Jesus comes to touch the weakest part

Reviewing yesterday’s hymn verse:

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel

and ransom captive [Israel]

that mourns in lonely exile here

until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to you, O [Israel}

Verse One of the Advent hymn (see yesterday’s reflection) makes us aware of the existential pain that permeates our lives. We are exiled from our true selves; we are held captive by things that keep us from a fuller experience of God; we mourn what we have lost as well as what we cannot manage to achieve on our own; our exile is lonely and marked by profound yearning for the coming of the One who can save us from our condition.

What I didn’t mention yesterday is that the condition described in the first verse of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” is actually the same condition as that described in the first of the 12-Steps of A.A. and other addiction programs. In the first step, we acknowledge that our lives are “unmanageable” and that we are “powerless” to do anything about it on our own. 

Franciscan Fr. Richard Rohr and retired Cistercian Abbot Thomas Keating, among many others, have pointed out that the 12-Step program of recovery is so powerful and effective that everyone should have the experience of working the steps and that everyone is addicted to something that renders life unmanageable and powerless. It needn’t be a major addiction at issue. How about that temper, or that thin skin that causes you so much pain? How about your tendency to judge others by appearances, or your bigotry, or your need to see yourself as better than others? How about . . . . . ? A gentle but ruthlessly honest review of your own life situation can and will help you identify your own particular issue, the one that holds you captive, the one that you have been powerless to defeat. Jesus Christ comes to meet you at exactly that place.

May you be open to the grace he comes to bring.

As I make my way through the verses of my favorite Advent hymn, I intend to relate it to the 12-Steps where possible. I suspect that a deep prayerful study of the verses of the ancient hymn will produce real change, growth and grace in all of our lives. Please come with me as I make my way through this journey.

Advent begins with your need for God

Let’s begin Advent with a verse from a well-known Advent hymn. But before we start, let me make a suggestion: that wherever you encounter the word “Israel”, that you replace it with “my soul.” In this way the Advent hymn becomes a song about your life and about some great blessing you can receive if you take the words to heart. Let things become not only about head but also about heart, soul, spirit, psyche, and even body.

And so here’s the verse:

O come, O come, Emmanuel

and ransom captive  [Israel]

that mourns in lonely exile here

until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice!

Emmanuel shall come to you,

O [Israel].

Let it move from your head to your heart. Don’t merely try to understand it; seek to feel it deep within your being. It has a lot to say about you; it has a lot to say about all of us, here and now, and especially during this time of Advent.

The reality of the verse is undeniable: You are a captive. Think about this today: how are you a captive?

What has you stuck? What are you chained to, that you cannot free yourself from, no matter how much you have tried on your own? Is it some habit? Some mistake you have made? Some weakness that threatens to overwhelm you? Or something else: what is it?

And you are in exile. You are separated from your true self. You are separated from that person that you are trying to become, separated from your most intense dreams and wishes about yourself? You can almost reach out and touch the goal you strive for, but something always keeps you from it. And this exile you suffer is a lonely place. No one has access to it save you. No one merely human, that is.

And so you mourn. Oh how you yearn for what you cannot give yourself, that your own efforts cannot acquire for you. Perhaps it is something you have lost and wish you could have back, but it is lost to you seemingly forever.

What you need to break those chains, to put an end to your loneliness and your mourning, is not something you can give to yourself or can get from anyone else. You need help from the outside.

As it stands, your life is unmanageable and in this verse you admit it and own it. And then you hear the great promise. The only one who can set you free is going to come to you. In fact, is already with you. Let him touch all the dark and hopeless places you have considered in this meditation. And rejoice.

Rejoice in hope!

Black Friday

A few thoughts about Black Friday:

·         To me at least, it represents unbridled consumerism at its most insidious and pathetic.

This is what Pope Francis had to say about consumerism and its effect on the human person: “Since the market tends to promote extreme consumerism in an effort to sell its products, people can easily get caught up in a whirlwind of needless buying and spending.” (Laudato Si, #58)

·         We must always remember that none of the products of consumerism can bring the lasting peace and happiness that every one of us never stops searching for.

·         I heard of a man who pitched his tent before one of the stores on Tuesday morning and lived there so that he could be the first in line when the stores finally opened for the big sales.

·         It has served to devalue family life. Family lives and traditions and customs, for many, are being neglected, curtailed or even overthrown by the new tradition of rushing to the stores at all hours of the day and night.

·         And what about its effect on young people these days. Again, I quote Pope Francis: They “have grown up in a milieu of extreme consumerism and affluence which makes it difficult to develop other habits. (Laudato Si, # 209)

·         It has further enslaved the men and women who work in retail, often giving them no choice but to leave their families to go and work the “machine.”

·         Some enjoy increased salaries, even as much as “double time and a half,” by going to work at 4 am on Friday. For the most part, these are people whose usual wages are usually so low that they need the increased income in order for them to be able to provide for their own families.

·         Thanksgiving Day and its observance is a unique moment in the life of the average American. When it supplanted by consumerism, what happens is that a cherished time which only occurs once a year is now taken over by the sort of activity that occurs on just about any other day of the year: shopping. How unique.

·         More time for rest and familial congress is eliminated, replaced by yet more frenetic activity.

·         The space for reflectiveness disappears in the lives of those who become victims to the New Order.

·         The very creation of the Black Friday concept was fueled by the insatiable greed of corporations.

·         Our humanity suffers for it, and when it gets taken away from us there is often little or no chance that we will ever get it back.

·         I was happy to read that a few establishments stood firm and did not participate in the overnight openings. Perhaps this is a sign of hope.

·         I am very happy to be in a monastery on this day. We enjoyed our community time right up to the end of Thursday, awoke on Friday for prayer, and have spent this day as a special day of rest and reflection. I wish everyone could have the opportunity to enjoy the same.

·         If you haven’t yet given in to the pull of Black Friday, please stand firm and do not let it corrupt your way of life.

·         If you have become of victim of Black Friday, I encourage you to see yourself as a victim and to examine closely the motivation behind your participation in this new custom. What, in the end, has it done for you or to you? 

The next reflection will be on Sunday, November 30.

A spiritual Thanksgiving

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could prepare for Thanksgiving in a way that helps make it a deeply spiritual experience? What could you do to make that happen? I offer a few suggestions.

·         First of all, the day before Thanksgiving is an important time to give thought and prayer to these matters. Most of us will be busy, preoccupied or distracted by all the preparations on Thursday, by the visiting and celebrating that takes place in household. In a sense, on Thanksgiving we are all “Marthas.” Wednesday offers us to be more like “Mary” and to take the time and quiet to reflect and to listen to the promptings of the Spirit Who will lead us into a deep sense of gratitude if we stay open and attentive.

·         By all means, if at all possible, go to Mass either Wednesday evening or Thursday morning. Never forget that the Mass itself is the ultimate act of thanksgiving to God. “The Eucharist is a sacrifice of thanksgiving to the Father, a blessing by which the Church expresses her gratitude to God for all his benefits, for all that he has accomplished through creation, redemption, and sanctification. Eucharist means first of all ‘thanksgiving.’” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, # 1360)

·         Find a few moments of solitude and a quiet place; take a journal or notebook or simply a piece of paper and make a gratitude list of all the things you are thankful for. Don’t overthink this; in fact, if at all possible, let it be automatic writing. If something comes to mind, jot it down. Continue until you have nothing more to write. The benefits of making such a list are not only spiritual; this activity also can have a powerful effect on the emotions and on our mental state. (And, by the way, you don’t have to wait until Thanksgiving to do such a thing. Any time will do.)

Blessed Thankgsiving to all of you. I thank God for giving me the inspiration to write these reflections, and I thank him for you who read them, and for those of you who give me feedback every now and then.

The next Reflection will be on Friday, November 27.

This, too, shall pass

The people were adoring the Temple in Jerusalem, remarking about its great beauty and precious stones. Jesus shook them up: All that you see here—the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down.”(Lk: 21:5)

One of the things His statement might invite us to consider is an integral part of life: the impermanence of all things.

Whether it be good or bad, always remind yourself that “This too shall pass.”

This can be a consolation in times of suffering, and an important warning in times of prosperity and well-being. All is impermanent.  “The heavens and the earth will pass away,” Jesus says (Matthew 24:35). Our little kingdoms and mountains of stuff, even some of our most cherished relationships will not endure forever. All shall pass. And so, in our lives, we get to do a great deal of necessary grieving—grieving over things both great and small.

This is hard to consider, perhaps, hard to contemplate. I’d bet that people were furious when Jesus spoke about the downfall of the temple. And it is a sobering thought for us as well. But in order to live spiritually, we have to regard all things as transient until the end of days. We have to avoid clinging or getting overly detached (yesterday’s theme) to anything that stands between us and our God.

Let me close with a personal example: I had a light for the organ in the Abbey Church that I was very fond of. It was well-made and well-designed. It was an elegant piece of equipment, and it did a good job of illuminating any music I was trying to play. I’ve had it for well over ten years, and it has been used in several different ways. Well, yesterday, as I was closing up the organ, the light fell to the ground and was shattered. “Well this is turning out to be a bad day.” But then I had to go and find a replacement lamp, and it turned out that the lamp I found actually does a better job than the lamp I had lost.

Sometimes, the apparent tragedy of loss ends up leading to something new and better in our lives.

And that is how it will be at the end of time, or at the end of our earthly days, whichever comes first.

A pre-Thanksgiving fantasy

The poor widow put two copper coins into the temple treasury and we are told that she gave away all that she had.

We have so much, and we would find it nearly impossible to give away everything that we had, just like the good young man who went away sadly from the Lord because he was rich and the Lord had encouraged him to sell everything and give the proceeds to the poor.

But could we give away just one small thing? Would it be possible to do that today? In the monastery we have a place where we can leave clothing to be distributed to the poor. I imagine that today I am going to sacrifice one piece of clothing for that collection. But what will I sacrifice? Will it be an old piece of clothing that I haven’t worn in years? Or might it be something that I like and that I wear often? The thought is difficult; giving away something that I use and like would be like tearing something away from my personhood, and find that in reaction to the thought of giving it away is to want to cling to it more tenaciously than ever. No, this is a silly idea. I think I will let it pass.

It is so difficult for we who have so much to separate ourselves from what we have. In a sense, I think it is true that what we have actually owns us rather than the other way around.

But imagine this: Imagine that you have indeed given away everything, keeping nothing back. And imagine that you are going to have to depend on God completely for anything else you need today. Is your faith strong enough to believe that you will be given what you need? Or would you tremble in panic?

And yet, even in the midst of so much opulence, at the very bottom of it all, it is God who gives us what we need when we need it---and realize that those needs are not necessarily material.

But God does supply all our needs, and the things that we think we need that have not been given are things which God knows we really do not need, or that God knows would end up being no good for us. This reminds me of a saying I once heard: “If you want to have what you need, then take delight in what you have.

And so here are a few rambling thoughts that might help us prepare spiritually for Thanksgiving when it occurs later this week in the United States.

What good you have done

That good thing that you do, or did one time,

whether it be great and spectacular,

or tiny and subtle,

whether it benefit thousands and millions,

or just one simple poor child,

whether it cost you much and left you exhausted,

or it was effortless and natural,

this thing that you did,

offer it to God your King.

Offer it freely, completely detached

   from any expectation of reward, recognition, praise or recompense.

Detachment protects you from pain.

It is difficult, and sometimes even painful when we are attached,

   when no one notices what we have accomplished,

   or no one even cares,

   when the attention is given to another in our place,

   when no one understands how much we really gave,

but these pains are as nothing,

in light of the glory of the Giver of all good things.

Unite your offering to Him,

to Him Who has offered so much,

and pray for detachment.

For in detachment there is freedom,

freedom from ego, freedom from pride, freedom from mixed motives.

That freedom is so precious in a world where everyone clings to a brief moment of fame.

Why take credit? What you were given was given to you,

So let it return to the Source,

while you meanwhile remain at peace and rest in the joy of what you have done,

that has brought a loving smile to the King.

Then step back, breathe deeply,

and remain within his court,

for He has wanted you to be there

for all time.