding of that place we live that is life but is moving toward death and a new life. More keystrokes fall and letters appear on screen, seeming random at first, but then words appears and the words create sentences that become something we can grasp.

The words we create – do they mean anything? What do they sound like? What do they feel like? What do we do with them? Word’s make us feel the softness of a baby’s breath against our neck as we cuddle our child close to us. Words help us hear the hard scratch of the lilac branches against the brick outside our house animated by a hard night wind. Words can help us sense the love our pets have for us as our dog looks upon us with an unbroken gaze that is both soft but also direct.

Words allow me to describe a giant yellow moon peering over the brown and tan distant mountains that are fading toward blue and black as daylight fails to hold its grasp on the sun.

Words save me when I find them in time to make a connection that needs to be made. Words fail me when I wait too long and they no longer have the power to make a connection. Words define me. Words define us. Words connect us with God. We call those words prayer. 

Luke 6:20-29

 Iam a visual person. Whenever I read this gospel passage, I try to create a mental image of the scene when Jesus spoke these words. I try to imagine what the crowd looked like and what they did as He spoke. Where was he looking when he raised his eyes to disciples. Did the disciples return His gaze? Did Jesus’ body language imply that he was receiving the words he was sharing from above or was He speaking to them matter of factfully like we would talk with each other?

In the end this flight of imagination is largely pointless. His message is timeless and it is directed to us, right now today. We are the poor, the hungry, and the saddened but if we are not any of those we are hated.

Father Jack Peterson share on the Beatitudes:

Look at first beatitude which is the door to the others. It is the logical place to begin our efforts to dive deeply into the Gospel way of life. It describes an attitude that needs to govern the heart of the Christian believer. It shapes the whole way in which one approaches life. The first beatitude is, “Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

The poor are those who are fully aware of their profound need for God in every dimension of their lives. They have come to peace with the reality that God is God, and they are not. They are convinced that everything good in life is completely free and flows from the generous hand of God. They trust, like a child, in the goodness of the Father and His desire to take care of His children.

The poor do not rely upon things or people for ultimate meaning or purpose in life, but rather rely upon the love and grace of Almighty God. They are quick to thank God and attribute their blessings and successes to Him. They are also quick to turn to Him when suffering and adversity come, knowing that He will provide strength and show the way through the darkness into the light. They think more about God and neighbor than about themselves, even in times of trial.

This radical reliance upon God that governs the heart of the Christian makes a person truly wise, strong and capable of great acts of love. To be poor is to be Christ-like.

Once God’s grace begins to penetrate our hearts and our lives and we start to become poor, then we will find it easier to understand and desire to live the other beatitudes as well. This realization creates a profound internal struggle.

Yesterday was the 11th year of remembrance of 9/11. How do we respond to the hate that resulted in the destruction of the Towers? How do we react to the renewed sense of rage that might overwhelm as we replay the vivid images of the Trade Center Towers shattering and collapsing?  We also have to measure our individual and personal actions in the years since against the call of the gospel to remember that we are blessed when we are hated for being Christian.

The Gospel says:

"Rejoice and leap for joy on that day!
Behold, your reward will be great in heaven…”

The message for me is that I am called to remember that I am, and we are, among the many called to live today with profound and persevering faith that God will recognize when we have tried to live as though we are poor and tried to remember the example of Jesus in how to respond to hatred.

To Sing A New Song

O sing a new song to the Lord,
sing to the Lord all the earth.
O sing to the Lord, bless his name.

Psalm 96

It has been exactly one year since I have uploaded anything to this blog. I have thought and prayed often the past year in an effort to find a reason why I was so suddenly struck silent after commenting on the 10 year anniversary of the tragedy of 9/11/2001. It was as if I had simply lost my voice. When I sat down to write the next entry, I could not type the first letter of the first word which is all I had ever needed to do in the past to get the words fluid. Instead I just sat impassively staring at the blinking cursor at the top of an otherwise blank page until I finally gave up and closed the document.

The silence could not just be the result of one thing. I had managed to overcome many barriers in the days and weeks prior to 9/11/2011 to get something down but suddenly there seemed to be so many things that got in my way.

It is not as though I was completely silent. I continued to write reflection and research papers for PFLM throughout the fall and winter. My weekly contribution to the prayer group continued on after I stopped writing the blog. In fact I began to study the scriptures we discussed each week so that I could offer more insight into the discussion rather than just showing up and offering up whatever came to mind. My attention to Liturgy of the Hours has continued without a break and I have continued to reflect and live in manner worthy of my vows as a Benedictine Oblate.

During the past year I have studied everything from Celtic Catholic Spirituality to Thomas Aquinas and my knowledge of our Catholic faith, history, doctrine and theology has leapt forward as if propelled by a rocket but my desire and ability to just sit and a reflect on something small simply faded away.

I will likely never know why silence fell upon me. It could have been rawness of emotion that I was immersed in as my family lived through a seeming endless tragic storyline that stilled my voice and stifled my ability to engage in simple introspection. Perhaps I simply needed a sabbatical, some quiet time to let the lessons piled on by the progression of days settle down so I could make some sense of them. May be in time I will be granted insight that I might be able to offer up but for now it is time to sing a new song to the Lord.

Today I sing a new song to him, a song of praise and thanks that through peaks and valleys of the past year His love for me has remained steadfast even if my faith and ability to sing out has not.

Let the heavens rejoice and earth be glad, let the sea and all within it thunder praise,
let the land and all it bears rejoice, all the trees of the wood shout for joy at the presence of the Lord for he comes, he comes to rule the earth.