Reflection for Friday-Saturday, October 30 - 31

The fierce-faced preacher took his place in the pulpit. The people braced themselves, thinking that they’d be subjected to a strong dose of “fire and brimstone.”

But the preacher surprised them. He didn’t speak of condemnation, or judgment, or hell. He spoke about heaven. He spoke about something so good and true and beautiful that it made those people begin to want heaven, to want it so badly that they became aware of just how far from heaven their lives really were, and they became aware of just how much was going on in their lives which would make heaven impossible for them to bear.

That week, long lines formed at the confessional. Miracles were taking place: people who had settled into complacency, people who had not taken an honest and sincere look at their lives, were moved to confess, to speak about things which they had been shrugging off for literally a life-time before that day.

Nothing will separate us from God

Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. (Saint Paul to the Romans, 8:31-39)

Nothing.

Again, I say it: nothing.

Not our sins, nor our weakness, nor our failings, nor our crimes, nor our lack of faith, nor our discouragement, nor anything else that is within you that you believe stands as an obstacle between you and God’s love.

God is greater than your barriers, than your doubt, than your forgetfulness, than your settling for mediocrity, than your obstinate and total resistance.

One thing is dangerous: the belief or insistence that you are going to solve the problem that is your life without God. But even then, God has ways of working things out so that you eventually come to your senses. It might take a lifetime, but for God a lifetime is as brief as a snap of the fingers. And God will let you suffer until you reach a point where you finally cry out, “O God, help me!” And then the miracle begins all over again.

And it doesn’t help to proclaim that you are an atheist. The atheist also has faith: he believes in Not-God. But even Not-God is God, and he will reach through, and he will continue to love and bless the atheist with anything and everything that keeps him close even if he refuses to believe.

Some people are so fed up with religion (for very good reasons, mind you) that they want nothing to do with church or ritual. (The miracle is that some of us still cling to church and ritual despite everything.) But for those who cannot, God draws them through another attraction or path.

Nothing can separate us from the love of God.

Nothing within you; nothing outside of you.

Be at peace.

The struggle to "let go"

We all struggle against something that deep down inside we realize that we need to “lose” in our lives, to set aside, to get free from. We struggle with such matters for years, perhaps, until it is suddenly and mysteriously time for us to let go. (God’s time is the best time of all.)

I remember when it came time for me to quit smoking, so let me use that as an example. At that time, one of the things that discouraged me was the fear that life as I knew it was coming to an end, and I couldn’t imagine what that would be like or how it would be possible. After all, I didn’t know how to live as a non-smoker.

The truth of the matter, however, is that once we are committed to letting go of something, and have asked God for help, we discover a new way of living that is so much better than the former way of life that we can’t understand why we waited so long in the first place. And so, my friends, if at this time you find you are being called to lose something in your life, ask God for miraculous help to let it go. You will find far more than you are losing.

Let the feeling pass

The same theme came up in several sources I’ve been reading and hearing today. I’ll present them to you hear, and hope that you will weave them together in a way which is most helpful to you. Remember to take what resonates with you and leave the rest behind for now:

 From the Imitation of Christ: All of us are subject to a constant flow of changing feelings, and what we need to do is arise above them and keep our eyes on Christ and our hearts on the goal which awaits us.

From the Letter of Paul to the Romans: I consider that the sufferings of this present time are as compared to the glory to be revealed for us. (Rom 8:18)

From the martyred Oscar Romero: . . . the glorification that we’ll one day be given, superior to all the pains and sufferings that can be felt on this earth. . . I knew a man who was being tortured: as he suffered, he said ‘The hope I have and the glory I await are greater than this suffering.’   Recorded in Give Us This Day in the reflection for October 27, 2015.

From mindfulness training (which we have spoken about in several previous reflections): Consider that  You are not your feelings. You are the one who has the feelings which continually arise and pass through you if you do not attach yourself to them.

From Thomas Keating, O.C.S.O.: “Once you disidentify with your feelings, you know that you can change them. You are not your feelings.” “It is important to keep reminding [ourselves] to face the truth of our feelings without identifying with them, acting them out, or objectifying them and blaming them on other people.” Divine Mercy and Addiction, pp. 26-27.

Getting back on track

I will be away for a few days. The next reflection will be on October 27.

He is searching for God. He has a good prayer life, leads a reflective life, and surrounds himself with loving, supportive friends who support him in his quest.

And yet there are times when he gets disconnected from the Source of all peace and happiness, and begins going after things which will ultimately fail to satisfy. At times he falls prey to the illusion that <this> or <that> really matter at lot more than they really do. These times of dis-connection open a gate within him and he becomes prone to disappointment, regret, jealousy, envy, judging others, the urge to control his reality or that of others. He experiences feelings which are far from the peace and happiness he seeks. During these times he becomes like a fool playing with what is toxic, what is treacherous, and, ultimately, what fails to satisfy.

                                 

When he was younger, this dis-connection was the norm and not the exception—that is, until God reached out and touched him and “made his footsteps firm.”  St. Paul called him back to spiritual reality: ”. . . what profit did you get then from the things of which you are now ashamed.” (Romans 6:21)

Now things are different. He still gets dis-connected from time to time, but he has found a remedy: he simply things of times when he has said, done or thought things which brought him inner joy. And reflecting on these things, the shadows are dissolved in the light of Christ.

Thus restored, he gives thanks. To the God who is love.

You are not your thoughts

You are not your thoughts.

When I was teaching, I would write that sentence on the board on the first day of class. I would say nothing about it at all and yet, invariably, as the semester went on, students would gradually reach a point where they understood what it meant, and they would realize just how true it is.

Have you reached that point yet in your own spiritual development—the point where you understand that thoughts are things that enter into your mind and then pass through you if you let them.

You are not your thoughts. You are the one who has thoughts.

Here is another challenge to accept or reject: your thoughts are not necessarily true. All you need to is look at the current political drama being played out in our country right now to see what harm and chaos results when people who have thoughts assume their thoughts are true.

Humility requires that we place our thoughts on “hold.” Humility guides us to ask questions, “What if these thoughts I’m thinking aren’t necessarily true?” “What if others hold thoughts that are different from mine—might it be that their thoughts are closer to the truth than mine are?”

Humility requires us to hold our thoughts up to the light of faith, to the thoughts and teachings of our God and his Christ, to see if there be anything in our thoughts which need to be corrected, or challenged or purified? Remember that the Lord has said,

“My thoughts are not your thoughts. My ways are not your ways.

For as the heavens are high above the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways,

and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isaiah 55:8-9)

Don’t let one of your thoughts, particularly if it be troublesome, take hold of you and drag you away from yourself and your peace. Look at the things you are most passionate about, and examine your thoughts. You might be surprised what this will lead you to.

And, for what they’re worth, those are my thoughts on this subject.

This reflection is a continuation of the one I posted on August 14. You can find it on my blog or on my facebook page.

The Paradox of Autumn

Autumn is a beautiful season. Autumn is a season of death. All around us, the world is ablaze in color. Color which is the result of dying. Many of us find it hard to think of death and beauty at the same time, and yet that is what is happening. Parker Palmer calls it a great paradox, this blending of opposites which must be held in the spirit at the same time: death/life, beauty/corruptibility, color/darkness.

Deep truth is not found in either/or thinking, but rather in the paradox both/and.

Our faith is filled with such paradoxes. Think of the paradox that begins the Requiem Mass: We are baptized into Christ’s death so that we might rise with him to new life.

Autumn is also a season when seeds are scattered and will bear fruit in times to come. Again we can think of our faith: the seed falls to the ground and dies so that will bear much fruit. The death of Christ inaugurates a time of un-ending life.

We can also think of our own lives, of those times when we have been called to suffer little (or great) deaths which themselves gave way to new promises, new horizons and new fruits. I’ll let Parker Palmer have the last word here:

“In retrospect, I can see in my own life what I could not see at the time—how the job I lost helped me find work I needed to do, how the ‘road closed’ sign turned me toward terrain I needed to travel, how losses that felt irredeemable forced me to discern meanings I needed to know. On the surface, it seemed that life was lessening, but silently and lavishly the seeds of new life were always being sown.”  (Let Your Life Speak, p. 99)

Your heart's desire

Verses from Morning Prayer today:

Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you your heart’s desire.

and again, Commit your life to the Lord and he will grant your heart’s desire.

What is this “heart’s desire” that he will grant us? It’s not what you might think, and most likely it is not something you would pray for. In fact, this “heart’s desire” is probably something you have never thought of before, have never anticipated, and at this point you might not even know it exists. We’re dealing here with the realm of grace, with the realm of mystery, and in terms of a supernatural process that is set in motion by the commitment itself.

I’m speaking from experience here. I remember the time I first read those words and took them to heart. And from that day forward, life changed in ways that I never would have predicted. What I was given was far more than anything I had ever asked or hoped for.

And, this gift to my heart is a gift that keeps on giving, some thirty-five or forty years later. It has never ceased to fill my life with good, even in the midst of trials and difficulties.

If you’ve already made that commitment, if you’ve already begun to realize that your greatest delight is with the things of God, then you know what I am talking about. If you haven’t yet done so, or if you aren’t really sure that your life could change so radically, then simply pray for the grace to realize and to live these words, in your time, at the right time, which is, after all, God’s time. And God’s time is the best time of all.

May your heart be filled, all the days of your life.

God's experience

The second reading for today’s Mass, from Hebrews: For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has similarly been tested in every way without sin.

Do you get how marvelous that is?!!!  There is no trial that you or I ever have to endure that we cannot find by looking at the crucifix and by studying the Gospels. I take the liberty of extending that passage to refer to suffering as well. The wonderful things about Christian truth is that we have a God who suffers with us, who knows about suffering not by means of his unbounded intellect, but in a far more important way: through personal experience.

They say that “a sorrow shared is half a sorrow.” Well then, always remember where you need to bring your sorrow. And your pain. And your weakness. And anything else you need to bring.

3 brief reflections

There will be no reflection on Saturday, October 17.

Jesus was tempted by Satan and ministered to by angels.

See that as an icon:  By going through life blissfully ignoring the fact that we are being lured by Satan, we also blot out the reality that we are being ministered to by angels.

Gratitude and awe can be strong defenses against insidious pride. Humble Gratitude recognizes that something has been given, not earned. Awe recognizes the greatness of both gift and Giver and puts a man in his proper place: “Who is man that thou should care for him?”

We don’t sing because we have beautiful voices we want to show off. We sing because the singing itself cleanses us and touches our own souls in ways that words cannot. We sing because we have grown tired of not singing, of standing idly by while others seem to be enjoying themselves.

I am who I am and not what I do.

During my years in the monastery I have known several monks who had held important jobs, and once their terms of office were completed, quietly took their place once again in the ranks of ordinary monks. That must be a very difficult thing for a person to do: to let go of a position of responsibility and power and certain honor and then go back and lose himself in the ordinary -- or was it find himself in the ordinary?

And yet, that is a moment which most of us must face, each in own given professions and vocations. The time when our prowess has run its course, a time when our strength is on the wane, strength that was never really ours but only lent to us for a moment for the good of others. The time when we can feel the pain of not being able to do what once came to us so easily. The sages tell us that what we need to learn to do to prepare for such times is to place much more emphasis on being than on doing. One’s sense of self cannot become overidentified with one’s job or rank or prestige.

We are also warned by the sages that if we fail to learn this lesson, we risk becoming bitter old people, cursing life, cursing faith, because we placed all our self-worth in our own abilities rather than in who we are. I have also noticed in my time as a monk that the monks who live to be the oldest and the most at peace are the monks who have learned these spiritual truths long before the day of their waning. 

Dealing with resentments

There are times in our lives when things turn out to be disappointing, or unexpected, or undesirable or even tragic. There are people in our lives who turn out to be agents of these difficulties. There are events in our lives which demand major changes or moves or that turn things right upside down for us.

And then, sometimes, a time comes when all of a sudden things begin to make sense and where all the pieces of the puzzle fit together, and if we look at these times with eyes of faith we can see that God was the master weaver of the tapestry of our lives, fitting all the various strings and stains into sometime beautiful. If we look on one said of the tapestry all we see is disarray and confusion, but if we look at the other side, the artistry of our Creator’s providential care for us is displayed in all its splendor.

Now what, you may ask, does all of this have to do with resentment? Well, go to the first paragraph again, and see how plausible it is that we might develop resentments towards people, and places, and things, and events, and decisions that others have made which effect our lives—especially because we cannot yet see the bigger picture. Once we’ve seen the bigger picture, things begin to make sense and resentments get resolved and washed away.

The trick, I guess, is to realize at all times and under all circumstances that there is a bigger picture, that God is doing the weaving, that his sense of time is the best time of all, and that the day will come—sometimes far off into an uncertain future---when we will see how these things fit together.

Take a look at the resentments you carry around in your life. Take just one of them and try to see it as part of a bigger picture. See if it helps.

God bless you!

Things that hurt the soul and spirit.

These lines are from a hymn we sang this morning at Morning Prayer:

Lord, make our hearts and bodies whole

lest earth’s enticements snare the soul.

Lest anger wound our inmost parts,

resentment hurt our fragile hearts.     (From a 6^th Century hymn translated by Thomas Cooper)

Three points:

1.       There is an unavoidable connection between materialism or the search for pleasure on the one hand, and the health of the soul on the other hand. Pope Francis has had a lot to say about this over the past year.

2.       Anger is toxic and destructive, inflicting the spirit of the one who hangs on to anger. Even if no one else is hurt by my anger, I am hurting myself both spiritually and physically.

3.       The same thing goes for resentments, which are actually subtle forms of anger.  I have found that taking time every now and then to list people and situations that I resent and then asking the Lord to heal the resentment does me a lot of good. Unacknowledged resentments can be like a hidden cancer consuming the better parts of our nature.

Spiritual friendship

The three friends rejoiced to see one another again. It had been a long time. Each had a different saga to share, a tale of a difficult journey taken not completely alone because they had had one another for support and consolation. They rejoiced that their friendship was a kind that transcended personal struggles, weaknesses or losses.

Two men and one woman. They had only four days to be together. The first couple of days were marked by riotous laughter, tales of past adventures with a bit of silly cynicism thrown into the mix. They also had a wonderful opportunity to process together the things that were happening to them during the course of the workshop they were attending together.

As they moved into days three and four, their mood began to shift. They grew quieter, more introspective. They shared not laughter, but wisdom—the kind of wisdom that comes from contemplative experience rather than well-written books. This wisdom had been written in their hearts as the most recent chapters of their lives had unfolded.

The last night, there was silence. Deep abiding silence, the silence that can only happen when people feel completely safe around each other. It was a bittersweet silence this time. Without saying anything, they knew that their sojourn together was coming to an end. They also knew that the way their life schedules played out, this might be the last time they were ever together again. And so they grieved a bit. They grieved because they loved deeply.

They sat still in the silence, wanting to prolong it for as long as they could, grateful to a God who had brought them together, who had knitted them together in a blessed and unique friendship.

The time passed and they said goodbye. The hugs were intense but short-lived. And then they moved on.

They moved on, but not for long. The emails started immediately, each reaching out to touch the other through fingertips and smiling remembrances.

Be still

Be still and know that I am God (Psalm 46:11)

Picture this: You’re walking down the street when suddenly you hear the peal of a tower bell announcing that it is 1 o’clock.

Consider what you experience: A sound comes to your ears, and then moves away, while perhaps your ears pick up another sound such as a horn honking or a friend speaking to you.

Meanwhile, you are there, the same as you were before. A sound came into your mind and then passed through you. Other sounds began to appear.

When we meditate, sitting in silent attention, an occasional thought or idea arises. What do we do with it? Do we entertain the thought and end up getting carried away from our meditative space, or do we acknowledge it and allow it to pass through us, just like the sound of that bell?

If you are able to remain still you can reach a point where that stillness is present in your life no matter what happened. Psychologists call this the “being mode.” This mode has several characteristics:

·         It is focused on the present moment.

·         It accepts and allows what comes to mind.

·         It is non-judgmental.

·         Thoughts and feelings are related to as events that come and go.

The words of Psalm 46 encourage us to enter into “being mode.” The psalm talks about calamities happening around us, mountains falling into the sea, waters raging and foaming, and so on.

Read Psalm 46 and related it events in your own life. And then, right at the conclusion, the word comes from the Lord: Be still and know that I am God. I'll take care of all of that!

Meditate. Trust. Stay at peace. Let things go.

The Critic has been thrown down

(The next reflection will be on Sunday.)

When I used to teach a course called Creativity, one of the things we did in class was begin to become more aware of something that many of us live with on a daily basis: the existence of a voice inside of us that I call the Critic.

The things that the Critic has to say are like a broken record that says “what you’ve done isn’t good enough,” “you’re not working hard enough,” “you aren’t going to successful if you try . . . “ “what will others think of you . . . “ and so on.

There is a spiritual dimension to what the Critic offers as well: “You’re not close enough to God, you don’t pray enough, you aren’t worthy of God’s gifts and graces.” The last example is true—we are not worthy, but God makes us worthy. That’s what grace is all about.

There is a wonderful verse in the Book of Revelation that provides both help and hope when we are dealing with onslaughts of the Critic. Revelation 12:10:

Now have salvation and power come,

and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Anointed.

For the accuser or our brothers has been cast down,

who accuses them day and night before our God.

Whatever the accusation, whether it be for real incidents of sinfulness, or it be the subtle insidious ways the Critic tries to get under of our skin, it is silenced, and, through the grace of the Cross of Jesus, the accusations have been swept away.

Remember this verse when the Critic or the accuser tries to get to you.

A simple thought, while I'm away

I will be away for several days and will not have access to a computer. The next Reflection will be on October 9. Please keep me in your prayers.

Over these days, I’d like to leave you with one simple notion for your reflection. A simple notion, yet one which, if given proper attention, is a wide and wonderful as the entire universe.

That notion is this: God is with you, all the time.

That’s all, and it certainly is enough. In fact, if you give it its due, it is not only enough, but it is everything.

God is with us, all the time.

And yet, how easily we can forget it, or overlook it, or even turn our backs on it, especially if we are doing, thinking or acting in a way which we’d rather He not see. And yet, He’s there.

At all times and in all places, you are within his embrace and you are in touch with the author of everything—as Saint Paul says, in whom we live, and move, and have our being.

All it takes is one simply breath—in fact, less than that. All it takes is one simple inhalation, and during that time, you can re-establish a contact which has lost its freshness and its reality.

Take that breath. Often. When you inhale, think of God breathing the breath of life into you at the moment of your birth, a breath which will never leave you until the day you pass from this life to the other side.

Close your eyes. Smile just a bit. And inhale.

God is with you, all the time.

Have a nice week.

God is not just.

There will be no reflection on Saturday.

I’ve been reading a treatise by Isaac of Nineveh (a 7^th century Syrian monk), who taught that God is not just. Follow his line of reasoning, if you will:

Just is simply not enough. If God were just, then most of us would be doomed because of our sins and failings. No. God is more than just. God is love, and his live overcomes any demands that justice might make, particularly when it comes to our salvation and redemption.

Isaac points to two examples in the Gospels of God’s love triumphing over justice:

·         The keeper of the vineyard who pays the last group of workers an entire day’s wage even though they had not earned it.

·         The parable of the prodigal son, who doesn’t get what he deserved, but was treated with prodigal love and compassion. (Some have suggested that a better name for this parable would be “the prodigal father.”

By looking at our own lives, perhaps, we can see Isaac’s point:

·         Can you recall a time in your life when you have been given a far greater blessing than you thought you deserved?

·         Can you recall a time in your life when your sins were cast aside and overlooked while, again, you have been blessed beyond anything you could have expected?

God is not merely just. He is so much more than that. Thank God.

Finding true peace and happiness

finishing Paragraph 27 of the Catechism:

“. . . only in God will he find the truth and happiness that he never stops searching for.”

I remember a quote from somewhere about a man who worked to climb to ladder of success only to find that when he reached the top he discovered that the ladder had been put up against the wrong wall.

We all do that at times. Don’t take my word for it: check out your life. Have there been times when you have been in pursuit of something that you thought would make you happy, only to discover that once you got what is was your happiness was either short-lived or even nonexistent? The same thing is true for peace. How many times, how may remedies do we try that are designed to give us peace of mind, only to discover that the peace we sought so desperately eluded us?

Only in God. That’s the answer in all its simplicity and in all its complexity. Only In God.

Cistercian monk Fr.Thomas Keating teaches that we have a number of “instinctual needs” that we are continually searching for: “survival and security, affection and esteem and approval, and power and control.” How do we try to get these things? How often are we thwarted in our quest? How many false solutions do we seek?

What is the remedy: Well, when we are searching for God, we discover that we have an “enormous capacity” for “growth, love, freedom, peace, service of others, and reaching out to those in need.” Those are the things that bring us what we have been searching for all along! And how do we learn to devote our lives to those things? Well, back to paragraph 27.

By the way, Fr. Keating also points out that when we push these things aside and search for false remedies, we often get ourselves into a great deal of trouble. This is how obsessions develop, or even addictions. Again, there is a remedy: back to paragraph 27.

Have a nice day.

Advance notice: I will be away next week and will not have access to a computer. I intend to post (with God’s help) tomorrow and Sunday. The next reflection after that will be on October 9. Please keep me in your prayers. Thank you.