The Rosebush

The Rosebush (a reflection on a writing of Hildegard of Bingen)

Hildegard: “I’ll accept the thorns that give off the delicate fragrance of roses. They grew to honor the One who was faithful, and by controlling myself, I’ll give honor to my Lord.”

What are these thorns

that give off a delicate fragrance?

Might they be

the thorns that formed the crown

that Our Savior wore

on the day of His passion?

We know what sweetness came

                from the agony He endured that day.

Might they be

the thorns of our own pain

and agony, or even our mere discomfort

when things don’t go our way?

For when those thorns

are united to His Passion,

all the ill we bear

will in its time become

sweetness and delight,

such as we might already have

tasted during

seasons of grace?

Might they be

the sins that overcome us and baffle us?

We’ve been told that

our sinfulness draws Christ

to us, He Who died for us

“while we were yet sinners.”

He comes to us

and the sweet fragrance of His grace,

delicate as it is,

overwhelms our shame

our discouragement

our frustration

our unworthiness,

and give us the encouragement we need

to set out sights

on the way that leads to His honor.

And you?

What might your thorns be?

And how does your Lord

                turn them into roses?

God bless you! Have a nice weekend.

Getting more value out of life

Thursday, September 28, 2017

(The first reading for today’s Mass)  The prophet Haggai delivers a message that we can also take to heart:

Now thus says the Lord of hosts: Consider your ways! You have sown much but have brought in little; you have eaten, but have not been satisfied; you have drunk, but have not been exhilarated; have clothed yourselves, but not been warmed; and whoever earned wages earned them for a bag with holes in it. (Haggai 1:7-8)

How little satisfaction we often derive from the stuff of life is we do not learn to stop and savor the good things we are given with gratitude in our hearts! Until we live united with God’s plan for us we go through the motions with our senses numb and our toil fruitless----that is until the great and awesome moment comes when our eyes are opened and we realize that God has something planned for us that will bring us more joy and satisfaction than we can even imagine before the time of our conversion.

Haggai’s words bring a few images to mind: the glutton who no longer tastes or enjoys what he consumes (consider how often people at a meal will discuss other meals they have eaten and fail to savor what is on their plates before them.) The drunkard who sinks into a mire of depressive, miserable and angry thoughts; the fashionista whose fetish for the latest styles no longer simply dresses for comfort; the consumerist who “spends his wages for what fails to satisfy” (Isaiah 55:2)

Might I suggest that we consider those times when we simply skim the surface of life and fail to live reflectively, devoutly and deeply? Haggai spoke to the people of Israel because God was calling them to rebuild the temple—a work which would bring Him glory and also bring meaning into their lives. Perhaps Haggai’s message might prompt us to make some changes in our lives in accord with what we discern that God may be calling us to?

God bless you!

Look at your face

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

From yesterday’s Gospel. Jesus said, “No one who lights a lamp conceals it with a vessel or sets it under a bed; rather he places it on a lampstand so that those who enter may see the light.” (Luke 8:16)

In a spiritual sense, we’ve been given so much light in our lives and in our hearts as we draw close to Jesus in our prayer and our worship, in our reading and study of the Gospels, in the psalms we pray and the candles we light, in the freedoms that we enjoy and the ongoing work of grace that continually helps us to know and to understand things we could only dream of in the past.

There are so many people in the world who suffer from a lack of light. People who have to toil in the dark, prisoners, people whose horizons are darkened through pain and anguish or by sin, people living under oppressive and violent governments, those who are blind (either physically or metaphorically), victims of abuse and neglect of all kinds, and all those who suffer in body, mind or spirit.

How can we give away the light that we have? There’s one thing about light: it isn’t weakened if it is shared; it can’t be diminished by giving it away. Think of the beginning of the Nicene Creed: God from God, light from light . . .

Can people receive light from us? Are there things we can do and ways we can act that share light? Can people see light when they read the words we have written or listen to the music we are making, or simply by looking at our faces? Stand in front of a mirror and look closely at your face: what does your usual face at rest look like? Is it frowning and dark? Is your smile a source of light that you can give away? . . . . . things to think about.

I was moved by a few words I read in a meditation by Steven Taylor (The Calm Center): “try to illuminate the darkness that still fills the lives of others.”

Whom do you need to pray for today, tonight, tomorrow?

Pause

Monday, September 25, 2017

Invariably, the topic for my daily reflection is given to me. I do the work of preparation which includes prayer and spiritual reading; I write in my journal (which I strongly recommend); I ask for guidance; I watch and wait. Sometimes it comes very quickly. Sometimes it takes longer, which is why some of my reflections are posted later in the day. Often it comes from unexpected sources. Thank you, Lord.

For today’s reflection I offer you something that I saw posted on Facebook. I hope you find it as helpful as I do.

Practice the pause. When in doubt, pause. When angry, pause. When tired, pause. When stressed, pause. And when you pause, pray.

Have a nice day! God bless you!

Cry from the heart

I always love it when I get a sign that “someone up there” is looking out for me. Case in point: this morning I went to the monastic library to select a volume from the Fathers of the Church series for my spiritual reading. I was looking especially for a book of homilies on  the psalms. I found a volume of St. Jerome’s homilies and decided I would give it a try. I brought it down to my room and when I opened the book I found a hidden bookmark which was a reproduction of one of my favorite paintings, in fact, one that hangs on the wall of my office. God-incidence! So I guess the book is meant for me.

Today I found a quotation from St. Jerome that helped shed light on many psalms: “The word ‘cry’ in Scripture does not refer to the cry of the voice, but to the cry of the heart.”

This teaching can help us find more personal connections to the psalm texts. Consider these verses from Psalm 55:

As for me, I will cry to God,

and the Lord will save me.

Evening, morning, and at noon,

I will cry and lament,

and he will hear my voice. (Psalm 55:17-18)

Let your heart sing out to the Lord and tell him what you need now, and now, and now.

God bless you! Have a nice weekend.

Jesus doesn't exclude

Thursday, September 21, 2017

The Feast of Saint Matthew

From the Gospel of the day (Matthew 9:9-13):

I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.

Jesus was severely criticized by the “upright” religious leaders of His time. He associated with the types of people that were scorned, despised, judged, excluded and ostracized. Tax collectors, prostitutes, the despised Roman soldiers (consider the centurion whose servant he healed), the downtrodden and outcast, the lepers, the blind, the lame, those possessed by demons, notorious sinners of all stripes. He ate with them, He healed them, He brought them Good News, He comforted them, He drew them to himself, He touched the untouchables, He fed the starving. He looked on them as sheep without a shepherd and His heart reached out to them again and again and again.

There is a tendency in religion to exclude, to judge who is worthy and who is unworthy, to create “black sheep” by imposing codes of conduct which broken humanity is so often incapable of living up to. I once heard a woman tell me that she couldn’t go to Mass anymore because whenever she did, she was disgusted by all the people in “mortal sin” who were going up to receive communion. I asked her when God gave her the ability to look into other people’s souls and to judge. In her obsession to exclude the people around her she ended up excluding herself. But religion is full of people like that. Even priests, bishops and cardinals are so often tempted to exclude as well. And sometimes we can be like that ourselves.

Jesus breaks down those walls and barriers and extends His arms in welcome. You may not agree with me, but I strongly believe that when Jesus extended his arms on the cross it was to welcome into his embrace everyone, even the men who had pounded the nails into his hands and feet, even the terrorist who was hanging on the cross beside him. Jesus does not exclude me in my sinfulness and therefore, if I read the Gospels correctly, I in turn must not exclude anyone else.

Pope Francis, on his first Holy Thursday as pope, went and washed the feet of prisoners, some of whom weren’t even Catholic or weren’t even Christian. Some of them were even female, something which would have been unthinkable just 20 years ago. People whose feet were actually dirty. I remember one time I was invited to have my feet washed, and I made sure, before attending the service, that my feet were very clean. I suspect everyone with me that day had also done the same. But the Holy Father chose not to kneel before the well-washed, but rather to kneel and minister to imprisoned young men and women, many of whom (I suspect) had never even had an encounter with a truly holy man until that day. It pains me so terribly to realize that there are cardinals in the Church these days who scorn and criticize Pope Francis as he extends his arms to welcome the unwelcomed in imitation of his Savior.

If you were alive in Jesus’ time, would you have been able to sit with Jesus at the table in Matthew’s house that day, or would you have stood outside with a scornful look on your face? This, in my humble opinion, is an important question for each of us to ask ourselves.

God bless you!

Don't be like these people!

I’m a bit pressed for time today so this will be brief. I encourage you to read today’s Gospel for yourself: (Luke 7:31-35).

Here is my take on that passage. It seems to me that Jesus upbraids two different types of people.

The first type are those who fail to respond appropriately to whatever the circumstances call for. Quick example: You are joyful, and someone throws a pail of water over you; you are sorrowing and another is completely insensitive to your pain.

The second type are those who tend to find fault in any circumstance, especially when the people are involved are those they dislike. For proof of this, simply follow the trends in current American political discourse, or read the (ugh!) comments posted about almost any subject on Facebook or other websites. Or go back and read the Gospel.

Have a nice day. God bless you!

A Lamentation

A Lamentation

                inspired by a conversation with a struggling soul

I wait for God

to clean my house

for I cannot

do it myself

for reasons

I do not understand

and so

I make excuses

and keep putting off

the work

that my soul needs done,

hoping and pleading

for magic and miracle

to sweep me clean

even as I

bring in

even more dust from the streets.

I sing with the Saint

“Not yet! Not yet!”

and another Saint consoles me:

I do not do the good I want,

but the evil I do not want is what I do. (Rom 7:19)

That wretch is a saint!

It’s okay to be a wretch,

for now,

I conclude,

and look to the One

whose mercy

is so much greater

than my messy house.

Thanks be to God

through Jesus Christ our Lord! (Rom 7:25)

Snippets: Rumi, Jesus, Cardinal Sarah

Monday, September 18, 2017

Some snippets from my reading this weekend:

The poet Rumi:                

Humble living does not diminish. It fills.

Going back to a simpler self gives wisdom.

Jesus Christ: He who loses his life for my sake will find it.

Rumi:

                When you prune weak branches, the remains fruit get tastier.

Jesus: I am the true vine and my Father is the vinegrower. . . . Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.  (John 15:1,2)

And here is something from Robert Cardinal Sarah (The Power of Silence). Cardinal Sarah is very conservative and challenging and sometimes he comes across as rather severe and judgmental. See what you make of this:

“The narcissism of excessive speech is a temptation from Satan. It results in a form of detestable exteriorization, in which man wallows on the surface of himself, making noise so as not to hear God.” (p. 194)

God bless you!

A prayer to Our Lady of Sorrows

Friday, September 15, 2017

Our Lady of Sorrows

O Blessed Mother Mary,

bearer of the greatest sorrow

a mother can endure,

nestle within your immaculate grieving heart

the hearts of all mothers who weep

this day,

whether from loss or from concern,

mothers of daughters and mothers of sons

   who have died

   who have gone astray,

mothers of children threatened by the harmful people and things

     that sit as predators, waiting to devour

     the bodies and souls of their dearest ones.

                Take them to your heart, O Mary,

                and present them to your Son

                not so much as sinners, but rather as victims of the evil

                                that ravages the world.

You wept as your Son died on the Cross

even though you knew His dying was not in vain.

Assure mothers who turn to you that the victory will be won

even while they fear that all hope is lost.

Holy Mary, Mother of God,

pray for us sinners

now and forever,

especially those who grieve

as you did on that day. Amen.

The Critic

Thursday, September 14, 2017

The Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross

“For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.” (John 3:16)

Once we discover our ability to observe our thoughts from outside of them (see the last two Reflections), we become aware that many of our thoughts actually do condemn us. This negative self-talk tells us that we are not good enough, that our ideas are worthless, that we are unworthy, inadequate, insufficient, incapable, guilty. They become part of an ever-flowing stream of criticism that somehow got recorded onto our internal tape recorder by parents, teachers, toxic friends, those who teased us, etc. In “The Calm Center,” Steve Taylor has a good description of what I call the Critic. He calls it “The Great Dictator”

“who controlled your life

standing at your shoulder, judging and criticizing,

interfering with ever impulse

distorting every situation.”  (P. 62)

You know that voice well. And as you advance in silent meditation, you become more aware of just how insidious it is, how ever-present, and how destructive to your peace of mind, your creativity and how it can even cause you to forget that God loves you and that Jesus has been sent into the world to save you.

The remedy? Well, recognizing it for what it is is the first all-important step. If possible, you can dialogue with it, telling it that it lies, telling it to go away, telling it that you are wise to it. As I mentioned yesterday, fixing your attention on “things above” is a great way to get free of the Critic. Also, looking to images of the Cross, or sacred icons, or fingering your rosary beads, is a good way to get free from this false voice of condemnation.

The first reading for today’s Mass (Numbers 21:4b-9) tells us how the people of Israel were tormented by saraph serpents whose bite was fatal. God had Moses erect a pole with a serpent on it, and anyone who was bitten could look at the pole and be healed. This pole was a type (or symbol) of what would become the Cross of the Crucified Jesus. Looking at the crucifix brings healing from any “bite” that might be inflicted on us by the Serpent (also a type of Satan).

Silence before a crucifix is a great means of healing. Taylor’s meditation concludes:

“Perhaps the dictator will return to power

or another madman will replace him

but now that you’ve sensed the silence

now that you know how spacious and still you are

life will never be the same.

The dictator will never completely control you again;

a part of you will always be beyond his reach.

Freedom will always glimmer inside you.” (p. 63)

Jesus brings not condemnation, not the Critic, but healing and salvation. All praise be to Him.

God bless you!

A holy form of mind control

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

From today’s first reading: “Since you were raised with Christ, seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Think of what is above, not of what is on earth.” (Colossians 3:1-2)

Yesterday we contemplated the scene when Jesus spent the night alone with His Father in prayer. At the time, I observed what happened to me, and probably to you, by focusing my attention on that one detail of the Gospel:

“Whenever I set my mind on it, a sense of calm comes over me and at the same time arises from within me, and so this is a wonderful place to begin a time of prayer. Even as I type these words, that calmness is with me, and I hope you can sense it as well.”

Once we have begun to understand that we are not our thoughts, but rather the thinkers of our thoughts, we are able to separate from them a bit and observe them as then enter our minds. At that moment, we have a choice: either let them pass through, or entertain them and have them control us as they carry us off to whatever direction they demand. When the former happens, we are free and have a measure of control; when the latter happens, we are controlled by out thoughts, and often end up in an unpleasant mood.

You already know this. You know there are certain “tapes” your mind plays that lead you into rehashing bad memories, entertaining dark emotions, obsessing over what is in the past to the point where you lose all sense of what is in the present. Sometimes this is called “daydreaming.” Sometimes it is harmless although trivial; sometimes it is toxic: Notice what happens in your body and in your emotions when you allow certain "tapes” to play in your mind and ruin your otherwise pleasant experience.

If you understand this, and are willing to work with it, then the passage from Colossians that I quoted above can make sense in a new and powerful way. What it invites us to do is to choose to reflect on eternal matters rather than what is mundane, boring, hurtful or even sinful.

Moreover, you can collect certain words and phrases that prompt you to stay in holy space, things such as “Help me, Jesus,” or the Hail Mary, or turning over in your mind a particular scene from the Gospel or a turn of phrase like “seek what is above.” You can even use music to help redirect your focus. I have a particular song running through my mind today. It’s from a choral peace called “In Memory of You.” What I hear playing in my mind is simply this phrase: “Lord Jesus, you are here with us.” It keeps my mind focused on “things above” and quiets earthly thoughts.

Try it.

God bless you!

Jesus at Prayer

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Today’s Gospel passage tells us that “Jesus spent the night in prayer to God.” I’ve often wondered what that must have been like, and so what I reflect on today is purely speculative for the most part, and I invite you to do the same as well—to just spend some time imagining or “picturing” that scene.

--Whenever I set my mind on it, a sense of calm comes over me and at the same time arises from within me, and so this is a wonderful place to begin a time of prayer. Even as I type these words, that calmness is with me, and I hope you can sense it as well.

--I imagine it was prayer without words. I know that when Jesus actually did speak words to the Father, or the Father to Him, it was recorded for us in the Gospels and was always for our own benefit. But when Jesus was lost in prayer to the Father alone, I think it was wordless, for they could communicate to one another simply by being present to one another. Even the word “communicate” is insufficient to describe what was taking place; it was, and is, simply too far beyond us for us to describe it in merely human language.

--I imagine is was simply a time of being. Aliveness and presence, union and overflowing love, and since that love would be so strong, the Holy Spirit was also present. This scene is Trinitarian, in the fullest sense of the word. (And where the Trinity is present, so are we as well. See Richard Rohr’s book “The Divine Dance” for more about this.)

--I wonder about time, or rather about timelessness. Were they residing in what was, what is, and what will be, all at once? I’ve mentioned in other reflections that time is not linear, but rather that it folds in on itself, and this would certainly be “timeless,” so to speak. Once again I am aware that human language is so inadequate to describe what was taking place that night when He was lost in prayer.

--When I was younger, I used to think that Jesus was asking His Father about whom He would select to be an apostle, but I don’t think that way any more. I know from personal experience that when I’ve had to make decisions or approach a problem and I spent time in meditative prayer beforehand, the answers I sought would simply manifest themselves at the proper time without my having to do much to think about what I was going to do. And now I imagine the same thing happening: Jesus spent the night in prayer to the Father, and after that time was over, He simply acted. Try it yourself. Don’t think about a problem or even speculate about it in prayer; simply rest in contemplative peace and the answers will come when you need them to.

--Sometimes when I consider Jesus praying to the Father, I go back to John 17, where we have the most explicit example of the content and substance of His prayer as both human and divine. I encourage you to do the same this day.

Finally, I must say what an extraordinary gift it is to be drawn to focus on these issues, bringing both joy and peace to an extent far greater than any worldly matter or consideration can afford us. I hope that you may perhaps experience the same gift yourself.

God bless you!

Stretch out!

The Gospel of the day for Monday of the 23^rd Week in Ordinary Time: Luke 6:1-11

A Brief Synopsis:

Jesus is teaching in the synagogue. A man is there who has a withered hand. Jesus calls him forward and he stands before the Lord, who commands: Stretch out your hand. The man does so and his hand is completely restored.

Reflection:

Could it be that the Lord is calling you today to

STRETCH OUT?

In what way? Take a slow careful look at the state of your being this day, and see if his command addresses any part within you. Ask him for help that you might see. And if you do identify something that is withered within you, ask Him to help you stretch it out in a way which is appropriate for you at this time in your life.

Consider also these questions posed by Steve Taylor in his meditative book “The Calm Center”:

How will you know how strong you are unless your strength is tested?

How will you know how deep you are unless turmoil breaks your surface and forces you to dive?

How will you know what sleeps inside until the whole of you is challenged to wake up?

God bless you!

A Litany inspired by 9/11

Monday, September 11, 2017

This is an extended reflection in two parts. The first part is a litany for 9/11. The second is a commentary on the Gospel of the day. Both parts are being posted separately, and yet there is a subtle relationship between the two.

I.

The world was changed on September 11, 2001, and not for the better. Since then we have been undergoing a time of trial and suffering, and in so many instances, the feeble attempts of those in power have only served to increase the trials and the suffering for so many in so many parts of the world.

Lord, have mercy on us; Lord, come to our aid; Lord, heal us.

Hatred and revenge have broken through any barriers that charity and peace would have wanted to erect, and it is something we live with every day. “He who lives by the sword will die by the sword” is one Biblical teaching that has not been heeded, and the cost has been uncalculablely horrifying.

Lord, have mercy on us; Lord, come to our aid; Lord, heal us.

Over the past two years or so in the USA, and most especially since the rise of Donald Trump, hatred, bigotry and violence have become normalized that the darkest parts of men’s souls have been brought out into the daylight with a force not seen since the rise of Nazi Germany in the last century.

Lord, have mercy on us; Lord, come to our aid; Lord, heal us.

And how about y-o-u? How have the events of the past 16 years--and most especially the events of the past year—how have these things affected you? What have they possibly been done to your soul?

Lord, have mercy on us; Lord, come to our aid; Lord heal us.

May God have mercy on us and bless us all in the ways that only He knows we need.

The Mystery of Mary

Friday, September 08, 2017

The Feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary

This is a special kind of feast because on one way it marks the beginning of our story of salvation. There’s nothing Biblical about it, but Catholics do not rely only on the Bible, but also on the Church’s Traditional ways of thinking about things, and on the subsequent reflections based on extensive meditation of the “mysteries” of our faith. I’ll say a bit more about “mystery” a bit below.

This morning I found myself reflecting on the fact that the Blessed Mother was sinless since the moment of her conception (we celebrate that reality as the Feast of the Immaculate Conception on December 8). If the second person of the Trinity was going to “dwell among us” in human form, he had to take on the flesh of a perfect human being. Mary’s birth brought that human being into the world and we like to refer to her as spotless, pure, holy and immaculate. And so it all begins.

One more thing: since all flesh was corrupted by the Fall, and therefore born with orginal sin, it was necessary that all sin be wiped away through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. And so, if Mary was born without the taint of original sin, it is because of the freedom and grace won by the very death and Resurrection of the One who was going to be born of her.

Mind-boggling? Of course. In the divine dispensation, time isn’t linear. It folds in on itself making this extraordinary tale possible. And for me, I celebrate the Nativity of the Virgin Mary along with Easter Sunday since the two events touch one another in this cosmic realm of time folding back on itself.

Perhaps, like the psalmist, you’d like to cry: “Such knowledge is too much for me, so far beyond my understanding!” (Psalm 139:6).

That brings us to the concept of mystery, which, by the way, is another of the first concepts I used to bring to the attention of my creativity students in the past.

In spiritual terms, a “mystery” is not a puzzle to be solved. A mystery is a reality which is so far beyond our own ability to comprehend it that it will forever remain something for study, awe and veneration, and as time goes by, we form little bits of understanding about it according to our own level of advancement in the faith. Listen to what Cardinal Sarah says about it (“The Power of Silence”):

“The mystery of God, his incomprehensibility, is the source of joy for every Christian. Every day we rejoice to contemplate an unfathomable God, whose mystery will never be exhausted. The eternity of heaven itself will be the joy, ever new, of entering more profoundly into the divine mystery without ever exhausting it.” (p. 126)

Wonderful things to snuggle into. I hope my imperfect attempt to put the mystery into words has not made it even more difficult for you to comprehend, even if you don’t understand it completely! But as the good cardinal explains, “how small God would be if we understood him?”

Have a nice weekend.

God bless you!

Against the tyranny of thoughts

Thursday, September 7, 2017

Before I retired back in 2015 I used to teach a course called “Creativity for Artists, Writers and Musicians” in the Fine Arts department of my college. The course was quite popular, and it was designed to be a transformative experience for the students who took it. Many still write me to let me know how much influence it has had on their ongoing lives. I thought it might be good for me to include some of its materials in my regular reflections, since that material was designed to foster spiritual development as well as creative and artistic development. This is the first installment.

One of the very first concepts I introduced in the course was a simple sentence that I wrote on the blackboard without explanation:

You are not your thoughts.

This also happens to be one of the first things we learn when we begin to practice meditation. We sit in stillness and simply observe what develops as we try to bring our minds to silence while focusing on our breathing.

A continual stream of varied thoughts passes through our minds, and for once we choose to simply let them pass like a train passing through a station. As we observe the thoughts but don’t get involved in following them wherever they take us, we discover a certain freedom—the freedom to choose whether or not to entertain them or to be dragged here and there by the content of the thoughts. In doing this, we discover that it is true: we are not our thoughts. We are the thinkers of the thoughts, and we can indeed allow them to pass through us.

More thoughts will follow, as if there were a tape recorder running in our heads which can’t be turned off. Or can it? Even momentarily. Just bring your attention back to your breath.

Silence is so important for us, so that we can get free of the dominating force that overwhelms us and brings us to places where we would often prefer not to go. In the silence, we can rest and experience freedom from the noise of the world, and from the noise of our own minds.

Proverbs 11:12    “an intelligent person remains silent”

Aim for that intelligence.

God bless you!

Reminders in time of trial

Wednesday, September 06, 2017

Psalm study today:

Psalm 55. Again, an appeal for protection against enemies. The psalmist’s pain is increased because he has been betrayed by someone who had once been his friend: “If an enemy made taunts against me, I could bear it. If my rival had risen against me, I could hide from him. But it is you, as my equal, my friend, whom I knew so well. . . We walked together in harmony in the house of God.” (v 14-15)

So great is the pain of him who sings this psalm, and there are times when we can share in that pain because we have experienced it ourselves. If we haven’t had such an agonizing experience, we can at least pray for someone who is writhing in pain at the very moment we pray the psalm.

The one who cries out in pain does so continually, placing his hope in God who he believes will hear him.

As for me, I will cry to God,

and the Lord will save me.

Evening, morning, and at noon,

I will  cry and lament,

and he will hear my voice.

He will redeem my soul in peace

in the attack against me. (17-19a)

God always brings us to peace, sometimes very quickly, or sometimes after an extended period of timing. But peace is God’s aim for us. Perhaps you remember the songs of Advent which name Jesus as the “Prince of Peace.” (from Isaiah the prophet).

Here is yet one more affirmation of faith, one which we have come to know in our own journeys:

Entrust your cares to the Lord,

and he will support you.

He will never allow

the just man to stumble. (v. 23)

Why is it, I wonder, that we need to be reminded of that so often, that sometimes when the going gets rough we might momentarily forget that God is indeed holding us up, here and now, in this place and in this particular circumstance? I am grateful to God for sending me so many gentle assurances, day by day, especially when I read and pray the psalms.

How about you?

God bless you!

Stripping away

Tuesday, September 05, 2017

Over the Labor Day Weekend I had a chance to listen to an intriguing piece of music. It’s a orchestral symphony by Richard Strauss entitled “Tod und Verklärung” (“Death and enlightenment”). It spoke to me of the spiritual journey.

Now this is my own interpretation, not the one provided by music critics:

I heard a man desperately clinging to life, not wanting to let go. Finally the separation takes place and he is reborn into a new realm of existence and enlightenment and the peace and repose is unlike anything he had ever known.

The music spoke to me of a process which we all have to undergo, sometimes many times, in our lives, especially as we seek to grow spiritually. The process is the process of a potter making and remaking a lump of clay. Christ speaks about it himself when we reminds us, as he did in Sunday’s gospel passage, that we must die for Him in order to save our lives.

This dying constitutes a separation from us. Something that we had thought to be part of our true selves ends up being stripped from us. The stripping is painful, but at the end of it we find a peace we hadn’t known until undergoing the process.

Spiritual writers frequently refer to this as the “paschal mystery,” the passage from Good Friday to Easter Sunday.

Consider, if you will, the suffering people in Houston who have just undergone a catastrophic separation from all they knew and are thrust into a new way of living, as yet to be determined. My prayer for these people is that they are given the strength to bear the suffering that has been thrust upon them, and that they do indeed discover a new life that is waiting for them on the other side of the waters.

Won’t you pray for them with me?

God bless you!

psalm 53: the power of the Name

Friday, September 01, 2017

We haven’t done a psalm study in quite some time. Let’s turn our attention today to Psalm 53. The filter we are using in our study is “how God cares for us.”

Psalm 53 is a plea to be saved from enemies. It is a psalm of David, who at the time was hiding from Saul who sought to kill him. Dire straits indeed.

O God, save me by your name;

by your power, defend my cause.

O God, hear my prayer;

give ear to the words of my mouth.

Remember that David would be singing these words accompanied by stringed instruments. Never forget that the psalms are meant to be sung. The book of Psalms is the hymn-book of the Israelites. You might try singing them yourself (when you are alone). Any simple melody will do; keep it simple. If you want, simply sing the words to a single note. (That is done in some monasteries, by the way.)

Why sing? Because it involves the whole body. Singing also activates parts of the brain that are not activated by speaking, and brain researchers tell us that singing does the brain a lot of good. But I’m getting off track here. What would you expect from a musician?!

So what cause of yours do you need God to defend? Hopefully, there is no one seeking your life, although these days we are becoming more and more aware of so many innocent people losing their lives due to the violence and hatred in the world and even in our American society. So perhaps your cause might simply be your own safety.

The Psalm concludes this way:

I will sacrifice to you with willing heart,

and praise your name, for it is good:

for it has rescued me from all distress,

and my eyes have gazed upon my foes. (vv 8-9)

Once again, I ask: who are your foes? Perhaps they are people, but more than likely they are interior foes: temptations, addictions, weaknesses of body or character, shortcomings, memories which torment us, things which push our buttons. Perhaps you can think of foes that are more personal to you.

Note also that it is the name that has been the cause of the rescue. The name of God, the name of Jesus, or the names of the saints, or of the Blessed Mother, are all things that strengthen us and heal us and protect us. Repeat them often and be sure not to take the name of Jesus or of Christ in vain.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about using the rosary as a meditative tool, simply repeating the name of Jesus on each bead. I’ve been doing that, and I’ve found it to be very helpful, particularly in times of distress. Repeating the Name helps us calm down, get free of the constant turmoil of that tape recorder that is constantly running in our heads, and helps lead to a beautiful silence that resides beneath the Name we call upon.

Have a nice weekend.

God bless you!