Tuesday, March 3, 2020
From Sacraments to Grace to Blessings
In completing a talk about the sacraments, I found myself wandering from the path to think about how Sacraments are also sacramental moments when we see sacraments at work. As I continued I came to see there is a connection between sacraments and my understanding Blessings gleaned from my study were connected. Perhaps I can take you down the same path to arrive at the same conclusion. Let's see.
We should begin with a Sacraments. The number of sacraments varies by denomination. Our church has 7. Most protestant churches have 2, baptism and holy communion. The orthodox church goes over the top with the same 7 we have but they also have established a number of things that are minor sacraments. These things are actions we consider to be sacramentals like praying the rosary. St. Augustine was sacramental machine defining, if I remember correctly, a couple of hundred or more.
Why are there are so many differences? We can look first to the definition of a sacrament which is a sacrament is an outward and visible sign of an inward working of grace or blessing flowing from Christ. Grace, of course, is something that is not defined to being available to us only through the ritual of a sacrament. It is ever present in all times and places and is not something we earn or deserve. Grace is ours whether we want it or not. If this this true, sacraments are only one of potentially many means of grace for us to enjoy, receive and share. Grace is the key.
As I wandered further down the path away from the strict definition of sacrament, I came to see that is possible to identify other means of grace in which we are changed by the encounter with the grace given in the moment. These are sacramental moments which came to us as a surprise. We might also think of these as sacred moments when we are connected to God in some way. These are not things we can usually plan for anticipate. Sometimes we can place ourselves where we might be able to live sacramentally.
It came to me that all of the times that I have written about sacramental moments, they are associated with beauty which in and of itself is one of our greatest gifts. I can’t begin to count the number of times I have stood in the current of stream and been mesmerized by the flow swirling and running past me, feeling the power against my legs. There are those electric moments when I become connected to fish but most of the time I can be overwhelmed just by present and being mindful of the need for presence. It is the beauty I see that moves me. God only needed to provide us with function. Appreciation of form is a bonus.
Beauty is not just about sunrises, storm clouds, rainbows, mountains, fields of ripening wheat or even the in the awe of our cathedral. It is deeper than the physical manifestation of creation of which the enjoyment is something that makes us different than the rest of creation. It is not even really related to the beauty men have for any particular woman. Instead it is about the grace that is shared back with us by those blessed with the ability to receive and give the grace available to them. Think of Pope Francis or Saint John Paul II. How about Mother Teresa? I am going to stretch you a little with this. How about the Dalai Lama or Gandhi. Beauty is not limited by creed or anything else. Beauty exists where beauty exists and it is up to us find it.
Beauty is grace. Grace is beauty.
How can we cultivate our opportunities to embrace beauty? By first taking the time to look. If there is one thing I have learned over my time as a budding but clumsy mystic is the first step is to simply look.
In my readings about Celtic Spirituality, something became lodged in my conscious. If you reach out to offer a blessing, you are returned a blessing. If I bless the fire of the sun, I am blessed with an ability to see what I could not see before. This is true of everything including the on the earth, in the sky and in the water.
Beauty is grace, grace is gift we given freely. Blessings come because we earn them by offering them.
What struck me as I was writing this as my wife was preparing dinner that relationships are fueled by blessings given and received. A blessing shared activates the Holy Spirit to operate through grace to bring fruit to blessed and the one who blesses.
I am trying to learn to offer blessings in the manner of the Irish monks of old who processed through life from one blessing to the next. Just think of the comfort and joy we might encounter by letting the blessings of God flow back to us through his constant grant of grace.
I offer this to you.
May The Light Of Your Soul Guide You, by John O’Donohue
May the light of your soul guide you.
May the light of your soul bless the work
You do with the secret love and warmth of your heart.
May you see in what you do the beauty of your own soul.
May the sacredness of your work bring healing, light and renewal to those
Who work with you and to those who see and receive your work.
May your work never weary you.
May it release within you wellsprings of refreshment, inspiration and excitement.
May you be present in what you do.
May you never become lost in the bland absences.
May the day never burden you.
May dawn find you awake and alert, approaching your new day with dreams,
Possibilities and promises.
May evening find you gracious and fulfilled.
May you go into the night blessed, sheltered and protected.
May your soul calm, console and renew you.
Tuesday, February 18, 2020
2/19/20 Aisling
Dreams are an integral part of Celtic Spirituality. Dreams are twins, dreams that come by day are visions. Both are gateways into the divine, places we can't visit without imagination, places we must visit to work on those things we can't approach consciously.
Dream and Vision. Aisling augus Fís
I rarely remember my dreams more than an instant after I wake up. Even if I were to have pen and paper next to the bed, the dreams would be gone before I could turn on the light and blink my vision into focus. I don't mean to imply I don't dream because I do and I am aware every morning I experienced dreams during the night. I can often times remember a topic or theme but the details are simply missing.
I would like to think I am having dreams we hear about in popular culture. Would it not be grand to wake in the morning to the vivid memory of standing knee deep in a river and casting a fly to a large willing fish? How about a dream of watching the sun melt in the western horizon leaving behind a glassy orange, gold and yellow cast on waves lapping at the edge of the world? How about to young again and to be standing hand in hand with your best girl gazing out off a towering cliff that is being pounded by angry waves driven by a now spent Hurricane.
Those aren't the kind of dreams I have. Mine tend to arise out of replaying a conflict at work that might not have actually happened but just might. Another topic is somehow trying to still find closure on relationships that ended 40 or 50 years ago with people I never think about in the daylight. How about the crazy ones like you get an email wondering why you are not attending a class you registered for and, oh by the way, you have to pass the class to graduate. Those are not the kind of dreams I would chose if I could control the process but those are the dreams that are chosen for me because dream time is the only time my bullheaded ego will allow God and the Holy spirit to dig up buried conflicts I need to resolve. There are times I wake up so frightened that I can't face getting out of bed but I have no recollection of what scared me. Other times I am so angry I often catch myself trying to continue whatever argument I dreamt of with my poor wife even though she probably wasn't even in the dream.
Dreams have a twin companion that visit us by day. We call dreams that visit during wakefulness day dreams but that does not give them justice and the common understanding of day dreams is they are the past times of lazy people who are slow to step up what is needed in the moment. Let's call them visions because often that is what they are and they can be as much sent by God as are dreams. I have lots of visions. Too many, sometimes.
Rather than chase that thought lets came back around to why dreams are important spiritually.
Numbers 12:6
He said, “Listen to my words: “When there is a prophet among you, I, the LORD, reveal myself to them in visions, I speak to them in dreams.
We know God chooses to speak to us during dreams or visions. Why? Because we are defenseless and we become willing to go where we are lead, to see what is shown us and to year what is told to us. The ego can't get in the way.
As men, husbands and fathers, the best example of God coming to us in dreams is in the example of Joseph. An angel came to him and first spoke of God's will that he accept Mary and again when he was told to carry Mary and Jesus to Egypt and a third time when he was told in a dream it was time to come back to Israel.
Think also when Elijah was called by the Lord.
1st Kings 19
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?
Why was he there? Because he was without direction and did not now what was expected next of him. He was caught in threshold, unable to go back but uncertain where to go next. In this vision God engages him in way that caused him to listen and then gave him direction. God, through the vision, gave Elijah what he needed go forth through threshold from where he was to where he was meant to be. So it was with Joseph and so it is with us.
As I look back and reflect the times when I have stood on a threshold uncertain, frightened, and confused, it was only after extended time in prayer that allowed me see with some clarity the choices before and to discern between what most likely was the will of God and what might have been my own will. It was only the quiet, protected place where my ego could not enter that it became possible to step forward. I have learned this through the experience of having chosen wrongly and then having to correct course.
I want to finish with a quote and then a poem from John O'Donohue who had a great insight in to the human presence. Often times I can think deeply on a subject and then later look to see what John might have had to say about the revelation I uncovered only to find he said what I wanted to see with a prose made of honey and insight. This comes from "To Bless the Space Between Us":
It remains the dream of every life to realize itself, to reach out and lift itself up to greater heights. A life that continues to remain on the safe side of its own habits and repetitions, that never engages with the risk of its own possibility remains an unlived life. There is within each heart a hidden voice that calls out for freedom and creativity. We often linger for years in spaces that are too small and shabby for the grandeur of our spirit. yet experience always remains faithful to us. If lived truthfully and generously, it will always guide us toward the real pastures.
Looking back along life’s journey, you come to see how each of the central phases of your life began at a decisive threshold where you left one way of being and entered another. A threshold where you left one way of being and entered another. A threshold is not simply an accidental line that happens to separate one region from another. It is an intense frontier that divides a world of feeling from another. Often the threshold becomes clearly visible once you have crossed it. Crossing can often mean the total loss of all you enjoyed while on the other side it becomes a dividing live between the past and the future. More often than not the reason you cannot return to where you were is that you have changed, you are no longer the one who crossed over.
How profound is that? We can't return because we were not longer the person who crossed over. I also thing it is true that once we reach the threshold we have changed already, it is why we traveled to that point.
Finally this also from the same book:
For longing ~John O’Donohue
Blessed be the longing that brought you here
And quickens your soul with wonder.
May you have the courage to listen to the voice of desire
That disturbs you when you have settled for something safe.
May you have the wisdom to enter generously into your own unease
To discover the new direction your longing wants you to take.
May the forms of your belonging–in love, creativity, and friendship–
Be equal to the grandeur and the call of your soul.
May the one you long for long for you.
May your dreams gradually reveal the destination of your desire.
May a secret Providence guide your thought and nurture your feeling.
May your mind inhabit your life with the sureness with which your body inhabits the world.
May your heart never be haunted by ghost structures of old damage.
May you come to accept your longing as divine urgency.
May you know the urgency with which God longs for you.
When we bless someone, we activate the holy spirit to come into the presence of the indwelling spirit of both ourselves and those whom we bless.
When we bless, the blessing is gifted back to us and so we all share in the power of the spirit. Thanks be to God.
Tuesday, February 11, 2020
Cobhsaíocht
Isaiah 30:21
And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.
Last week we introduced the spiritual concept of Thresholds. Today it is time to think about transitions, something inevitable when you pass through a thresholds.
When I get home from work, my tendency is to rush around like I am looking for a lost set of keys. On the trip hope I will more likely than not thought out a plan of what I will do and then the minute I step foot out of the vehicle. I walk down to the box to see if there is mail to be picked up. I don't know why I bother, my wife will have picked up the mail when she was home for lunch at least 95 percent of the time and then takes it to work with her rather than bringing it back in the house before she goes back to work. Still, I check, hoping I will be surprised to find the mail is still in the box? Why? I have no idea. It is rare to get anything interesting delivered by post anyway.
After checking the mail, I will gather my bag and whatever else needs to come back in the house. In rapid succession I:
Check out the bird feeders
If the cat does not meet me at the door, I look around to make sure she has gotten locked in somewhere.
I take off my jacket and hang it up.
Going into the bedroom I change from day clothes to after work clothes and then lay out my clothes for the next day.
I refill the CPAP tank and take my evening medication regimen.
The list continues but I think I made the point. I have a routine and it is almost as if I am trying to shave seconds from the time needed as if I were in a race.
This kind of behavior is in direct contrast to one of the basic creeds of Benedictine life which is to move gracefully and with intention from one activity to the other so as to not miss the grace available in the moments of passage. Slow down, I have to sometimes shout at myself, there are no deadlines to be met, only intentions to fulfill.
What intentions? Let's pause for a minute to talk about them.
The Latin word Statio comes from the Rule of St. Benedict and it means to be stable or stationary.. There is work to be done, things that need to be accomplished but the they need to be completed through stable, not rushed or awkward movement. Have you ever watched how Monks file into the choir for prayer liturgies or how a priest moves around in the sanctuary? Slowly. Deliberately. Gracefully. Peacefully. Compare how confident a senior server seems when compared to an edgy nervous youngster in their first months. I have been working 43 years and yet I come home from work like I was shot out of a cannon. For that matter it might be how I come to work as well.
What has statio have to do with Thresholds? When it is time to cross through, it is better to be stable than hurried, deliberate rather hurried, confident rather than frightened.
Ok. There it is again. The fear thing. Thresholds terrify because they are really nothing more than gentle words to describe a change that may or not be gentle. Thresholds of a day tend to be pretty peaceful. Thresholds that led to a change in the direction and character life are not as simple.
I have come to recognize 4 major stages life which are marked with certainty. First is the transition from being at home to going to school. The second stage, school, lasts until the education phase of life is largely complete. The third stage is our vocational life which is really the defining time of our life because it will determine how the fourth and final stage of life will play. I have yet to come up with a good name for the fourth stage. The obvious answer is retirement but is more complex than that. It would be too morbid to think of as the waiting period for before death. With respect to myself, I hope it is an avocational stage when I will be able to do the things I have longed to do in greater measure such as reading, writing, service, teaching, traveling and so on.
As the time to pass through the threshold suddenly looms after a lifetime of anticipation, I find myself being both driven forward by a desire to be done with a career that has never been fulfilling but has been successful, at least in some ways of thinking about it and yet the sheer fear of the unknown of what awaits pushes me back against the relenting winds driving me forward.
I have of late developed the practice of integrating a way of creating a space of grace where I can consider a threshold before either stampeding through hell bent for an outcome or freezing up in fear until the share force of the weight of decision shoves me through.
Here is the list of steps, first in Irish.
Sos
Machnamh
Gui
Gniomhu
Now English
Pause
Reflect
Pray
Act
The hardest part of the process is to actually pause when the momentum of life is shoving you forward. It takes practice and the need to be kind to yourself when you fail to pause first but there is a distinct benefit to making the effort. I have been finding peace and calm when making decisions and my outlook for the future has brightened and is brightening.
When frazzled, spending time in the Wisdom books can be a comfort. Consider this.
Proverbs 3:5-6
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.
And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.
Last week we introduced the spiritual concept of Thresholds. Today it is time to think about transitions, something inevitable when you pass through a thresholds.
When I get home from work, my tendency is to rush around like I am looking for a lost set of keys. On the trip hope I will more likely than not thought out a plan of what I will do and then the minute I step foot out of the vehicle. I walk down to the box to see if there is mail to be picked up. I don't know why I bother, my wife will have picked up the mail when she was home for lunch at least 95 percent of the time and then takes it to work with her rather than bringing it back in the house before she goes back to work. Still, I check, hoping I will be surprised to find the mail is still in the box? Why? I have no idea. It is rare to get anything interesting delivered by post anyway.
After checking the mail, I will gather my bag and whatever else needs to come back in the house. In rapid succession I:
Check out the bird feeders
If the cat does not meet me at the door, I look around to make sure she has gotten locked in somewhere.
I take off my jacket and hang it up.
Going into the bedroom I change from day clothes to after work clothes and then lay out my clothes for the next day.
I refill the CPAP tank and take my evening medication regimen.
The list continues but I think I made the point. I have a routine and it is almost as if I am trying to shave seconds from the time needed as if I were in a race.
This kind of behavior is in direct contrast to one of the basic creeds of Benedictine life which is to move gracefully and with intention from one activity to the other so as to not miss the grace available in the moments of passage. Slow down, I have to sometimes shout at myself, there are no deadlines to be met, only intentions to fulfill.
What intentions? Let's pause for a minute to talk about them.
The Latin word Statio comes from the Rule of St. Benedict and it means to be stable or stationary.. There is work to be done, things that need to be accomplished but the they need to be completed through stable, not rushed or awkward movement. Have you ever watched how Monks file into the choir for prayer liturgies or how a priest moves around in the sanctuary? Slowly. Deliberately. Gracefully. Peacefully. Compare how confident a senior server seems when compared to an edgy nervous youngster in their first months. I have been working 43 years and yet I come home from work like I was shot out of a cannon. For that matter it might be how I come to work as well.
What has statio have to do with Thresholds? When it is time to cross through, it is better to be stable than hurried, deliberate rather hurried, confident rather than frightened.
Ok. There it is again. The fear thing. Thresholds terrify because they are really nothing more than gentle words to describe a change that may or not be gentle. Thresholds of a day tend to be pretty peaceful. Thresholds that led to a change in the direction and character life are not as simple.
I have come to recognize 4 major stages life which are marked with certainty. First is the transition from being at home to going to school. The second stage, school, lasts until the education phase of life is largely complete. The third stage is our vocational life which is really the defining time of our life because it will determine how the fourth and final stage of life will play. I have yet to come up with a good name for the fourth stage. The obvious answer is retirement but is more complex than that. It would be too morbid to think of as the waiting period for before death. With respect to myself, I hope it is an avocational stage when I will be able to do the things I have longed to do in greater measure such as reading, writing, service, teaching, traveling and so on.
As the time to pass through the threshold suddenly looms after a lifetime of anticipation, I find myself being both driven forward by a desire to be done with a career that has never been fulfilling but has been successful, at least in some ways of thinking about it and yet the sheer fear of the unknown of what awaits pushes me back against the relenting winds driving me forward.
I have of late developed the practice of integrating a way of creating a space of grace where I can consider a threshold before either stampeding through hell bent for an outcome or freezing up in fear until the share force of the weight of decision shoves me through.
Here is the list of steps, first in Irish.
Sos
Machnamh
Gui
Gniomhu
Now English
Pause
Reflect
Pray
Act
The hardest part of the process is to actually pause when the momentum of life is shoving you forward. It takes practice and the need to be kind to yourself when you fail to pause first but there is a distinct benefit to making the effort. I have been finding peace and calm when making decisions and my outlook for the future has brightened and is brightening.
When frazzled, spending time in the Wisdom books can be a comfort. Consider this.
Proverbs 3:5-6
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.
Saturday, February 1, 2020
Tairseacha
On a recent January Sunday morning I arose well before the dawn, made a pot of coffee and Lori settled down for our early morning prayer, meditation and contemplation time. She reads random selections from the Bible and I pray the Hours. She then spends some time in meditation, and I engage in the first novice steps of Centering prayer.
I have always been drawn to times of change in the rhythm of the day. During the winter I will pull open the drapes even though it might still be pitch black as though it were in the dead of night. As the hour unfolds, I try to watch the gradual shift from darkness into light. The shift of colors is something watch, and I find myself disappointed some days when there are clouds enough to block the sunrise but not enough to bring out the ambient glow of the early day that come when there is a thick overcast sky.
On this day, there has been a heavy frost even though the temperature had not dropped more than a degree or two below freezing. Hoar frost clung to the myriad of branches of my beloved tree and on all of the other shrubs in my sight around the yard. I thought it curious how the frost seemed to gather light that was still just a promise to come and allowed it to glitter light gray against a dark blue and black backdrop. The sky was jet black which promised a clearing sky by daylight although I could not see stars through the pane glass windows.
I had filled the feeders with peanuts and cubes hoping the corvids might come to visit. Strangely enough they seem to have slowed down the visits to my feeders and when they do come they rarely consume everything except for the loose peanuts I might spread on the ground. As I finished up prayer I noted the dawn had begun to slip in and their flittering shadows zipping and pausing the through the tree limbs. I noticed the feeders were spinning and swinging as if they had been hit by some invisible force. The corvids, crows who have been hit and miss since the onset of winter, ever faithful magpies and my frisky smaller jays materialized out of the dark to literally buzz the feeders. They remained coal black in the predawn light, even the blue jays were still without any other color, not even gray yet. I had never experienced visitors to the feeders before first light but here they were dive bombing the feeders light fighter planes buzzed ships during the war. A constellation of frozen shards and crystals showered down from the tree, knocked loose by the fervent flights of the birds darting through the branches to steal a turn at the feeders.
They continued to fly sorties against the food stores until well after dawn and were still raiding the feeders as we left for church. I felt more at peace than I had for months.
The story and lessons I learned that day are too broad and too deep to convey all at once in once setting so I will break this telling into three parts with just few comments about the direction of journey.
I have long been fascinated by the theology and Spirituality of the Celts and I have become nothing less than a disciple of Irish poet John O'Donohue because of the way his words can awake the unknowable and unseen in a human to suddenly feel a connection with is known and can be seen.
All of life is spent in a threshold where we are caught in perpetual coming and going. No matter where we stand, we are always on the verge of step into what is to become. There is no resting, only brief pauses while we catch our breath and consider where our next foot fall will land. In this year, I am standing threshold of a crucible as I move from a lifelong vocation into the next lands of avocations. Every second there is another hope and the next a fear that is followed by fear and then comfort of something precious to come into play.
Thus says the Lord:
Stand at the crossroads, and look,
And ask for the ancient paths,
Where the go way lies; and walk in it,
And find rest for your souls.
-Jeremiah 6:16
Crossroads are decision points and the pondering of which direction to go places us in a threshold where we not only must choose whether to retreat, remain or proceed forward but to also choose the way we will go forth. It is a near certainty that to be on the threshold means there is no option to turn back nor is there any hope of remaining in place. The winds of life only blow us ahead of themselves and we can never do more than pause until we are too exhausted to resist and have to the forces of life push us onward.
Jeremiah, speaking to the ancient Hebrews warned to stand in the threshold and consider carefully which way to go. What are the ancient paths? We can look to our faith history and understand what they are and where to find them. Don’t choose as Cain did and throw himself down a road of betrayal. Choose as David did, seek forgiveness and for the wisdom to make right decisions. The message to us is to choose the path the Lord has planned for us. The trip will be far simpler but not always easy.
Take this passage and make of it a personal Lectio Divina this week. What is God trying to teach you as you study the versus? Don’t just take what I have said as being the full truth for that is a cape you must make for yourself.
My blessing this week? May you find rest for your soul.
I have always been drawn to times of change in the rhythm of the day. During the winter I will pull open the drapes even though it might still be pitch black as though it were in the dead of night. As the hour unfolds, I try to watch the gradual shift from darkness into light. The shift of colors is something watch, and I find myself disappointed some days when there are clouds enough to block the sunrise but not enough to bring out the ambient glow of the early day that come when there is a thick overcast sky.
On this day, there has been a heavy frost even though the temperature had not dropped more than a degree or two below freezing. Hoar frost clung to the myriad of branches of my beloved tree and on all of the other shrubs in my sight around the yard. I thought it curious how the frost seemed to gather light that was still just a promise to come and allowed it to glitter light gray against a dark blue and black backdrop. The sky was jet black which promised a clearing sky by daylight although I could not see stars through the pane glass windows.
I had filled the feeders with peanuts and cubes hoping the corvids might come to visit. Strangely enough they seem to have slowed down the visits to my feeders and when they do come they rarely consume everything except for the loose peanuts I might spread on the ground. As I finished up prayer I noted the dawn had begun to slip in and their flittering shadows zipping and pausing the through the tree limbs. I noticed the feeders were spinning and swinging as if they had been hit by some invisible force. The corvids, crows who have been hit and miss since the onset of winter, ever faithful magpies and my frisky smaller jays materialized out of the dark to literally buzz the feeders. They remained coal black in the predawn light, even the blue jays were still without any other color, not even gray yet. I had never experienced visitors to the feeders before first light but here they were dive bombing the feeders light fighter planes buzzed ships during the war. A constellation of frozen shards and crystals showered down from the tree, knocked loose by the fervent flights of the birds darting through the branches to steal a turn at the feeders.
They continued to fly sorties against the food stores until well after dawn and were still raiding the feeders as we left for church. I felt more at peace than I had for months.
The story and lessons I learned that day are too broad and too deep to convey all at once in once setting so I will break this telling into three parts with just few comments about the direction of journey.
I have long been fascinated by the theology and Spirituality of the Celts and I have become nothing less than a disciple of Irish poet John O'Donohue because of the way his words can awake the unknowable and unseen in a human to suddenly feel a connection with is known and can be seen.
All of life is spent in a threshold where we are caught in perpetual coming and going. No matter where we stand, we are always on the verge of step into what is to become. There is no resting, only brief pauses while we catch our breath and consider where our next foot fall will land. In this year, I am standing threshold of a crucible as I move from a lifelong vocation into the next lands of avocations. Every second there is another hope and the next a fear that is followed by fear and then comfort of something precious to come into play.
Thus says the Lord:
Stand at the crossroads, and look,
And ask for the ancient paths,
Where the go way lies; and walk in it,
And find rest for your souls.
-Jeremiah 6:16
Crossroads are decision points and the pondering of which direction to go places us in a threshold where we not only must choose whether to retreat, remain or proceed forward but to also choose the way we will go forth. It is a near certainty that to be on the threshold means there is no option to turn back nor is there any hope of remaining in place. The winds of life only blow us ahead of themselves and we can never do more than pause until we are too exhausted to resist and have to the forces of life push us onward.
Jeremiah, speaking to the ancient Hebrews warned to stand in the threshold and consider carefully which way to go. What are the ancient paths? We can look to our faith history and understand what they are and where to find them. Don’t choose as Cain did and throw himself down a road of betrayal. Choose as David did, seek forgiveness and for the wisdom to make right decisions. The message to us is to choose the path the Lord has planned for us. The trip will be far simpler but not always easy.
Take this passage and make of it a personal Lectio Divina this week. What is God trying to teach you as you study the versus? Don’t just take what I have said as being the full truth for that is a cape you must make for yourself.
My blessing this week? May you find rest for your soul.
Tuesday, January 21, 2020
Who Is Your Goliath?
David spoke to Saul:
“Let your majesty not lose courage. I am at your service to go and fight this Philistine.” But Saul answered David, “You cannot go up against this Philistine and fight with him, for you are only a youth, while he has been a warrior from his youth.” David continued: “The LORD, who delivered me from the claws of the lion and the bear, will also keep me safe from the clutches of this Philistine.” Saul answered David, “Go! the LORD will be with you.” Then, staff in hand, David selected five smooth stones from the wadi and put them in the pocket of his shepherd’s bag. With his sling also ready to hand, he approached the Philistine. With his shield bearer marching before him, the Philistine also advanced closer and closer to David. When he had sized David up, and seen that he was youthful, and ruddy, and handsome in appearance, the Philistine held David in contempt. The Philistine said to David, “Am I a dog that you come against me with a staff? Then the Philistine cursed David by his gods and said to him, “Come here to me, and I will leave your flesh for the birds of the air and the beasts of the field.” David answered him: “You come against me with sword and spear and scimitar, but I come against you in the name of the LORD of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel that you have insulted. Today the LORD shall deliver you into my hand; I will strike you down and cut off your head. This very day I will leave your corpse and the corpses of the Philistine army for the birds of the air and the beasts of the field; thus the whole land shall learn that Israel has a God. All this multitude, too, shall learn that it is not by sword or spear that the LORD saves. For the battle is the LORD’s and he shall deliver you into our hands.” The Philistine then moved to meet David at close quarters, while David ran quickly toward the battle line in the direction of the Philistine. David put his hand into the bag and took out a stone, hurled it with the sling, and struck the Philistine on the forehead. The stone embedded itself in his brow, and he fell prostrate on the ground. Thus David overcame the Philistine with sling and stone; he struck the Philistine mortally, and did it without a sword. Then David ran and stood over him; with the Philistine’s own sword which he drew from its sheath he dispatched him and cut off his head.
Hmmm. Familiar story, I should say. Who did not know how this was going to end? Of course this one of stories from the Hebrew Testament that is more cultural than religious. We see references to underdogs taking on overwhelming odds only to come out on top because of the righteousness of their cause every day. Marvel Comics is based upon that very idea. With faith and a stone, good will trump evil. One of the fun things about growing Methodist was the opportunity to go to Sunday School on a weekly basis. By the age of 10 I was well steeped in the stories from the Hebrew testament. Moses in the basket saved by the princess. Joshua blowing the horn and walls of Jericho fell down. Samson and Delilah, it looked grim for a second and then he pulled to walls down to smite the bad guys. Noah and the Ark. Let's be honest here. The Hebrew Testament makes for pretty interesting reading if you don't give a hoot about the faith lessons they are intended to be rather than historical records.
The rub, however, is we know that the good guy with bravery up the wazoo and absolute conviction in his values which propels into the breech does not always win. Sometimes bad guys take the day. If we look first at Goliath, consider how many lives he took in previous battles with the Hebrews. There was a history of confrontation in which the hero's were struck down by the dozens. Think of the Charge of Light Brigade. How about the Alamo? As long as we are in Israel, how about Masada? There is more recent example that I keep thinking about where the success of one righteous man would have changed the course of History. In July 1944, Claus Von Stauffenberg had a grand idea about ending the war. He would carry a bomb in a briefcase into a meeting with Hitler and then kill Hitler with the bomb. The plot was nearly perfect except Hitler sat on the other side of pillar from the bomb and was protected from the blast. Just think of the lives that would have been saved both on and off the battlefield and in the camps. Von Stauffenberg was convinced the war was going to be lost because of the successful landing at Normandy and he wanted to save Germany the protracted destruction he knew was going to continue. Hitler lived. The war continued and nearly 5 thousand were executed for real or imagined participation in the conspiracy.
What does this all mean for us today? To not rely on faith when it is time to confront something evil or destructed to your well being? Of course not. After all, the good guys eventually won the war and put Hitler and his gang in the ground, except for the ones who got a way to live out their lives as janitors in places like Winnetka Illinois.
Our battles are not just about politics, power, riches or influence. They are about who we are as people, how we see the world and interact with others all while trying to operate under the expectation we honor the will of God and to live in accordance with his plans for us.
Coming back around to David and Goliath, there is something for us to learn today. We are all locked in combat just as David was with Goliath. Our very spiritual existence is at stake. As one who is plagued by fear, I need to carefully some rocks for spiritual warfare and prepare to hit the enemy head on. I have a Goliath to engage, confront and overcome. My Goliath wells up from inside me. He is me, he is my ego. The rocks are tools I need to protect the person I wish to become from the person whom I might become if my aim is not true.
A hallmark of RSD (rejection sympathetic dysmorphia) is the speed with which the symptoms can strike. One minute I am bebopping along and the next I will have been engulfed with negative emotions because somehow my fragile self esteem took a hit. In recent months I learned that humility is the bag that holds the weapons I need to defend myself and those I love from the baseless reactions that can redefine a day that was good into a day of conflict.
I have a bucket of rocks to sling at Goliath and some days I bonk with more that other times the stones just sail by him. The point is there is not just one grand defining moment when Goliath takes it in the forehead, goes down and the battle is over. Every morning, Goliath gets back to his feet before I can get close enough to end the struggle forever. Every day I have to drag the bucket of stones up to confront him and have the courage to make the first throw. That first throw, however, can be overwhelming and can require effort that I can muster. The problem, you see, is I have to want to take on my ego, to knock him down so I can prevail even just for a moment. The problem is harder than you think. Sometimes is just to easy and familiar to wallow in the anger and hurt than it is to take the Herculean first step toward recovery. On those days Goliath wins and what is lost is not just my attitude but my relationships with people who are beyond measure in value to me are hurt as well.
If I can just make up my mind and gin up my courage to take a look at the hurt to see if it is real, the image of Goliath fades and the sound of his taunts becomes lost in the breeze of the spirit. This imagery came to me at Mass this past Sunday. When the time for Eucharist arrived, I realized that the bad guys have already lost because of the surrender of life offered by Jesus. In the end, good will prevail. Today, however, evil still has power over us on an individual basis just as Goliath clearly had the advantage over David. We can lose battles but with faith we will never lose the war. We will overcome if we believe we will. That what God wants for us and it should be what we want for each other.
As we close, I offer this question for you to ponder. Who is your Goliath?
Monday, January 13, 2020
From Where I Stand - Looking Back on the Reboot
In two days time I will be 14 months out from what I called a "reboot" and I will also be 12 years out since I was reborn with a second chance at life.
When I "rebooted" a year ago, I cataloged a long list of things I wanted to cultivate. The results, as I look back over the year are mixed. Some changes have taken and have been a success. I have broken or, at least, weakened my attachment to things. The need to consume, to acquire or to buy has diminished to a mere shadow of the past. It is not completely banished, there is more to be done, but, if anything, the desire for material things is continuing to shrink. Good.
As I read over my journal entries, I see noble and well considered intentions to make wholesale changes to be a better man, husband, father, friend and so on but what I don't see is any intention to put all these things to God and to give God input into what he wanted me to become. The problem is I was focused on labels, names that people can call me that point to me being a good, honorable and God fearing man. I was completely focused on externals, on how the world sees me but not how I see myself when I ask the question, God what is your will for me. My false self was still in charge even though my true self was kicking at the door to escape and grow into what I was meant to be.
The year has been both awesome and awful. The arrival of Jane marks the high point and a new leaving off place as we, Lori and I, think and marvel into our future.
It has been an awful year for my ego but I have to add the mistreatment my ego encountered has been long overdue. It is time for that miserable thorn in my side to be vanquished. I have seen in dramatic clarity the havoc the false self I mistakenly nourished has caused. A I result I have embraced an immense amount of pain, sorrow and regret but I am slowly coming to understand while the misery is real because the things damaged are not real but are simply constructs by mind of a small boy who was only attempting to frame a sense of understanding of the world and his part in it.
How curious it is that an imagined hurt suffered by an imagined belief about myself can be so persistently painful for so long and lingers on after the false self has been found to be a traitor and enemy of the true self.
As I look back over the years since I came in from the dark, it is readily clear this past year has been the most, hmm, what is the right word? Actually there might not be a word but it will take several. Much has been revealed. More has been learned. Even more has been experienced.
Let's see. I found myself experiencing a real crises of identity. After a lifetime of being willing to step to be a leader and suddenly found myself questioning why I was motivated to seek something that often ended up making me miserable because of the stress caused by a mismatch of ability and demands. When you see yourself as a leader, a manager or a motivator, it is hard to recognize who is looking back at me in the mirror now that I am no longer in that role. What's more, I found myself questioning what I what to be a part of much less being a leader in that thing whether it is at work, in the church or elsewhere.
I acquired some new labels. ADD and RSD. We now understand that things like ADD are not black and white but fall on a spectrum. I clearly have some things that fall on the spectrum but RSD also seems to be something that as a spectrum. RSD? Rejection Sympathetic Dysmorphia. In layman's terms, I am overly sensitive and "get my feelings hurt too easily." What should either be so minimal as to not register can flare me up into a major hurt and I either withdraw as far as I can get or lash out at someone, usually my wife but sometimes at co-workers or family. When it happens, it happens just a when a balloon bursts or a gunshot goes off. The lag time between trigger and response is so fast that I can't even see it coming. I don't even have a needle in my fingers or a gun in my hand when I trigger yet the force of the blast can be bewildering.
I learned some other things. I am an Enneagram type 6 which means I was born to live in fear and anxiety about virtually aspect of life. I wake up in the morning like an antelope on the prairie and within seconds I am often in full fight/flight mode so I have to wonder if it is time to start running or just put my head down and use my horns to take on whatever might be threatening me. The trouble is there is nothing real to fight or even to run from and it hard to respond to a figment of my imagination.
Also, it was revealed that I am an MBTI ISFJ. There are lots of good things about ISFJ and Type 6 but a common theme is that I am sensitive to push back, confrontation and criticism. Nothing revealed was particularly surprising even though several common areas all validate who I am and how I react to the world.
The reality, however, is that as interesting as of these discoveries might be, they really don't matter. If I have thoroughly understood the overarching message, my personality is just that, personality. What does matter is how well I can develop the skill to separate external factors which I might think impact my ego or self-esteem. The notion that what other people think of me is, bluntly, none of business. The only thing that matters is the opinion of God and the fact he loves all of us unconditionally has been pounded into my head on a daily basis for at least the year and on a frequent basis for the preceding decades back to when I reached the age of reason, whatever that is.
The hardest message for me to accept in the AA big book is the statement that if am disturbed, not matter the reason, the problem is with me but not anything or anyone else. It is not that I spend the day being vigilant for slights or insults, but there is nothing I like more than to feel entitled to good old fashioned self-righteous anger if I have been wronged. My default is to seek to always be right. After all if I am not right, I must be wrong and what use am I if I am wrong. My whole sense of worth is balanced on that narrow, wobbly rail and I tend to fall off of it more than I can stay balanced on it. One peculiar aspect of a relationship I have a with a co-worker is she gets no value out of me if I am right because being right robs her of the ability to tease me, something that we both like, as confounding a notion as that might be.
The need to be right is not good for any relationship, however, when all focus is on focus is on being right instead of being motivated to do the right thing. Being right and doing the right thing are not always lined up. In fact they can be mutually exclusive if I lose sight of the fact that the most important response to anything is to first be kind. I consider myself to be a kind person but being right can pervert that impulse as quickly as striking a match.
When I "rebooted" a year ago, I cataloged a long list of things I wanted to cultivate. The results, as I look back over the year are mixed. Some changes have taken and have been a success. I have broken or, at least, weakened my attachment to things. The need to consume, to acquire or to buy has diminished to a mere shadow of the past. It is not completely banished, there is more to be done, but, if anything, the desire for material things is continuing to shrink. Good.
As I read over my journal entries, I see noble and well considered intentions to make wholesale changes to be a better man, husband, father, friend and so on but what I don't see is any intention to put all these things to God and to give God input into what he wanted me to become. The problem is I was focused on labels, names that people can call me that point to me being a good, honorable and God fearing man. I was completely focused on externals, on how the world sees me but not how I see myself when I ask the question, God what is your will for me. My false self was still in charge even though my true self was kicking at the door to escape and grow into what I was meant to be.
The year has been both awesome and awful. The arrival of Jane marks the high point and a new leaving off place as we, Lori and I, think and marvel into our future.
It has been an awful year for my ego but I have to add the mistreatment my ego encountered has been long overdue. It is time for that miserable thorn in my side to be vanquished. I have seen in dramatic clarity the havoc the false self I mistakenly nourished has caused. A I result I have embraced an immense amount of pain, sorrow and regret but I am slowly coming to understand while the misery is real because the things damaged are not real but are simply constructs by mind of a small boy who was only attempting to frame a sense of understanding of the world and his part in it.
How curious it is that an imagined hurt suffered by an imagined belief about myself can be so persistently painful for so long and lingers on after the false self has been found to be a traitor and enemy of the true self.
As I look back over the years since I came in from the dark, it is readily clear this past year has been the most, hmm, what is the right word? Actually there might not be a word but it will take several. Much has been revealed. More has been learned. Even more has been experienced.
Let's see. I found myself experiencing a real crises of identity. After a lifetime of being willing to step to be a leader and suddenly found myself questioning why I was motivated to seek something that often ended up making me miserable because of the stress caused by a mismatch of ability and demands. When you see yourself as a leader, a manager or a motivator, it is hard to recognize who is looking back at me in the mirror now that I am no longer in that role. What's more, I found myself questioning what I what to be a part of much less being a leader in that thing whether it is at work, in the church or elsewhere.
I acquired some new labels. ADD and RSD. We now understand that things like ADD are not black and white but fall on a spectrum. I clearly have some things that fall on the spectrum but RSD also seems to be something that as a spectrum. RSD? Rejection Sympathetic Dysmorphia. In layman's terms, I am overly sensitive and "get my feelings hurt too easily." What should either be so minimal as to not register can flare me up into a major hurt and I either withdraw as far as I can get or lash out at someone, usually my wife but sometimes at co-workers or family. When it happens, it happens just a when a balloon bursts or a gunshot goes off. The lag time between trigger and response is so fast that I can't even see it coming. I don't even have a needle in my fingers or a gun in my hand when I trigger yet the force of the blast can be bewildering.
I learned some other things. I am an Enneagram type 6 which means I was born to live in fear and anxiety about virtually aspect of life. I wake up in the morning like an antelope on the prairie and within seconds I am often in full fight/flight mode so I have to wonder if it is time to start running or just put my head down and use my horns to take on whatever might be threatening me. The trouble is there is nothing real to fight or even to run from and it hard to respond to a figment of my imagination.
Also, it was revealed that I am an MBTI ISFJ. There are lots of good things about ISFJ and Type 6 but a common theme is that I am sensitive to push back, confrontation and criticism. Nothing revealed was particularly surprising even though several common areas all validate who I am and how I react to the world.
The reality, however, is that as interesting as of these discoveries might be, they really don't matter. If I have thoroughly understood the overarching message, my personality is just that, personality. What does matter is how well I can develop the skill to separate external factors which I might think impact my ego or self-esteem. The notion that what other people think of me is, bluntly, none of business. The only thing that matters is the opinion of God and the fact he loves all of us unconditionally has been pounded into my head on a daily basis for at least the year and on a frequent basis for the preceding decades back to when I reached the age of reason, whatever that is.
The hardest message for me to accept in the AA big book is the statement that if am disturbed, not matter the reason, the problem is with me but not anything or anyone else. It is not that I spend the day being vigilant for slights or insults, but there is nothing I like more than to feel entitled to good old fashioned self-righteous anger if I have been wronged. My default is to seek to always be right. After all if I am not right, I must be wrong and what use am I if I am wrong. My whole sense of worth is balanced on that narrow, wobbly rail and I tend to fall off of it more than I can stay balanced on it. One peculiar aspect of a relationship I have a with a co-worker is she gets no value out of me if I am right because being right robs her of the ability to tease me, something that we both like, as confounding a notion as that might be.
The need to be right is not good for any relationship, however, when all focus is on focus is on being right instead of being motivated to do the right thing. Being right and doing the right thing are not always lined up. In fact they can be mutually exclusive if I lose sight of the fact that the most important response to anything is to first be kind. I consider myself to be a kind person but being right can pervert that impulse as quickly as striking a match.
The thing about the reboot is that no ground once taken remains forever taken. At any minute of any day, the ground can be to slide like sand turned to slurry by a sudden storm. About the time I decide to say I am just going to sit here for a while and watch the clouds float by, I get hit but an unexpected rain that sends me scurrying for cover while cursing the heavens. This is not a good program for happiness.
Still, if I were to have to offer a definitive response to the question of whether I am better off today than I was 14 months ago my swift and unswerving answer is yes. Without the silly uproar created by a dramatic plan to reboot the reboot, I intend to keep growing. I have to. The alternative might levy a cost I can't bear to cover. No might here. The alternative would separate me from what I hold most dear.
Today was not so good. Neither was yesterday nor the day before but none of them bear resemblance to the misery of only 14 months ago. Tomorrow will be better but if not tomorrow than one day this week and we will be off in the right direction again.
Advent Week Four
Even so, we are just now taking a breath with the first week of Ordinary times so this whole discussion might feel anticlimactic. When we realize that Lent is steaming in on us in just another 6 weeks, we might even further consider it is too late to take up this topic. Too bad. We are going to take it up anyway.
Why? The message of love we hear at Christmas is timeless and eternal but how we understand love changed completely with the birth of Jesus. The Hebrew people preached, lived and believed the God of Abraham, Isaac and Moses was a God who loved beyond all measure but it was a love of God for his people. There was missing part for us, the thing that makes God's love personal for us. In the person and divinity of Jesus, we as humans can relate to the nature of God even if it is far beyond our ability to understand.
The thing that has always puzzled me is how Jesus taught us to love. Yes, he told us to love on another. He challenged us to love God and devote ourselves completely to Gospel. What brought the message of love home, however, is found as much in what he did as what he said. In the miracles we saw the love expressed in a way that made it real. Even if we can dismiss the miracles as being something reserved for the divine, look how he related to the Samaritan woman. What keeps us from offering the same message of love? How about when he simply said, let the one without sin cast the first stone? How about the exchange with woman at the table when she requested he look past her foreign status.
Love is not a noun or a passive verb, it is an action word. To love means to act in a way that wills the good of another as Thomas Aquinas taught. I have been educated recently about how the service that flows from love really works. It is not just about feeding the poor or caring for the sick. For me it is much more close up and personal. I work in a job where I communicate with people who have been injured on the job. Instead of just robotically delivering a product or doing my job by rote, I can remind myself of the humanity of every single person I come into contact every hour of the day and that no matter the circumstances, I can do my job with love even if the message I have to communicate is not what the listener wants to here. I can treat my co-workers with love and charity, giving them of what I have which is sometimes more than I can begin to imagine is inside me to share
This causes me to reflect back over the past 40 years. Have I always acted with love guiding my actions? Hardly. That is not to say I have continually failed to be kind and understanding but sometimes the people who needed it most from me where the same ones I was most reluctant to treat with kindness and empathy.
In recent months, we have been hitting this spirituality thing pretty hard and we have dealt with difficult and complex emotions and relationships. Let's face it, I have been hitting myself and the rest of you with a hammer on weekly basis trying to understand the nature of fear, faith and trust which should all be centered on the Lord and not on our own weaknesses and insecurities. Also, humility has been a recurring theme I have been jabbing myself and the rest of us in the ribs about on a weekly basis. While we have to be ever mindful of our nature, we also need to look beyond the narrow confines of ourselves and look to the rewards we have for being believers with faith and trust.
In looking back over the Advent and Christmas season, I am filled with something I can only call wonder. Not wonder as I wonder but wonder as in awe. There are no boundaries to wonder, we can just let ourselves go and trust that it ok to just open our eyes and hearts and take it all in. The decorations, the music, the gatherings, the giving and receiving and the amazement we have at what happened 2000 years ago when the word was made flesh and God become incarnate in our world. Wonder creates room for gladness, appreciation, gratitude and a renewed faith in ourselves, the world, our place in the world and the Trinitarian God is in and through it all.
Wonder is one of the greatest gifts of God given us because of his love for us. He did not have to create beauty when function is all matters for the world to go around and around. He did not have to give us the ability to appreciate beauty but he did. In coming weeks we will come back to wonder from time to time as way of reminding us to just be sometimes because when we do that, we will always be in his presence.
Today, look up at the sky. Take note of the clouds and watch them for a moment so you might hear the song they are singing to you. Wonder and beauty. We can trust in God for those these things.
Next week we will move to the next step of wonder when we look at the 4 elements of creation in Celtic Spirituality.
Now I am going to give you all some homework. Take the sheet of paper I am passing out and write this down:
I experienced the wonder of God last week when I (fill in the blank)
Oh, and I also want you to work Love into your observation.
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