He has overcome the world!

I’ve been offering reflections on Ephesians 1. Here is the complete text again. I highlighted the part I wish to consider today:

[I pray] that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him, having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power in us who believe according to the working of his great might which he accomplished in Christ when he raised him from the dead . . . (Eph 1:17-20) 

And from today’s Gospel (Monday of the Seventh Week of Easter):

                In the world you will have trouble, but take courage. I have conquered the world. (John 16:33)

Notice how all of this flows from the reality of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. That is the power Paul refers to in Ephesians. That is also what made it possible for Jesus to say “I have overcome the world.”

That is the power we can draw upon whenever we have to lift ourselves up from episodes of sin and failure. That is the power we can draw upon when we suddenly become aware of a weakness of character that we had never noticed before—for example, when we suddenly understand just how selfish we can be at times—or controlling, or prideful, or cynical or contemptuous or . . .

This reassurance that Jesus gives his disciples--that He has overcome the world--will not do them any good at the moment when the world seemingly gets the better of Him, when He is crushed by the force of evil in the world, when it seems as if all the good work He had done on earth was for nothing.

No, it won’t do them any good at all, until He is risen from the dead and shows Himself to them. And, of course, the absolute demonstration of this power will be on the day of Pentecost when they will receive the fullness of the Holy Spirit, the day we are praying for and which we will celebrate this coming Sunday.

How about those moments and times when we experience near annihilation by the force of evil in the world or in our lives? What must it be like to be a homeless person or a refugee without a country? What can help us when we are crushed by the knowledge of just how much craziness there is in the world these days, or how many innocent people are suffering because of the hatred or greed of others?

What can help us? Perhaps the revelation we have received about the intensity and unlimited scope of God’s power, God Who raises from the dead. Perhaps the revelation that in the course of time, all will be set right. Consider, for example, the Song of Mary that the Church sings every night at Vespers, the Magnificat which speaks of the total reversal of the misery in the world:

He has shown the strength of his arm.

He has scattered the proud in their conceit.

He has cast down the mighty from their thrones,

and has lifted up the lowly.

He has filled the hungry with good things,

and the rich He has sent away empty.

He has come to the help of His servant Israel (substitute your own name)

for He has remembered his promise of mercy . . .

Sometimes when I chant this canticle, it seems to me as if Mary is singing it from heaven at the end of time and describing what will have already happened in our world.

Take courage today. Remember who you are and what has been done for you. Hope in what will be done for you. And at all times, times filled with joy or times filled with disillusionment and emptiness,

be at peace.

God bless you.

Where else can we go?

Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. (John 6:68)

Think of all the people, places, groups, ideologies, systems of thought, philosophies, movements, causes, gurus, demagogues, private notions, suggestions by others, and so on. Think of what they offer to you. Think of what they have to say.  Has anyone, anywhere, spoken to you the way Jesus Christ has spoken to you, has spoken to us, has spoken to the world?

Does anyone else offer the words of eternal life, or even believe that there is such a thing. And I’m not talking about some cloudy notion that we “live on” in the hearts and minds of those who love us, or that we become absorbed in some great conglomeration of ghostly souls and spirits. I’m talking about actual words of eternal life. You will live forever. You will never die.

Has anyone else prayed for you in such a way: “Father, I desire that those . . . whom you have given me may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world?” (John 17:24)

So I ask you this: if He is the only one, then what holds you back from giving yourself completely to His care and His love, and stop worrying about the future, or about the trivial things in life that steal so much spiritual energy from us?

Simply rest in the NOW. Know now that He is getting you ready for life without end, and that this reality is more beautiful, more hopeful, more powerful than any other “reality” we might hang on to.

I look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. (The Nicene Creed).

Believe in Him. Follow Him, even when the way He indicates for us to travel is mysterious and difficult. Even then.

God bless you.

Such wonderful knowledge

“I will not reject anyone who comes to me.” John 6:37 (NAB translation)

The literal Greek says, “I will not cast out outside,” which seems a lot stronger to me. It’s one thing to turn one’s back on someone or refuse to acknowledge him; it’s another thing altogether to  make the effort to cast aside one who comes to you in need seeking mercy and pardon.

But Jesus will not do that to us, we who have come to Him. It is also important to note that the reason we have come to Him is because we have been given to Him by the Father. We are God’s gift to Jesus.

Me? You? That man who lives down the street whom I have already condemned in my thoughts?” He may also be God’s gift to Jesus, and although there might be some among us who would like to see him cast out from our company, he is one of us. And it is Jesus who has included him. So be on the watch for any malicious thoughts which may seek to undo what God has done in Christ.

But let’s think about ourselves for a moment or two. Can we truly realize that we have been given to Jesus, and that He has accepted us, despite anything---despite everything. All I can do is cry out the words of Psalm 138: This knowledge is too wonderful for me, so far beyond my understanding.

We are in the realm of extraordinary mystery here. At least one spiritual writer has indicated that we have in this mystery all the reason in the world to be overcome with joy. Jesus will not reject us, and according to His very own words, He will raise us up on the last day and give us eternal life.

Pray today that the knowledge of this mysterious and wonderful reality may affect your disposition, your attitude and your dealings with all whom you meet.

I’ll close by giving you a personal tidbit: Someone did something last night that really aggravated me. I was in a good disposition so I noted what had happened, noticed that I was aggravated, and then let it pass through me. But in light of what I have just written here, now I can “cast it far from my sight” and continue to love the other person, because in the grand scheme of things, none of what happened last night matters in the least. Alleluia!

God bless you.

Show Me

(Please note: I will be away most of next week and have decided to take a little “Easter vacation.” The next reflection will be posted on Monday, April 11. Please keep me in your prayers.)

The Easter celebration continues, and today we hear once again the story of Thomas, who wanted actually living proof that Jesus had risen from the dead, proof so undeniable that he could actually reach out and touch it with his own hands.

And the risen Lord appeared to him and his friends and gave Thomas exactly what he had asked for. The Gospel passage (Luke 20:19-31) doesn’t actually say that Thomas touched the Lord, but most readers assume that it is so, because Thomas falls to his knees and proclaims, “My Lord and my God!”

Thomas wanted actual living proof. And whatever happened was definite proof for him, as he reacts as only one can react after such an experience.

These details are given to us so that we have proof as well. Not tactual proof, but proof in the details themselves. Jesus appeared. He ate and drank with them. Mary clung to him in the garden. Thomas had his doubts removed. Reread the stories of the resurrection appearances through one particular lens: “Is this proof enough for me?”

I ask a question similar to that every Easter. “Show me You have risen,” I ask. And every Easter season something happens in my life that becomes proof enough for me, and He has never let me down.

It is important, however, that I keep my eyes and ears open and that I don’t demand any particular type of proof like Thomas does, but rather that I understand, and have understood, that a proof will be given to me and that it will come from often surprising and unexpected ways, and sometimes very little and simple ways. Last year, when I was at a particularly low point in my life, a particular book practically fell off the shelf and into my hands, and the book was exactly what I needed at that time, and I was at peace, and the crisis passed and I came out the other side in better shape than I have ever been before. Once again, the Lord gave me his proof. And once again I could proclaim, “My Lord and my God.”

What might you ask of him this Easter Season?

God bless you.

Three words for Easter

Easter Sunday and Monday 2016

Three words for Easter:

They’re in Latin. Latin often uses an economy of words where we need to use several more in English. One of my favorite Easter phrases comes from the Marian antiphon we sing after Compline during the Easter Season. “Queen of Heaven, rejoice, alleluia!.” There is a beautiful 3-word phrase in the antiphon that I offer for your meditation today and tomorrow. Here it is:

Resurrexit sicut dixit.

He rose (was resurrected) just like he said he would!

If you want to learn how to pronounce it correctly, look it up in Google. It’s worth the effort.

Let that be your mantra throughout the Easter season. If you keep repeating it, it will yield layers of meaning to you throughout the season. Basically, among other things, the message is this:

It Really Happened.

If you want, you can use those three words instead. I tend to prefer the Latin—but that’s just me.

Blessed Easter and Easter season to you!

Morning Prayer in a monastery

Holy Saturday 2016

One of my favorite parts of the Triduum each year is the office of Vigils and Lauds (Morning Prayer) on Saturday morning. The Cross is displayed at the altar, the tabernacle is empty, and we enter the quiet time of Holy Saturday morning and pray psalms and canticles through a particular filter: Christ has died, and is in the process of passing from death to life. What I offer you today are selections from those prayers so that you can read them through the same lens.

“My body shall rest in hope”   antiphon for Psalm 16

For you will not leave my soul among the dead, nor let your beloved know decay.

You will show me the path of life,

the fullness of joy in your presence,

at your right hand happiness for ever. (Psalm 16)

O gates, lift high you heads;

grow higher, ancient doors.

Let him enter, the king of glory. (Psalm 24)

Descending to death’s dark abode

where dwelt just souls from ages past,

You let them forth, a victory march,

to glory in new life at last.  Hymn for Lauds: Christe caelorum domine, translated by Abbot Matthew

The just will rejoice in the Lord

and fly to him for refuge. (Psalm 64)

I shall praise you all my life,

freed from my anguish (Isaiah 38)

For you, Lord, my heart will live,

you gave me back my spirit;

you cured me, kept me alive,

changed my sickness into health. (Isaiah 38)

And finally, one of the petitions of the final prayer, which has particular meaning for us monks:

Good Shepherd, in death you lay hidden from the world;

keep us faithful to the prayer and work of a monastic life

hidden with you in the Father.

God bless you.

We need to go through the pain.

Wednesday of Holy Week

This morning I had a chance to meet with a group of people, not all of them Christian, who were living difficult and troubled lives, and who were struggling to keep their heads above water. My heart when out to them and I admired their courage and their willingness to speak from the heart directly and sincerely and without any need to put up a good front or to “look good.”

Several of them spoke about having the feeling from time to time that they welcomed death as a release from their pain and suffering, and how at some times they felt like they were at “the end of their ropes” and had little or no energy to keep going on. What could I possibly say to them?

I decided to take a plunge and talk about Holy Week despite the variety of religious traditions present in the room. I gave a brief description, trying to keep it as “secular” as possible because this was not a setting where I could preach or proselytize. They knew I was a priest, and so that fact spoke enough to them. So: what to say?

Finally, this is what I said, and I give thanks to the Holy Spirit for guiding my words because I wasn’t really sure what to say: “Basically, the observance of Holy Week and Easter is like going through a process. It’s meaning is that it is by pressing through pain that we end up on the other side and win the victory and the cessation of suffering.” And that is all I had to say. Several of the people in the room looked like I had just revealed a great secret to them that they had never discovered before. I didn’t need to say any more.

When I reviewed the Gospel for today’s Mass (Matthew 26:14-25) I recognized our Lord in already in pain. It was the Passover Supper—the final night He would be with His disciples. On some level he knew what was to come, but there He was in a room surrounded by friends, in a room where one might suppose there was a great deal of love and devotion, and despite all that he had to come face to face with his betrayer who would soon leave the room and go about his nasty business.

This Gospel passage sets before us one of the many “Stations of Pain” that the Lord has to experience on His own way to Calvary, through death, and then to glorified Resurrection and victory. This year, as I enter the Holy Week process, I will remember in a special way the precious men and women I had spoken with this morning, along with all the other suffering people in the world whose lives contain more pain than joy at this time in our troubled history.

May the Lord of life be with you.

The Death of a Monk

One of our monks died this morning, and his death put an end to his suffering. Old age was not kind to him at all, and he suffered from a variety of ailments in addition to being legally blind and seriously hard of hearing. I remember one day in particular when I was standing by a staircase and I heard a frantic cry for help. I had to search to find out where it was coming from because there were many echoes. I finally found him down on a landing between floors. He was shaking like a leaf and it was hard to get through his nervousness to calm him down so I could lead him back upstairs. I have no idea how he had managed to get himself down there. What a frightening thing he had to endure.

When I heard of his death, a thought immediately came to mind: “Now he can see again!!!!!”

In the days to come we will be offering the usual rounds of monastic prayers for him. I particularly like the “Office of the Dead” which we will pray when his body is brought to the monastery. It’s not a morbid thing at all. The emphasis is on passing through death to life, and the psalms are filled with hints and images of resurrection: “I am sure I shall see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living.” Things like that.

Some monks will get very nervous, especially those who are responsible for preparing the liturgies and the funeral. There are so many details to take care of, but I suspect you know exactly what that’s like if you’ve suffered the death of a loved one.

This is also a time for greater silence, and tremendous respect for one another. We never can know for sure how each of us is processing our brother’s death, and so we tend to be particularly careful of one another. It is possible that one or two of us will get very angry, since that is a natural part of the grieving process, and we are reminded by Saint Benedict that we should “try to be the first to show respect to the other, supporting with the greatest patience one another’s weaknesses of body or behavior . . . “ (Rule of Saint Benedict, chapter 72 verses 4-5.)

There’s one thing I already noticed when we were praying noon prayer a little while ago. When we are praying the office (morning and evening prayer, night prayer and noon prayer), the words of the psalms tend to jump off the page and right into our hearts. This becomes a special contemplative time.

Monastic funerals are beautiful things, and whenever we go through one I can’t help reminding myself that one day will be my turn, and my brothers will do the same wonderful things for me that we are doing for our deceased confrère now.

Have I told you that I love my monastic life?

God bless you, and may the souls of the faithful departed rest in peace. Amen.

The Agony of Paris

A terrible thing happened in Paris this weekend. Hatred, violence, the killing of innocence, unmerited pain, fanaticism, self-destruction, terror and chaos.

If you can, sit with the weight of all this evil  while gazing at a crucifix, and behold Him Who drew onto himself the entire weight of sin and evil in the world.

Hold the pain and connect it with the crucifix, and stay with it for as long as you are inspired to do.

In your prayers, let every suffering soul and every grieving person be embraced by the crucifix.

And remember this: the crucifix is the gateway to the end of all pain, all violence, all hatred, all chaos.

All death.

* * * * *

A terrible thing happened in Paris this weekend.

A terrible thing is happening in the world these days, every hour, every moment.

Terrible things are happening in our country these days, every hour, every moment.

We cannot and do not hear of all of them. Few of them make the news or attract the attention of the media.

But still they are happening. And always, it is the crucifix that provides the only point of reference that makes it possible to bear the evil.

Even though it may seem impossible, or implausible, or unimaginable,

it is within the agony of the crucifix that is found  the seed of the end of it all,

and that seed will come to life.

And there will be peace. We will see glimpses of it. It will drown the darkness for all time.

And so pray,

     grieve,

          carry the pain.

                Allow the pain to gentle you and me that we may be no part of the darkness.

Pay careful attention to anything within you that may contribute to the darkness, even the temptation to think of righteous revenge. For when you think like that, you are infected by the same evil.

Pray. Grieve. Carry the pain. And give it over to the Savior the world needs so badly.

And let it end there. And let it begin there.