Be willing to change your mind

The story of the healing of Naaman the Syrian is one of my favorites. You can read it in 2 Kings 5:1-15 or perhaps you heard it at Mass today.

There are several pivotal points in the story where one of the characters has to overcome doubts and lack of faith and take a course of action that (s)he never would have taken on his/her own.

I’ll give a quick synopsis, but it would be most helpful if you read the story along with my commentary.

·         The slave girl had to overcome her fear and speak up about a possible cure in Samaria

·         Naaman had to agree to go, and the King of Aram had to give him permission to go.

·         The King of Israel had to overcome his dismay and listen to the prophet Elijah rather than giving in to despair or believe his own suspicion that the entire situation was set up as a provocation for war.

·         Then the King of Israel had to agree to send the leper to Elijah.

·         The Naaman went to Elijah but had to overcome his anger and dismay about (1) that the prophet didn’t even come out of his house to greet him and (b) that the prophet told him to do something that didn’t make any sense at all (to wash seven times in the Jordan).

·         Finally, Naaman had to listen to his servants and go and do what the prophet had told him to do.

God often works through unexpected and contradictory means to an end. He challenges our fear, our doubts and our lack of faith. There often seems to be something we have to overcome in order to walk the path He has indicated for us, and in some cases this means that we have  to swallow our pride and do so.

SO: Watch out for situations like that. Silence your mind’s objections. Open up a bit and be willing to make a change. And sometimes the things that don’t seem to make any sense to us make a great deal of sense if we can consider them in the light of our developing faith. Finally, listen to the people who love you. Sometimes their advice and encouragement are pointing you in the right direction.

God bless you. 

So far beyond my reach . . .

The prayer after communion on the 3^rd Sunday of Lent, Year C:

As we receive the pledge of things yet hidden in heaven

and are nourished while still on earth with the Bread that comes from on high,

we humbly entreat you, O Lord,

that what is being brought about in us in mystery

may come to true completion.

Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

A great mystery is taking place within us, and we are not yet ready to understand what it is. So we sit in hope and expectation, knowing that God is working things in us despite anything that might be in us, whether it be sin, or ignorance, or resistance, or cynicism, or doubt or fear. God is greater than any obstacle of our own making.  As is says in the psalm for the day: “For as the heavens are high above the earth, so surpassing is his kindness toward those who fear him.” (other translations have “steadfast love” or simply “love.”)

A great mystery is taking place within us: at all times we are a work in process. And the process is yet to be completed. And the process is yet to be revealed to us. And even if it were, our finite minds would not be able to comprehend it. We have to wait for the time to come.

This is excellent material for our meditation: we sit in silence and in hope, we open our hearts and minds and souls, and with rapt attention we contemplate the goodness of God at work in us, a work that can’t be put into words.

We can assume from the closing prayer that the key to this work is the Eucharist itself. It is the Eucharist that unites heaven and earth. There are things yet hidden in heaven (part of the process) and the Bread comes to us from on high and nourishes us while still on earth.

The Eucharist isn’t only the key; the Eucharist is part of the mystery. There is so much more contained in the Eucharist that we can possibly imagine. And the time for our thanksgiving after the Eucharist is so brief. I remember hearing it said that St. John Paul II would spend a long amount of time meditating after he receive the Eucharist at Mass. I think I can understand why.

And yet for us, the time is short and we are quickly distracted. Maybe because such knowledge is too high for me, so far beyond my reach. (Psalm 139:6)

And yet, let us reach out for it, always in humility and always in thanksgiving.

God bless you.

Sin in the soul hurts the body

I am going to turn to the psalms frequently as the days go on, because the words of the psalms are effective invitations to deeper reflection and also to deeper prayer. Psalm 6, which we will consider today, is often called a Psalm of Repentance, of turning back to the Lord. It is in this sense that I read the following:

Return, Lord, rescue my soul. (Psalm 6:5; Grail translation)

Return, Lord: Several days ago we considered how the Lord is always in us and with us, and that when he seems far from us it is often because we have moved away, not Him. In this light, what does it mean to ask the Lord to return? Has the Lord gone away and we beg him to come back to us, or is it rather that we have moved away, and now we wake up and make ready to draw near again?

And how is it that we have moved away? Through sin, perhaps, or through entertaining certain temptations to sin? Or is it simply that our lives have once again gotten so distracted that we have forgotten that every moment of every day, we are walking with God?

And so I suggest that when we pray, Return, Lord, we are actually praying Help me to come back to you. Help me focus my awareness on you once again.

Rescue my soul: Read in the context of Psalm 6, a psalm of repentance for someone racked with guilt, we are asking the Lord to rescue us from bodily and spiritual pain. The Psalmist is sick and discouraged. Different translations say it differently:

Grail translation: Have mercy on me Lord, I have no strength; Lord heal me, my body is racked; my soul is racked with pain.

RSV translation: Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing; O Lord, heal me, for my bones are troubled. My soul is also troubled.

The revised New American Bible (the one used at Masses) is even more dramatic: Have pity on me, Lord, for I am weak; heal me, Lord, for my bones are trembling; in utter terror is my soul.

Notice the close correlation between the state of the soul and the state of the body. Have you found this to be true in your own life at times? Does being in a state of sin have its effect on your own health, your own body?

Conclusion: There are times in all of our lives when our sinfulness has brought us to our knees and we can identify with the words of the psalmist. If this is not such a time in your life, then pray it for someone who is suffering in body, mind or spirit because of guilt. At the same time, however, remember that this is the Year of Mercy, and that the Lord will lift you from your knees and forgive and restore you so that there will be no more pain, no more suffering.

And if necessary, go to confession to get the source of your own pain healed.

God bless you!

Towards greater peace of mind

The circumstances of our lives are what they are, but there is a wide range of different ways that we can experience or relate to those circumstances. If, for example, we believe that all things are in God’s hands and that He is with us in all things, we are able to remain relatively calm even in the midst of turmoil. Let me give you an example:

A couple of weeks ago I was invited out to lunch by a friend I haven’t seen in a while. I was looking forward to the occasion. But, alas! That morning it started to snow and as the day went on the snow kept getting worse. We had to cancel our luncheon and arrange for a rain-check.

When I was a younger man, I would have been angry at the snow, and angry at my fate. A barrage of negative thoughts would be passing through my mind, and as the day went on, the commentary about my disappointment would have ruined my mood and spoiled any possibility that something good would have come along later in the day. The stronger and more virulent the commentary, the lower my mood.

But now, I look at events differently. It was snowing. We couldn’t go to lunch. God sent the disappointment and I have learned through experience that the best thing to do is simply to surrender to the disappointment and move on. And so I did. End of story. Very little commentary.

When I meditated that evening, the thought about the cancelled luncheon came up as a distraction. I noticed it, returned my attention to my breathing and to the Jesus Prayer, and let the thought pass through me without attaching any commentary at all to it. And the meditation continued. As thoughts or emotions came up, I would let them pass through. If I began commenting about the thoughts or feelings, as soon as I noticed what I was doing, I would stop commenting and return my attention to my breathing. Most of the time the thoughts and emotions would pass.

The moral of the story is that we will always have thoughts and feelings about things that happen in our lives. That isn’t going to change. But what we do with them does change as we grow and evolve. As Martin Laird says, “thoughts and feelings continue to come and go, but our relationship with them changes.” (A Sunlit Absence, p. 18) He continues: “The external circumstances of our lives continue to be whatever they happen to be at any given moment, but now we experience these circumstances differently. (p. 21)

We had lunch a week later and it was a wonderful experience.

God bless you.

Praying in secret

Another verse from Psalm 51:

. . . in the secret of my heart teach me wisdom  (verse 8b)

This verse is about silence and contemplation, and about the fruit of a very personal and private relationship with God. When I pray it, I hear echoes of the teaching in the Gospel passage for Ash Wednesday, when the Lord says, “when you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret.”

Where is your “inner room” and how do you get there? I used to use a guided meditation with my students where I invited them to construct in their imagination an actual room, that was a private and safe space for them, where no one else could enter. It was for them a place ready to induce contemplation.

Perhaps you can do the same thing. Let the room be anything you like, and decorated in a way that would support you in your prayer. It isn’t located outside of you, but rather within you, in that deep and secret space where the Holy Spirit resides, and rest there. Use a prayer word or phrase to center your attention, and maintain as much inner silence as you can. Not only can you pray to the Father, but also the Father can speak to you without words, touching your innermost place with gifts of wisdom and peace.

What results from this is rarely something we can speak to others about, and it’s possible that we can’t even put it into words for ourselves. But as time goes by, we begin to see its fruits: perhaps a chance in attitude, or a new way of dealing with things that is completely different from what we do by habit.

We see the world differently, and things make sense where previously nothing made sense, and meanwhile our own ways of looking at things begin to evolve. Review the qualities of wisdom found in chapter 7 of the Book of Wisdom, and reflect on whatever word or term resonates with you at this point in your life.

You will experience more love in your life, more peace in your heart, you will become more kind and more sensitive to the times when you act or react without kindness.

Finally, you will notice that God is, indeed, creating within you a clean heart. Give thanks always.

God bless you.

David's contrition and God's faithfulness

We continue with our meditation on Psalm 51:10-12 (“Create in me a clean heart . . . “

Today: “Take not your holy Spirit from me”

David was devastated when he realized the seriousness of the sins he had committed. At such a moment, it would be reasonable to think he was thinking of his predecessor, King Saul, from whom God did take his Spirit. David recognized that his own sin was perhaps even more grevious than the sins of Saul, and so he trembled with fear. One commentator suggests that he also thought of Cain, who was cast totally from the Lord (see Gen. 4:14) and also driven from the land he inhabited, destined to become a wander and a vagabond upon the earth.

Tough stuff. Have you ever felt perhaps that because of your own sin God was going to give up on you? Then you can relate with David’s despondency at this moment of his life, the moment when his eyes were open to see the evil he had committed.

Yesterday we looked at “Cast me not away from your presence” and today completes the couplet “and take not your holy spirit from me.”

Don’t forget that It was the Holy Spirit of God that gave David the power to prophesy, and also to compose the beautiful Psalms which are so much of our spiritual heritage. In fact, even at the moment of his greatest despondency, David was praying the very words which would become the psalm we are considering.

Peter also understood that without the Holy Spirit, purity and holiness of heart could not be restored to him and that his prayer “Create in me a clean heart” would not be heard.

Of course the Good news is that the Lord did hear his prayer, and that the Lord did not give up on him. And neither does He give up on us. At another point in the psalms, the Lord says of the descendants of David:

If his sons forsake my law and refuse to walk as I decree . . .

. . . Then I will punish their offenses with the rod . . .

. . . But I will never take back my love:

my truth will never fail.   (Psalm 89:31-34)

We do well to pray Psalm 51 frequently during these days of Lent, realizing that by praying the Psalm we are entering into a spiritual journey. First, serious contrition followed by eloquent prayer for forgiveness which then turns to hope and joy and praise.

God bless you

Feeling far from God?

I continue with Psalm 51, vv 12-13.

Cast me not away from your presence.

A friend once gave me a bumper sticker that said “Do you feel far from God? Well, who moved?” Since I don’t have a car of my own, I stuck it to the wall of my office. Not many benefitted from reading it, though, because it was in Hungarian. But some students used to ask me about it, and that ushered in nice teaching moment.

In the Psalm, David prays, Cast me not away from your presence,  and I’ve been thinking about that. God is in all things, and God’s love is within all of us, “in whom we live and move and have our being.” If that is the case, then could it really be possible that God would cast me out of his sight? If he were to do that, we would immediately turn to dust.

Rather, I would like to suggest that we cast Him from our presence. and by this I mean that we push him out of our consciousness and fail to consider that He is always with us, watching us and guiding us, and that when we move away He suffers just as Jesus suffered when the apostles fled when he was arrested.

But there are some times in our lives when we wish He would look somewhere else and not at us, especially when we are about to give into a temptation.

This is an important notion. So important, in fact, that Saint Benedict makes it the first step on the ladder of humility:

The first step of humility, then, is that a man keeps the fear of God always before his eyes (Psalm 36:2) and never forgets it. . . . . let him recall that he is always seen by God in heaven, that his actions everywhere are in God’s sight and are reported by angels at every hour. (Rule of St.Benedict, chapter 7, verses 1o and 12)

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

(And I thank the Lord for giving me this inspiration today, because I was pressed for time and only had half an hour to come up with something. I really felt like I was taking dictation rather than writing something on my own. But creativity is often like that at times, and this was one of them.)

God bless you.

No matter how low you may have fallen . . .

We continue with Psalm 51:12

               

Create in me a clean heart, O God,

and renew within me a steadfast spirit.

Remember that David was chosen by God, a fearless warrior, a great and powerful king and a virtuous one at that. His prayer was sublime and eloquent. He was the composer of most of the 150 psalms we have; in fact, this particular psalm was his psalm of repentance when he realized what wrong he had done.

And the great and almighty are fallen. David reached the heights of human perfection, but was brought down low by temptation to the point where he was guilty of adultery and indirect murder. (See II Samuel 11 and 12.)

If such a thing could happen to David, what might happen to us. Every single day, it is God’s grace that keeps us from falling into decadence and depravity, and we must always remember that, especially when we are tempted to judge people who have fallen prey to what is the worst in human nature. “There but for the grace of God go I” must be our constant prayer.

Notice in these verses that the first one speaks of the “heart” while the second one speaks of the “spirit.” These two words are used interchangeably in the scriptures. “Heart” generally refers to what is particular to the body while “spirit” refers to the supernatural part of our being. What David prays for in this verse, and we as well, one commentator says, is a “total renovation of his entire mental and moral nature, which he recognizes as corrupt and depraved.” (See www.biblehub.com/commentaries for excellent information about any passage of Scripture).

Do we sometimes perceive our natures as corrupt and depraved? If not, we still must recognize that no matter how “well-off” we think we may be in the spiritual life, it is possible for us to fall as David had fallen. And at that time, we need not lose hope, for God’s love is greatest for those who are most in need of his mercy. “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” We can pray no more honest prayer than that. It also helps to consider Saint Peter, who also fell in a horrible way, but yet was restored by his Lord who asked him, despite everything, “Do you love me?”

One final observation: David prays for a “steadfast” spirit. The Hebrew word used here means “firm, constant or steadfast.” What David is praying for is a spirit so fixed and unmovable that it will not easily be shaken in time of even the most powerful temptations. Something for us to pray for as well, is it not?

God bless you.

Make me new, Lord

Our meditation today comes from Psalm 51:12a

                Create in me a clean heart, O God.

Sometimes when we look back over the past with the sensitivities and conscience of the present, we realize that we had done something perhaps years ago that now fills us with guilt and contrition. “If only I knew then what I know now!” we might cry. Times like that are times to turn to Psalm 51, which is David’s Psalm of repentance after the prophet Nathan had opened his eyes to see what sins he had committed: fornication, adultery and murder. (You can read the entire story in II Samuel, chapters 11 and 12.) And David’s psalm of repentance and contrition is asking not only for forgiveness of sin, but also a healing of the emotional, physical and social consequences of his sin. (And of our sins as well.)

Create in me a clean heart: This is asking for a lot. It’s not only a question of forgiveness or cleansing; it is begging for something completely new by an act of God’s creative power. We might pray, “Create in me a new clean heart.”

And God promises to do this. Ezekiel 36: 25-27:  I will sprinkle clean water upon you to cleanse you from all your impurities, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. I will give you a new heart and place a new spirit within you, taking from your bodies your stony hearts and giving you natural hearts.

One last thing: We pray this psalm frequently, and in the monastery usually on Fridays, the day of Christ’s passion. Again and again and again we need to beg for God’s creative action in our lives, because again and again and again we fall into sin. And God never tires of giving us what we ask for.

But sometimes we tire of asking.

Memories of the Lutherans

A good number of years ago, back in the 70’s, I served as organist and choir director in a Lutheran parish. I remember fondly my days with the Lutherans, and know that they had a profound effect on my spirituality. I know it was the first time I really heard a great emphasis placed on the love and mercy and forgiveness of God. I’m sure it was being preached about in my own Catholic parishes, but for some reason it had never gotten through to me. We are ready to hear and to learn what we are ready to hear and to learn, and God chooses the time and the place for our own soul-opening as well as the people He will use as instruments of faith in our life.

When I was with the Lutherans, it was time. Another thing I especially liked about the liturgy was that immediately after the sermon, we would sing the words to Psalm 51:

Create in me a clean heart, O God,

and renew within me a steadfast spirit.

Cast me not away from your presence,

and take not your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore unto me the joy of your salvation

and with a spirit of fervor sustain me.

I could actually hear the music in my mind as I was typing those words which are very close to the Grail translation, but in the version we used to sing every week.

It meant a lot, that hymn, and still does. My faith at that time was lukewarm, but by the time I had finished my seven years service in two Lutheran parishes, I began working in a Catholic parish and my faith was now reasonably solid, a faith which led me to the doors of Saint Anselm Abbey a decade later.

I thank God for the journey I was given, and still pray for Him to create in me a clean heart.

I’ll comment more on these verses over the next couple of days.

God bless you.

Holiness, part 2

Holiness, part 2

Maimonides (1135-1234) was one of the most influential Jewish philosophers of the Middle Ages. His major work was the Mishneh Torah, The Book of Knowledge, which lays out the theological and philosophical foundations of Judaism. Today’s reflection on holiness is from the Mishnew Torah and you’ll notice that it is quite similar to the teachings of Our Lord.

‘And you shall walk in God’s ways’ (Deut 28:9)

Here is how [our sages] explained this commandment:

just as God is called gracious, so you should be gracious;

just as God is called compassionate, so you should be compassionate;

just as God is called holy, so you should be holy.

Our prophets described God with such adjectives as for-bearing, filled with kindness, righteous and upright, pure, mighty and strong, and so forth,

to teach that these are good and upright qualities

that a person must adopt,

emulating God as much as possible.  (found in Perennial Wisdom, p. 223)

My commentary: Notice that all of these qualities deal with our interactions with other people and the way we think about them, even about wretched sinners (and be careful about your judgments in this regard). But what feeds these qualities is our on-going relationship with God. Seek in prayer and especially in meditation to deepen that relationship, and you will find yourself naturally acting in ways that are considered holy.

You will surprise yourself as you become aware of the changes that are taking place in your interactions and in your way of thinking.

God bless you!

What are Holy People like?

Moses proclaimed the Lord’s teaching to the people of Israel. The entire account is found in Leviticus 19. One thing he said was, “Be holy, for, I, the Lord your God, am holy.”

And Saint Benedict taught: “Do not aspire to be called holy before you really are, but first be holy that you may more truly be called so.” (Rule of Saint Benedict 4:62)

But what does it mean to be holy? To answer this question for myself, I look to my fellow monks to which of them I would call “holy,” and to identify what it is about them that makes them so. I’ll tell you what I discovered, but please realize that these are only my assessments, and as such, they are imperfect and incomplete. But for what it is worth, this is what I have noticed in the monks I truly call holy:

·         a constant and cheerful readiness to help others in any way possible, usually without even being asked;

·         extraordinary patience in bearing the infirmities and indignities of old age;

·         from them “never is heard a discouraging word”; rather they often have things to say that lift up the spirits of the rest of us;

·         great love for the Scriptures and spiritual writings; it is obvious that they have spent a life-time absorbing the texts and the wisdom from their own lectio divina;

·         complete respect and love for the Abbot and his teachings;

·         moderation in all things;

·         modest speech yet also an obvious cheerfulness most of the time if not all;

·         actively practicing the corporal and spiritual works of mercy;

·         ability to see beneath the habits and weakness of their confreres to the pain they carry around. Because of this they are very patient and understanding and concerned for their brothers’ consolation and healing.

Perhaps you, too, would like to take some time observing the qualities and actions of those people you consider to be holy, and to make a list them. Observation like this gives us something to aim for in our own lives and struggles. More about holiness next time.

God bless you!

God is waiting to help you

We might profit from a passage we read at daytime office today:

For thus says the Lord God,

the Holy One of Israel:

By waiting and by calm you shall be saved,

in quiet and in trust your strength lies.  (Isaiah:30:15)

This was addressed to the people of Israel, but they didn’t heed his words. Instead, they took matters into their own hands and sought help not from the Lord but from another nation in alliance with them, and their action let to disaster. And all the while, the Lord was telling them to wait. He would deliver them.

Yet the Lord is waiting to show you favor,

and he rises to pity you;

For the Lord is a God of justice:

blessed are all who wait for him!  (Isaiah 30:18)

Keep this in mind: The Lord is waiting to show you favor. He is waiting for you to stop worrying and planning what to do and open yourself to His action and assistance. Don’t forget: in quiet and trust your strength lies.

Get quiet. For those who live out in the world and not in convents and monasteries, it is so difficult to find quiet, to find silence, to find an atmosphere conducive to contemplation. But please notice that this silence is a necessity, not a luxury.

And perhaps you might find the time to make a retreat, to spend a day or two at a monastery or retreat center, or go off to that cabin in the woods even though it is cold. Be active: make quiet time. Ask the Lord. He will help you.

God bless you.

Sailing on Unknown Seas: a transformative approach to Lent

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Now for the reflection:

Verse 3 of the hymn “From Shallow Waters” (complete text at the end of this post):

We dare to launch on unknown seas and cast our nets abroad,

For you have bid us grasp by faith the promises of God.

O Christ, you crossed the same wide seas you send us now to sail;

Be present when we reach the depths with strength that does not fail!

I don’t know about you, but for me, by this point in the hymn, the metaphor about sailing seas is getting a little tiresome. I can’t help thinking of a little feature in the New Yorker magazine called “Block That Metaphor.” I invite you Translate the Metaphor: look to see what is underneath the imagery in the hymn. As so:

“We dare to launch on unknown seas.”  reminds me of something from the Letter to the Hebrews: Thus Moses went forth, not knowing where he was going. (Heb 11:8) And that is also true of us this Lent, isn’t it? We set out on our journey towards Easter, not knowing what this Lent will do for us, what this Lent will bring us, how this Lent will affect our lives. But we may ask, will it affect our lives? Will we cast our nets abroad? And what does that mean to us, to cast our nets abroad?

I’m giving you more questions than answers, I know. But the answers are up to you: are your Lenten observances going to have an impact on your life? What changes will you make, what new graces will be available to you because you open yourself up to receive them? I am not talking about earth-shattering heroic efforts, either. I’m thinking of little things. A few extra minutes added to your meditation time, or beginning to meditate . . . if you are in a city, how about putting spare change in your pocket so you can give an alms to some beggar . . . or give a smile to someone who looks lonely or sad . . . offer a kind word to someone you usually take for granted . . . fasting from something that is an obstacle between you and God. Don’t forget that fasting doesn’t only refer to food and drink. Change your life a little bit. Walk on unknown seas. The Lord will help you.

“O Christ, you crossed the same wide seas you send us now to sail—be present when we reach the depths with strength that does not fail.”  Christ travelled a journey that he bids us to travel as well. A journey through the Cross, through death, and on to new life. Now you’re probably not going literally to suffer and die this Lent, but how about those “little deaths” that each of us ends up encountering or experiencing in life? For this, I offer you the 4^th Step of Humility from the Rule of Saint Benedict: “ . . . that under difficult, unfavorable, or even unjust conditions, his heart quietly embraces suffering and endures it without weakening or seeking escape.”  How might you apply that to your own life?

Please indulge me if I make just one tiny suggestion, and this is about casting your net abroad: Would you, could you invite someone you know to begin reading these reflections and get on the mailing list? I’d appreciate it.

God bless you.

The Hymn:

From shallow waters call us, Lord, from safety near the shore,

And bid us launch upon the depths where faith is tested more.

Let not past failures hope destroy nor caution paralyze,

But help us follow where you lead and wait for Love’s surprise.

We cannot fish the ocean’s depths with nets shrunk small by fear.

We need the gift of greater faith when we your summons hear.

And, if we plead unworthiness from what your call demands,

Then may we trust you’ll cleanse and calm our soiled, unsteady hands.

We dare to launch on unknown seas and cast our nets abroad,

For you have bid us grasp by faith the promises of God.

O Christ, you crossed the same wide seas you send us now to sail;

Be present when we reach the depths with strength that does not fail!

For neither fear nor scorn nor death could turn you back to land.

You knew no storms could carry you beyond your Father’s hand.

Your cross seemed but a fragile craft upon an angry sea,

Till Easter dawn brought light and peace through Love that sets us free!

Herman G. Stuempfle, Jr. 1973-2007. © 2006, GIA Publications, Inc.

All rights reserved. Used with permission.

For permission for congregational copies or digital projection,

call onelicense.net at 1-800-663-1501

You will be made worthy

Today I return to the hymn I posted a few days ago (which is repeated at the end of this reflection). Today we look at the second verse:

We cannot fish the ocean’s depth with nets shrunk by fear.

We need the gift of greater faith when we your summons hear.

And, if we plead unworthiness for what your call demands,

Then may we trust you’ll cleanse and calm our soiled, unsteady hands.

Just the other day we read about Peter falling at Jesus’ feet and saying “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.” Jesus didn’t even listen to his excuse—or rather, I should say, he looked beyond Peter’s excuse and could see just what sort of man Peter would become as a result of his discipleship and God’s grace.

Sometimes, I think, he looks beyond our excuses as well. When I first read this verse I couldn’t help thinking of Isaiah 6:1-8 which was the first reading the same day we read about Peter. Like Peter was fearful after hearing the Lord teach; Isaiah was given a vision of the glory of God, a vision that we recount when we sing the Sanctus at every Mass. His reaction was similar to Peter’s: “I am doomed! I am a man of unclean lips living among a people of unclean lips.” The Lord sent an angel to him with an ember from the altar and put it to his lips and declared that Isaiah was not cleansed and purged. Then the Lord asked, “Whom shall I send,” and Isaiah readily replied, “Send me.”

What is the basis or your unworthiness, your impurity, your sinfulness? Remember that God looks beyond all of that when He issues a summons to us, a summons that most often comes through the ordinary things in our lives, or a request for help from someone, or a need that we come to recognize as we grow in faith. Don’t let your excuses, or your Critic (see the reflections for 1/22 and 1/23) hold you back. Don’t let any of that “shrink your nets,” as the hymn so poetically says.

Answer the call. God will make you worthy. He will cleanse you. He will strengthen you. He will empower you. And in this, I speak from personal experience, from experiences that have happened over and over again in my life, in ways big and small.

God bless you.

The hymn:

From shallow waters call us, Lord, from safety near the shore,

And bid us launch upon the depths where faith is tested more.

Let not past failures hope destroy nor caution paralyze,

But help us follow where you lead and wait for Love’s surprise.

We cannot fish the ocean’s depths with nets shrunk small by fear.

We need the gift of greater faith when we your summons hear.

And, if we plead unworthiness from what your call demands,

Then may we trust you’ll cleanse and calm our soiled, unsteady hands.

We dare to launch on unknown seas and cast our nets abroad,

For you have bid us grasp by faith the promises of God.

O Christ, you crossed the same wide seas you send us now to sail;

Be present when we reach the depths with strength that does not fail!

For neither fear nor scorn nor death could turn you back to land.

You knew no storms could carry you beyond your Father’s hand.

Your cross seemed but a fragile craft upon an angry sea,

Till Easter dawn brought light and peace through Love that sets us free!

Herman G. Stuempfle, Jr. 1973-2007. © 2006, GIA Publications, Inc.

All rights reserved. Used with permission.

For permission for congregational copies or digital projection,

call onelicense.net at 1-800-663-1501

Does Lent make you grumpy?

Ash Wednesday

Blessed Lent to you! I’ll never forget my first Lent in the monastery. Filled with first fervor, I had put together a rigorous list of practices and sacrifices for the season (which I was not able to keep up for long). One of the things on the list was that I would give up desserts and pastry.

Well, one night the sisters who cooked for us (God bless their souls!) put out a tray of humongous glazed donuts. I looked at the tray wistfully, while also congratulating myself that I was being such a warrior for Lent.

One of the young monks got up and took a donut. I felt morally superior to him because I wasn’t indulging. (To tell the truth, I was also jealous).

A bit later, he got up to take a second donut. Now I really started getting judgmental and resentful at his hedonistic overindulgence.

And again, he got up to take a third donut. Now I got angry, not only at him, but at the whole monastic community for being so lax in their observance of this holy season. It put me into a really bad mood which lasted for the rest of the evening, and I was grumpy and irritable.

Before I fell asleep that night, it occurred to me (=the Holy Spirit enlightened me) that all my ascetical practices were of no use at all if they turned me into a grumpy, judgmental holier-than-thou person, filled with resentment. And so, I revised my list (and also snuck down into the kitchen to get one of the leftover donuts!)

The moral of the story is this: If we are going to offer something for Lent, we must do it with a cheerful and generous heart, and remember that it is a something that is meant to bring us closer to Christ. And the closer to Christ we get, the more we become patient, non-judgmental, loving, compassionate and kind.

Will you draw closer to Christ this Lent? You can measure the result by the good effects it has on you and your dealings with other people, even with monks who have a sweet tooth.

God bless you. 

Moving out of your comfort zone

Comments on the first verse of the hymn I posted yesterday (found at the end of this reflection):

Here’s the text of the first verse:

From shallow waters call us, Lord, from safety near the shore,

And bid us launch upon the depths where faith is tested more.

Let not past failures hope destroy nor caution paralyze,

But help us follow where you lead and wait for Love’s surprise.

Line 1: We have a natural tendency to stay within our “comfort zones,” those places where we find what is familiar and known to us, those routines and relationships that make up a regular part of our lives. And some of us get to remain there for a good chunk of time. But that is not always the way things stay when we open ourselves to the Lord’s action and grace in our lives. Just look at the story of the call of Simon (Peter) and James and John (Luke 5:1-11), and how their encounter with the Lord changed their entire lives. The Gospel reports it so simply: They left everything and followed him. The Scriptures are well populated with people who have had some sort of God-initiated life-changing encounters. Consider Abraham, Moses, Isaiah, David, all the apostles, the woman at the well and also people whose lives were changed because of a deep moment of forgiveness (the woman caught in adultery), or an experience of healing.

   Notice also that this line actually ASKS the Lord to initiate such a process in our own lives. As they say, be careful of what you ask for.

Line 2: Have you had such a life-changing event in your life? If you look carefully, you might discover just how much your life has been changed by some sort of event, or call, or yearning, or creative dream, or perhaps even the inspiration and strength to break free from a particular habit or condition of sin. And what happens when you make this move is that your faith, indeed, is tested, and as a result of that, your faith grows deeper as you discover that this change you are making is not something you are doing on your own, but that God is with you every step of the way.

Line 3: Our internal critic (or is it from the devil) tries to keep us back. “You’re not good enough,” it says, or “After all your sins, how could you possibly thing that God would want you for something like that,” or any other sort of distraction or detraction designed to prevent you from making the move or the change. Many attempts at creativity are often discouraged by critics around us. I like this quote to answer that situation: “Those who say it cannot be done shouldn’t interrupt the people doing it.” God is telling us: “Don’t play it safe. Don’t let your past sins discourage you. I have forgiven you and I want you to come with me to something I have prepared for you.”

Line 4: The most important word in this line is “surprise.” If you heed the call, whatever it may be, you will be surprised at what will happen. Guarantee. And note also, that the surprise comes from love. You are being called; you are being helped; your faith is growing stronger; and you will be surprised by the God-who-is-love who cares for you and who will send you everything you need as you continue on your journey.

God bless you.

The hymn:

From shallow waters call us, Lord, from safety near the shore,

And bid us launch upon the depths where faith is tested more.

Let not past failures hope destroy nor caution paralyze,

But help us follow where you lead and wait for Love’s surprise.

We cannot fish the ocean’s depths with nets shrunk small by fear.

We need the gift of greater faith when we your summons hear.

And, if we plead unworthiness from what your call demands,

Then may we trust you’ll cleanse and calm our soiled, unsteady hands.

We dare to launch on unknown seas and cast our nets abroad,

For you have bid us grasp by faith the promises of God.

O Christ, you crossed the same wide seas you send us now to sail;

Be present when we reach the depths with strength that does not fail!

For neither fear nor scorn nor death could turn you back to land.

You knew no storms could carry you beyond your Father’s hand.

Your cross seemed but a fragile craft upon an angry sea,

Till Easter dawn brought light and peace through Love that sets us free!

Herman G. Stuempfle, Jr. 1973-2007. © 2006, GIA Publications, Inc.

All rights reserved. Used with permission.

For permission for congregational copies or digital projection,

call onelicense.net at 1-800-663-1501

A prayer for a deeper faith

I found a hymn that I used at Mass yesterday because it was inspired by the Gospel of the call of Peter. Its text is rich and inspiring. I’m offering the entire text to you today for your meditation. If the Spirit so leads, I will be commenting on it over the next couple of days. But for today, just let the text touch you where it will. Here it is:

From shallow waters call us, Lord,

From safety near the shore,

And bid us launch upon the depths

Where faith is tested more.

Let not past failures hope destroy

Nor caution paralyze,

But help us follow where you lead

And wait for Love’s surprise.

We cannot fish the ocean’s depths

With nets shrunk small by fear.

We need the gift of greater faith

When we your summons hear.

And, if we plead unworthiness

From what your call demands,

Then may we trust you’ll cleanse and calm

Our soiled, unsteady hands.

We dare to launch on unknown seas

And cast our nets abroad,

For you have bid us grasp by faith

The promises of God.

O Christ, you crossed the same wide seas

You send us now to sail;

Be present when we reach the depths

With strength that does not fail!

For neither fear nor scorn nor death

Could turn you back to land.

You knew no storms could carry you

Beyond your Father’s hand.

Your cross seemed but a fragile craft

Upon an angry sea,

Till Easter dawn brought light and peace

Through Love that sets us free!

Herman G. Stuempfle, Jr. 1973-2007. © 2006, GIA Publications, Inc.

All rights reserved. Used with permission.

For permission for congregational copies or digital projection,

call onelicense.net at 1-800-663-1501

He will not give up on you

In today’s Gospel passage for Mass (Luke 5:1-11), Jesus calls Peter to be the first of his apostles. Peter, the fisherman: uneducated, poor, living a life of hard labor, and, by his own admission, a sinner. When he realized that he was in the presence of a great and holy man (the Gospel doesn’t tell us exactly what Peter thought of Jesus), he fell to his knees and cried out, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.” But Jesus didn’t depart. He had great love for the sinful man—great love for us sinners, as well—and he called him to become a member of his company.

Little did Peter know at that moment just how great was his destiny. Little did he know what he would be learning by following Jesus. Little did he know how he would be put to the test many times over the next three years. Little did he know how serious would be the sins he would commit even though he had been close to the Lord and tried to follow him.

And again, faced with a great sinner—one who had actually denied that he even knew Jesus, Jesus never rebukes him. Instead, he speaks of love: “Do you love me?” he asks Peter three times. (John 21:15-21)

So understand this: Your sin does not drive Jesus away, it brings him closer to you. Your sin does not cut you off from his love: in fact his love is even greater. Your sin doesn’t mean that you don’t love Jesus, either. Your failure doesn’t betray that love. And over and above all the sins you may have committed, no matter how despicable they may be—over and above all of that are the extended arms of Jesus ready to embrace you, to forgive you, and perhaps even challenge you to pick yourself up and follow him again. And despite all of your unworthiness, no matter how it is that you find yourself unworthy, he may want to use you to do great things in this world.

Peter cries, “Depart from me, Lord.” The Gospel—the Good News—is that he will not depart from you, no matter what. Cling to that hope.

God bless you.

You don't have to do it by yourself

From the Rule of Saint Benedict:

What is not possible to us by nature, let us ask the Lord to supply by the help of his grace. (Prologue:41)

I remember an old monk who often said, “All is grace, brothers, all is grace.”

Think of it: How have you gotten to where you are at this point in your life? Assuming that your own situation is good, and not lost in the mire of evil, we have to ask, “Did you do it with your own powers? Did it all depend on you alone? How about those times when God truly lifted you up and helped you to break through your own natural limitations to say or do or think something that you never would have dreamed you could say or do or think?”

In this passage, Benedict is consoling the monk who, having come to terms with what God is expecting of one who would be able to dwell with him “in his tent,” is tempted to turn away, knowing full well that what is asked of him is going to demand that he triumph over his own state in life, his natural tendencies, his weaknesses, his sinfulness, his resistance, his hesitation.

Think of the story of the young rich man who asked the Lord what he needed to do and the Lord told him to sell all his possessions and give to the poor and then come and follow him. Do you remember that the young man “turned away sadly” because he didn’t think himself capable of doing what the Lord asked of him? His richness, and his clinging to it, was a barrier that he didn’t think himself capable of surmounting. And he was right. By himself, he could not make the leap into a new life, and he didn’t seem to realize that he wouldn’t have to do it on his own. And so he turned away. (Matthew 19:16-22)  I guess he didn’t know the psalms well enough. Psalm 18:

You, O Lord, are my lamp,

my God who lightens my darkness.

With you I can break through any barrier,

with my God I can scale any wall. (Psalm 18:29-30)

(I love it when we pray those verses at Morning Prayer!)

What makes you or me turn away from what God is asking us? Why do we hesitate? What do we resist? If we could only realize that at all times God’s love and grace are within us and that we can turn within to claim the power he gives to us, a power that we don’t necessarily deserve! Never forget that: Grace is not something you earn: it is a freely given gift from God.

We forget this so easily, my friends. We simply forget. We try to do too much on our own.

Stop it. Claim the grace that is there for you, especially during any moment of challenge or trial. What is not yours by nature, let God help you with his grace.

God bless you!

Purify your prayer

Aldous Huxley once said, “The more there is of self, the less there is of God.” (from The Perennial Philosophy (1945) * but I don’t remember where)

Saint Augustine wrote in his Confessions, “You were with me, but I was not with you.” (10.38)

SO: When we pray, can we lay aside all earthly cares and simply be with God? It is difficult, to be sure,  since there are so many cares of the day, and there are so many people who have asked for our prayers and who need our prayers. And these cares and needs can distract us, and even though we are in a posture of prayer, our minds are still spinning. When I try to pray for Aunt Lucy, I start thinking about her and the trouble she is in, or I think of my brother-in-law’s cancer, or my mind keeps running a tape recorder the replays over and over the dispute I had at work just a few hours ago. But I don’t think I need to go on: I’ll be you know exactly what I mean and that these things happen to you as well.

Is there any solution or remedy to this? I believe there is. And I’ll bet you known where I’m heading, especially if you’ve been reading these Reflections regularly. My answer: meditation or contemplative prayer.

When we meditate, we begin to separate ourselves from the cares of the day and from earthly matters. We let the thoughts which come to our mind simply pass through our minds without engaging us. We seek a pure experience, a time of being alone with God, being in touch with God who always is within us. We let go of everything else.

A couple of personal observations

·         I find it helpful to use a mantra. It can be the Jesus Prayer, or simply a single word that I keep saying in my mind. I often start with the Jesus Prayer (Lord Jesus Christ, son of the living God, have mercy on me a sinner) and then when I’m more settled, I reduce it to just two words: Jesus on the inhalation, mercy on the exhalation.

·         I find that when I get away from my mind’s chatter and spend time in pure contemplative prayer, the situations I didn’t think about start transforming without my rattling on about them. God know the situation. God will take care of it, because he always supplies what I need.

·         I don’t do any intercessory prayer at the time of contemplation. I save that for after my period of contemplation (usually 20 minutes) comes to an end. By doing this, I find that I can pray for Aunt Lucy without thinking about Aunt Lucy’s situation.

·         I never ask or tell God what to do. I hold the person in my heart (where the Spirit resides) and leave it at that. God will deal with things in his way, which is always so much better than my way.

I hope this gives you some ideas about your own prayer.

God bless you.

* The Wikipedia article about The Perennial Philosophy gives an excellent description of what it means, and also outlines Huxley’s book of the same name. It’s worth looking up if you have a few minutes to devote to it.