Following the Way. Practicing the Way

Mark 9:38-40

 

John said to Jesus,

“Teacher, we saw someone driving out demons in your name, and we tried to prevent him because he does not follow us.” Jesus replied, “Do not prevent him. There is no one who performs a mighty deed in my name who can at the same time speak ill of me. For whoever is not against us is for us.”

 We are a month out from spring, yet this morning dawned on a river cutting through rock the same as it does every day but with a cold mist of fog rising from the waters into unsettled 8-degree air. The Bitterroot Valley is a place of relative, calm, fierce winds not attended by a storm are rare so to have unleafed trees bending from a 20 mile per hour east wind was a surprise. I was hunkered down in an open spot in the willows to find respite from the wind. Shelf ice has reformed since the deep freeze began again Sunday and so I watched the waters flow under the ice shelf after piling shush up against the ice ledge. The sound was cold. There is no other sound like ice slush on running waters. Even watching a video in the warmth of my study causes me to sense a shudder of chill shivering down my spine. Now, however, hearing the river run and feeling the bite of the wind without the radiant warmth of still hidden sun, I was deeply chilled dressed even as I was to ward off the cold. I would not spend much time rolling the gospel around in my mind and heart to see what might be revealed but I spent long enough. What was revealed, however, was not challenging, comforting, or inspiring. Instead, sadness and disquiet settled deep within me, and it kept company with the cold until the cold yielded to the warmth of my home.

 

Why I am discomforted by the gospel today. It seems straightforward enough. The more I considered my unrest the more I realized it points to my future and those with whom I will struggle to follow the way. More precisely, those with whom I practice the way. Do you know what I mean? Before Christians were called Christians, they called themselves "followers of the way."  The way of Jesus. I have shared with you over the past years and last year in particular. I have loved every step I have taken with you for the past 12 years. It is comfortable for me, easy because of our history. Like the disciples, we have become "us" but, like the disciples, I have seen demons being driven out by others who do not "follow us". You know, Protestants. Non-Catholics. Curiously enough even some agnostics.

 

I like being Catholic. I love our liturgy and the majesty of 2000 years of revelation provided us by the magisterium. I am proud of the fact the bible is the product of our church and that our church is not just a product of the bible. There is so much more. I love being a Benedictine and I have been able to increasingly been able to integrate the rule of Benedict into my rule of life. I love being able to practice advanced theological and scriptural reflection with others who appreciate, understand, and who have sought the wisdom revealed through me. Not by me, THROUGH me. Now I am being called to move out to serve those "someone(s)" who are driving out demons in his name. They need love, support, prayer and to be offered the gift of my charisms. They need the gifts of spiritual and physical nourishment and blessings of the sabbath. They have invited me to follow with them. After prayer and guidance from spiritual mentors and my spiritual director at the abbey, I must accept their requests. I have begun teaching the gospel and offering direction and mentoring to church leaders who are both Catholic and Protestant. It would take me hours to explain how all the things that have come together now all blend into one way, His way. I am not leaving the Cursillo/Journey movement or the church because all that I do will be pointed toward evangelization I hope will lead some to the Catholic faith but overall, I want to contribute to building his church.

 

Again, the question of why I am feeling sad and unsettled needs more explanation. Simple. I don't like change. I like being secure. I like doing things the uncomplicated way. I would rather zoom it in Wednesday mornings but….

 

I will be tutoring an in-person and zoom-based group of unchurched but still fervent believers. Pray for me as I will pray for you.

  

The Lord’s vóice resóunding on the wáters

 

Tá glór an Tiarna ar an uisce, tá Dia na glóire ag toirneach:tá an Tiarna os cionn na n-uiscí móra. Tá glór an Tiarna go cumasach: tá glór an Tiarna go maorga.

The Lord’s vóice resóunding on the wáters, the Lórd on the imménsity of wáters;

the vóice of the Lórd, full of pówer, the vóice of the Lórd, full of spléndour.

If you have known me more than a minute you know I have always been drawn to rivers. I have come to believe and accept my love of fishing is centered in my need, desire and drive to be on, near or in moving water. What I have also come to embrace is that in my deepest of deeps, all rivers lead to the sea, the alpha and omega of earth. To be here were the waters, the lands, and the air all meet is to find a place of infinity reflective of the infiniteness of the creator.

This place of meeting is not where I live but it is, in a sense, where I am always headed when I step into the currents of a place far upstream from here. I am not home here even though it is home. Where waves hit rocks and spray flies into the air is where I see eternity at work in a way I recognize even if I don’t yet understand.

The rocks define where the waters end yet the water defeats the rock over time. Water drops fly into the air and merge into the air as vapor only to inevitably fall back to earth, here or somewhere further east carried by the wind. To be where time immemorial meets time eternal is to enter into mystery. The meeting of water, land and air is always the same but is never the same but there is deep comfort in the unknowing.

How can there not be a God who creates, sustains, and loves us enough to gift with a sense of imagination and wonder? Even if you do not believe, just allow yourself to be open to the beauty of creation and just enter into wonder about the wonder.

Christmas - 2021

 John 1:1-5, 9-14

In the beginning, was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came to be through him, and without him, nothing came to be. What came to be through him was life, and this life was the light of the human race; the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world came to be through him, but the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, but his own people did not accept him. But to those who did accept him, he gave power to become children of God, to those who believe in his name, who were born not by natural generation nor by human choice nor by a man’s decision but of God. And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us, and we saw his glory, the glory as of the Father’s only Son full of grace and truth.

 Understanding what is meant by “Word” is the first challenge for us. We think of "Word" as being a noun, an inanimate thing that rests in whatever place we position. We also tend to think of "love" as being a simple emotion or "abide" as a place of rest. When we think of God, however, all things are in motion and require energy to fulfill God's intention. To understand this amazing, mystifying and incredible passage we first come to understand God used "Word" to bring all things into being. 

God said, “Let there be light” and light appeared, light that can never be extinguished. I love the imagery “word” evokes. We communicate by words, we create with words, we express ourselves with words. Words can be wasted or dangerous but the word of God is never less than a complete mission and redemption for us. We believe in the word because the word believed in us first and created us to love the word. The word loved us first, last, and always. "Word" is not a noun it is a verb.

In the past week, we heard Father Shea use words to tell the story of Deacon Dick. His words created a vision that consoled our sadness and pointed us toward consolation 

I have often sat in the quiet during the Christmas season just gazing at our Christmas tree and whatever decorations we have put up that year. In my imagination, the many lights on our tree and those shining around the quaint English village we set up come to represent all of the people of my life who have shared the season with me. Often memories of Christmas’s past come to mind and the memories reflect the richness of my life. I hear Mary Kay Huber sing an incredible rendition of “O Holy Night” during the Christmas Eve service at the First Methodist church in Anaconda while the congregation sang along with her while raising and lowering a hundred candles which threw dazzling shadows around the walls and ceiling of the church. The memories pull at my heart 60 years later.

The lights bring back the words I spoke to baptize a baby named John we gave back to God 40 years ago this past week. I also see the lights shining in the eyes of my sons as they delighted with the first illumination of the tree 30 years ago.

We read and hear these words: What came to be through him was life, and this life was the light of the human race; the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

Our Christmas lights dazzle and sparkle and bring us enjoyment but they are nothing compared to the light of Christ which first appeared with his incarnation. What amazes me is the light was always there, always shining in the darkness but we could not see the light until the words were spoken by Mary, “Let it be as you intend” allowed the word to become flesh. This is what revealed the light to us. It happened through the power of the Word.

Our very existence, our joy for the day and all days, our hope and consolation for the future exist in, through, and out of the Word. 

Credo verbum.

Creidim an focal.

I believe the word.

Fourth Sunday of Advent - Peace

Luke 1:39-45

Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the infant leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, cried out in a loud voice and said,

“Blessed are you among women,

and blessed is the fruit of your womb.

And how does this happen to me,

that the mother of my Lord should come to me?

For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears,

the infant in my womb leaped for joy.

Blessed are you who believed

that what was spoken to you by the Lord

would be fulfilled.”

I am always grateful for the iconic recitation of this passage in A Charlie Brown Christmas. It reminds us to join the chorus of praise that those shepherds of old heard, “Glory to God in the Highest and on earth peace among men with whom he is pleased.” (Lk 2:14). That the essential Christmas message is given from the most unlikely, and yet wisest, character of the show should not be lost on us. In his humility, clutching at his blue security blanket, Linus sees what no one else could and tells us what Christmas is all about.

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shined”

Isaiah 9:2

As I write this, I anticipate that peace and joy is not the feeling our nation or world will be feeling as we roll up on the 4th Sunday of Advent, the last Sunday before Christmas. Snow is falling softly in fluttering quarter-sized flakes and the world outside has become blanketed with a few inches of white, fluffy snow. A currier and Ives portrait has been etched on the landscape outside my window. If I was to imagine what world gifted with Christmas peace, what would be imagined would be what I can see. A storybook Christmas scene, snow falling on barren cottonwoods and frosted pine trees. I love what I can see and I ache to hold on to the image and never let go. The world, however, will not allow the peace I see to linger. I am struck with the truth the peace I see is not what Christmas peace is all about anyway. Peace is not about what we can see, it is about what is in our hearts.

When Christmas comes, we will undoubtedly still be roiling from this long and arduous year, which has drawn us down into an abyss. The “results” of the election will still divide further our nation, families, communities, and parishes. The plague of COVID-19 and all the restrictions this pandemonium of fear has imposed will still be crushing to the spirit, to put it mildly. How will we find the peace we are promised? Where can we find peace when relationships are being ruptured by the debate over vaccinations?

The peace we expect to come with Christmas is elusive this year, perhaps even more so than usual as sorrow darkens our thoughts. The loss of our beloved Deacon brings sadness as we think first about all of the ways he loved and impacted us. Through the sadness, though, comes some first glimpses of peace as the promise of the incarnation reminds us death is just an illusion, and belief brings peace that leads to joy consolation. He has gone home. He is at peace. We rejoice for him but we still need to wipe the tears of today away to let peace find its way to us.

Where is peace? We are called to reject fear and to rejoice because the Prince of Peace is born again. Out of unseen places he appears. Christ has come and He remains with us through it all. The beauty of our faith is that we do not need to succumb to the anxiety our world generates. Sorrow need not be our legacy.

Rather, we can remain fixed upon that great luminary of the night sky that portends God’s victory over every evil that afflicts us. Liturgy declares in the ‘O antiphon’ for the day: “O radiant dawn, sun of justice: come and shine on those who dwell in darkness and in the shadow of death.”

This antiphon reminds me of one of my favorite scenes from the Lord of the Rings. As Samwise Gamgee and Frodo Baggins are making their way to Mount Doom, across the sickened and dark plains of Mordor, Sam sees a “white star twinkle for a while” in the dim and pale night sky. “The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end, the Shadow was only a small passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.”

Advent reminds us that we are born up by a star in the night sky. Hope is the virtue God gives to endure the trials of this life here, below the heavens, with certainty that the Prince of Peace will prevail as His light pierces the darkness. Christmas reminds us that our hope is not in vain. Christ did come, and he will come again when the time is right. In fact, the Lord is never late; he shows up precisely when he means to. This Christmas will be no different. Peace comes from the prince who teaches us Joy and life eternal will come. We believe it.

Third Sunday Advent - Joy 2021

Luke 3:10-18

The crowds asked John the Baptist, “What should we do?” He said to them in reply,
“Whoever has two cloaks should share with the person who has none. And whoever has food should do likewise.” Even tax collectors came to be baptized and they said to him,

“Teacher, what should we do?” He answered them, “Stop collecting more than what is prescribed.” Soldiers also asked him, “And what is it that we should do?” He told them,

“Do not practice extortion, do not falsely accuse anyone, and be satisfied with your wages.” Now the people were filled with expectation, and all were asking in their hearts
whether John might be the Christ. John answered them all, saying,

“I am baptizing you with water, but one mightier than I is coming. 

I am not worthy to loosen the thongs of his sandals.

He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.

His winnowing fan is in his hand to clear his threshing floor

and to gather the wheat into his barn, 

but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

Exhorting them in many other ways, he preached good news to the people.

Dominica Gaudii – Sunday of Joy

Again we have the challenge of looking at the gospel to find a message of joy to connect the word of God to the theme of the day. In this passage John offers a simple prescription for living. As Thomas Aquinas would say more than a 1000 years later after John preached to the locals, the second coat in your closet is not yours so give it away. It belongs to poor. Hmmm, I think we need to talk about that. Maybe my second hunting coat or my second fishing coat but not all of them besides the first one. I digress.

Should we expect joy from living honestly as challenged John or should the knowledge of having done the next right thing be enough reward for doing what we should be doing without expectation of return? Right living alone is not enough. What else does John say that might lead to Joy? There is his promise of the coming of Christ, the same promise we embrace today. Jesus is coming. He will baptize us with the spirit and draw us to himself as the miller stores the good wheat after the chaff is separated.

The more I reflect on this short passage, the more kernels of the finest grain I find. He said not to extort, do not be dishonest, be satisfied and generous with what we have. If we do all these things then we will find joy but we also have to be secure in our belief of the coming incarnation. Understanding these things fills me with a sense of joy because they are all things I can do, things I have been doing, things that we all do together. I am not giving away all of my coats just yet but I will give to the poor who will not offer me any praise and not just to those who I hold dear. I just have to take the first step and let go of what I don’t need. 

In the days since I first started this reflection something curious has happened. I find myself settling deeper into the anticipation of the incarnation. Thinking back over the course of the year I find myself stunned on the changes the world has seen but even more acutely, the changes I have progressed through. The beginning of the year was filled with hesitation and anxiety as I stood at the brink of transition from living out a vocation to leaving all of that behind to start a new phase of life in which there will not be a regular pay deposit every two weeks for the first time in 43 years. Nearly a half of a century. A very long time.

In the days since retirement, the anxiety has faded into a new routine that I dearly love. I recognize how blessed I have been over the years but how even more blessed I am today than ever. EVER. I lack nothing except, perhaps, a proper attitude of humility and gratitude but I will work on those things with increased diligence because today I have JOY I can’t even begin to express. That is right, joy.

What could even be more joyful? Acceptance of Christ even deeper into my heart, deeper into my essence, deeper into my being and deeper in every way to everyone in my life and, of course, beyond those limitations of time and space.

Maybe it is time to stock and ask just how many coats I really need and can some of them serve more than one purpose. The prospect of doing that brings me….. not joy. No yet but certainly a hope of more joy.


Post Script

Paul Harvey used to have a feature called “the Rest of the Story” which I dearly loved to listen to and that I miss hearing to this day but the phrase works here. And now here is the rest of the story.

I attended a retreat in Great Falls over the weekend at the Ursuline Centre. The retreat is annual event for me which I have enjoyed the last 13 years except for last year because the flipping pandemic messed it up. On Wednesday a terrible wind driven fire torched a large area of open

land just outside Great Falls but in a course of hours multiple structures were totally were burnt to the ground- or worse. Paul, the cook at the Centre for many years was one of those who, as the saying goes, lost everything. Fortunately he was not home when the fire happened so he is safe but all he had left to wear was the clothes he had with him in a room where he stays while working.

I brought two coats to Great Fall with me. I brought only one home.

So it begins.

Second Sunday of Advent - the Sunday of Hope

Luke 3:1-6

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip tetrarch of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias was tetrarch of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the desert. John went throughout the whole region of the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah:

A voice of one crying out in the desert:

“Prepare the way of the Lord,

make straight his paths.

Every valley shall be filled

and every mountain and hill shall be made low.

The winding roads shall be made straight,

and the rough ways made smooth,

and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

This is the Sunday of Advent, the Sunday we celebrate faith. We talk about faith often but what is it? What is this thing we seem to prize so dearly that that in moments of darkness or confusion, we find ourselves lost. When faith weakens, our hope in the future wobbles and fear wells up in us like an unwanted fog that obscures everything of value. Those of us with a sense of destiny and an urging for eternity chase after a secure faith like dogs chases after rabbits. We fall into a trap of thinking we will catch the rabbit in the next second bit we never quite close the gap.

I worry about my faith. Is my faith strong enough to sustain me? Is it enough to save me? Do I have faith enough to offer a welcoming safe hearth to others? Can I be a safe anchor for my family? Is my faith secure enough to weather the storms of adversity or the antagonistic challenges that rock my days and nights? I don’t know. I have doubt. We all do. We understand how critical faith is to finding joy, meaning and purpose in our lives today which lead to hope for a life eternal so search on with greater fervor.

Listen again to the words of the baptizer handed down to us. Imagine being willing to take up his

mission that was so at odds with the currents of believe in his time. Do I have the faith to preach in a way that reflects my charisms that Advent is not a time of giving or receiving but, rather, it is a time we to turn away from the distractions that do nothing to nourish our faith to turn toward preparing for His coming. I wonder if I can I express my ingrained and profound value of all human life from conception to natural death without worrying about offending others? Can I love others without question or concern about who they are or who they love? Does vaccination status have anything to do with human worth? Why is the discussion even relevant? 

These are questions I ponder today but not just today but every day. I am not alone and that is why we gather often so we can share our doubts and offer each other unending hope that comes from shared concern and love that arises out of the faith of our ancestors. 

I believe the prophet and the good news for today is I can cry out his words in affirmation and be glad I am not and I don’t have to be a voice crying in the wilderness. 

We joyfully acknowledge our faith lives today and it is stronger that yesterday because we have shared it together. 

2021 First Sunday Advent

Luke 21:25–28, 34–36

Jesus said to his disciples:
“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on earth nations will be in dismay, perplexed by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will die of fright in anticipation of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. And then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. But when these signs begin to happen, stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.

“Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life, and that day catch you by surprise like a trap. For that day will assault everyone who lives on the face of the earth. Be vigilant at all times and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man

With the suddenness of a winter storm, the end of the liturgical year, Thanksgiving and the first Sunday in Advent is upon us. What happened? Nothing out of the ordinary, just the routine flipping of pages on the calendar but there has been much to mark the passage of time. As I reflect on the past year, I realize how important is for me to enter into the quiet and to remind and renew my spirit of the true essence of time.

As we did last year, I would to walk through the Sundays of Advent with you, focusing each week on the theme of the Sunday Mass. It is important to not let the noise, tumult and, for some, the sadness of the season fill our conscious minds and emotions.

The Gospel passage for today cannot be more pertinent for this Sunday, the Sunday of hope. It points to the ultimate destiny of all of us, a destiny we long to embrace but, and there is a big but, there is also something else to overcome, fear.

The roaring of the seas will perplex us and perplexity will yield to fear. Even though I try live as instructed and invited, I am not spot on my performance. Who among us is? Is where I am close enough to the standards expected by God at the time of judgement? No. None of is nor can we ever be despite our best intentions.

So where do we find hope in the passage? Only in one sentence, just one can we find hope when he said: “But when these signs begin to happen, stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.”

The promise redemption is at hand is the hook we need to seize. Everything else in the Gospels points and promises us there will be a redemption for us at the end of days. Even though it is easy to be fearful, he promises us in many places that we are not to be a afraid. We can leave the insecurities of the future to those who do not turn toward Holiness and move toward the fullness of union with Christ. We can rely upon the tender mercy of God in the midst of the storms of time.

The other important warning is to not let the anxieties of the day distract us. I am reminded to not let Christmas decorations, parties, gift giving or pointless displays of generosity not grounded in a Christian ethic distract me. Instead, I want to enter into a quiet period of prayer and service to others. The Christmas season brings great sorrow to my wife and I and to many others. There is no hope of healing from the sadness unless we remember God is coming to us as a man who like us, will experience all that we experience and promises us deliverance into a joyful eternity. 

Lord, help us to enter to season of coming with hope.