Hear Him call you by name

I found a hymn that is meant to be sung to accompany the story of the Prodigal Son (which is the Gospel passage for the 4^th Sunday of Lent, Year C).

As you probably have noticed, I base a lot of my reflections on hymn texts, since I am a musician, and since I believe that a great many hymn texts are good teaching tools and provide a poetic interpretation of good theology.

The first verse of the hymn is as follows:

Our Father, we have wandered and hidden from your face;

In foolishness have squandered your legacy of grace.

But now, in exile dwelling, we rise with fear and shame,

As, distant but compelling, we hear you call our name.

(Kevin Nichols, 1929-2006 © 1980, ICEL. Used with permission.)

The whole text could be a prayer uttered by the Prodigal Son when he was still wallowing in a misery he had created for himself (do we do that sometimes?). In fact, the second verse mentions calf and robe and ring.

By praying the hymn text, we become the Prodigal Son. We have foolishly squandered our legacy, a legacy filled with blessings which we did not receive because of our own stubbornness, ignorance and misdeeds. Oh, what our lives might have been like if we had been open to all of the graces that the Lord has tried to send us! Oh, what our lives might become if we remain open and faithful from this point on and waste nothing of what we have been given. The prophet Isaiah cries out to us, Why do you spend your wages on what fails to satisfy? (Isaiah 55:2) and then he exhorts us: Eat what is good and delight yourself in abundance.”

I also hear an echo in this poem of the plight of Adam and Eve, hidden from God because they realized they were naked, and then thrust into exile. Are we in exile as well? And how is it that we are in exile?

The Prodigal Son, while lost in his sinfulness, still hears the faint voice of his father calling for him. The voice is distant but compelling, the hymn says. I am reminded of John the Baptist in prison and how Herod found something compelling about his preaching, but was afraid to draw near and heed. Is the Lord trying to say something to us which we are not ready to hear?

But yet, God is calling us by name, and continues to call us by name until at last we let go and surrender ourselves into his arms. The Son felt fear and dread about what his fate would be. We have no reason to fear. Christ died for us while we were at the lowest point in our lives, that our sins might be wiped away in his blood. What do we have to fear other than our own resistance?

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.

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

Healing the past

Spiritual growth can sometimes be the cause of great but worthwhile pain. The other day a friend was telling me how he remembered something he had done years ago before his spiritual awakening, and how he had never realized until now just how terrible a thing it had been and how it has caused pain for others. His new realization really hurt.

I recalled similar experiences I have had where the insight of the present opened my eyes to see with horror just how serious the sins of the past had been, but how at the time I was oblivious to the wrong I was doing.

Again, a painful experience—but at the same time a healing experience, because it gives new depth of meaning to the Jesus Prayer: Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner. The pain of the realization is actually a gift of grace from the Lord. Healing is often painful.

What more could I say about this to my friend, I wondered. Well, at Lauds this morning I received an answer as we prayed a passage from Isaiah 38. I’m not sure where this particular translation came from, but it is the one we have in our office books and it was just what I needed and so another gift of grace from the Lord. Here’s the passage:

For you, Lord, my heart will live,

You gave me back my spirit;

You cured me, kept me alive,

Changed my sickness into health.

And you have held back my life

From the pit of doom.

You have cast far from your sight

Every one of my sins. (Isaiah 38: 16-17)

There is a final verse of the passage which has particular meaning for monks:

O Lord, come to our rescue

And we shall sing psalms

All the days of our life

In the house of the Lord.

I thank God that he has set me in a place where this verse is a daily reality.

God bless you.

You are loved, no matter what

The Book of Consolation: Isaiah 43:1-4

Before I entered the monastery, I worked for a man who wasn’t very nice. I’m not going to say more about that, because I have forgiven that man a long time ago.

One day I was preparing to meet with him to tell him that I was planning to enter a monastery and that I wouldn’t be working for the company much longer. I was very nervous about this conversation and, as I remember it, I was pacing back and forth in my office and rehearsing exactly what it was that I wanted to say.

Along came a co-worker who knew what I was about to do. He stopped before my door and said just two words to me: “Isaiah forty-three” and then he went his way.

I went to my briefcase and took out my Bible (the very one I’m reading from as I write this) and looked up what Isaiah 43 had to say. This is what I found:

Fear not, for I have redeemed you;

I have called you by name, you are mine.

When you pass through the waters I will be with you;

and through rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;

when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,

and the flame shall not consume you.

For I am the Lord your God,

the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

. . .

Because you are precious in my eyes,

and honored, and I love you.

Take those words to heart because He is speaking to you as well. No matter what mistakes you may have made, no matter what you think of yourself in your self-critical moments, no matter what you own particular story of weakness and failure or want and need, those words are for you: You are precious in His eyes, and honored and He loves you.

The conversation I ended up having was very difficult and did not go well. But it was true: the waters did not overwhelm me and I did not get burned. I passed through, just as I have passed through every challenge and difficulty that my own life has brought me.

And still, I sometimes have to work to open my heart enough to hear those words and to believe them: “You are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you.” And yet he proves it to me again and again, time after time, no matter what may be going on.

And so I leave this passage to you as a pre-Christmas gift. God bless you.

The next reflection will be on Sunday, December 20.

Speak tenderly to yourself

Every Advent I like to spend some prayerful time reading and re-reading a section of the book of the prophet Isaiah, chapters 46-55, which are often referred to as  “The Book of Consolation.”  If you haven’t discovered this beautiful section of the Bible, perhaps this Advent you can explore its riches.

Isaiah 40:1-2  immediately sets the tone: Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to [Jerusalem] and cry to her that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.

Once again, I encourage you to make the scriptural passages more personal and direct by changing the words in brackets to your own name.

Just a few things to notice from these opening verses:

·         The prophet is to speak tenderly. This is particularly important because so often we speak to ourselves in ways that are not tender, don’t we? Perhaps today you can spend some time speaking tenderly to yourself, and then as a result, perhaps you can find ways to speak tenderly to those around you.

·         “[her] warfare is ended.” Your warfare is ended. Where and how are you at war? With yourself? with others? The voice which speaks tenderly puts an end to the wars we wage.

·         “[her] iniquity is pardoned. Certainly, for serious matters we need to have recourse to the Sacrament of Reconciliation, but there are so many other matters in our life that God pardons almost before we even ask.

·         “that [she] has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.” Historically, this addresses the exile of Israel which they were enduring at the time the passage was written. If we personalize it, however, we might think of the consequences of our sins of both omission and commission. When we sin, we are the ones who get hurt in one way or another, either immediately or in the long term. The passage might be saying to us, “OK. Enough of that.” Let the tender voice of the Lord reach through our darkness and bring light and healing where we need it the most.

We’ll continue with our reading of The Book of Consolation next time.

Blessed Advent to you.

God will do for you what you cannot do for yourself.

This Reflection is based on the readings for the Second Sunday of Advent, Year C.

For one who is truly committed to moving closer to the Lord during this Advent season, today’s Gospel passage is filled with hope. Let me explain.

I remember a time over 30 years ago when I began considering making a major life change in order to  enter religious life. I mentioned to my Pastor that it seemed that there were too many seemingly insurmountable obstacles standing in my way, and that they were beginning to discourage me.

He answered me by quoting the wonderful passage from Isaiah that we contemplate today: “Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be laid low, the winding winds shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth . . .”

That passage came true in my life over the next year, until finally I found myself becoming a Novice at Saint Anselm Abbey. And the power of that passage never abated. Again and again and again I have found that the Lord acts in my life to make possible what I thought to be impossible, to send me assistance from all sorts of places I never would have predicted or imagined, to put people into my life—just the right people at the right time to be agents of divine grace in my life.

What was required of me was a firm commitment to move forward. John the Baptist preached a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Allow me, if you will, to interpret that repentance as the will to move away from anything in our lives that keeps us from moving closer to God, and to take committed and deliberate steps to move towards the God who calls us by name, who sends us graces that sometimes seem miraculous, who provides us with valuable companions on the way, and whose guidance and wisdom continue to light our way. Take special note of those valleys that become raised up for us, and the mountains become laid low, as the path in the direction of our heart’s desire becomes smooth and blessed with wonder upon wonder upon wonder.

That change you have in life, that movement away from something sinful, those tentative steps towards the new life that God is calling you to have this Advent and throughout the coming year? Put your faith in Isaiah’s prophecy, profess your commitment (which is there often along with a certain fear), and take a step forward. A bit at a time, day after day, even hour by hour, towards what might end up becoming the greatest Christmas you have ever had in your life.

God bless you.