The company of women

Today my Church celebrates the feast of The Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. One might think that with such a title we are talking about some amazing spiritual experience – a visitation from God, if you will. But no, this is about a woman visiting her relative. It’s helpful to remember a few facts about the woman who birthed Jesus. She was young, most likely 14 or 15 years old, from a small town, probably illiterate. When she became pregnant she was engaged but not married to Joseph who had the right to stone her for this transgression. In that situation, I probably would have wanted to leave town as she did. The gospel (LK 1:39-56) tells of her travels to “the hill country” to visit her kinswoman, Elizabeth, who was also pregnant at the time with John the Baptist. Elizabeth was an older woman, far beyond childbearing age we are told. So they were well-suited as companions at this moment – both wondering how they had been chosen for the responsibility of those they would birth into the world. There is the inclusion in today’s gospel of Mary’s famous hymn, The Magnificat, which speaks of God’s power to set the world aright, but I would speak of other things here.

In envisioning the scene, I see two women needing each other’s company for solace and wonder. Sharing conversation around the issues of pregnancy (the first for each of them), the reactions of others about their pregnancies, what life might be like for them after their sons are born…I can see them sitting at Elizabeth’s kitchen table chopping vegetables talking or going about the household tasks in silence, basking in the companionship that grew up in new ways between them. This was not a “dropping over for lunch” visit. The last line of the gospel says that “Mary stayed with Elizabeth about three months and then returned to her home.” I imagine her state of heart as very different upon her return. There were, undoubtedly, those who still looked askance at her and probably vilified her, but my sense is that she knew herself better through the mirror of Elizabeth’s compassion and the growing sense of her mission in life. And there was Joseph waiting to love her through all that was to come.

Today I am reminded of those women – and the wise and kind men – in my life whose presence to me, especially in times of trial, has brought me into deeper communion with God and helped me to become my best self. I hope to spend the day in gratitude and prayer for their company and in prayer that God might favor all people with such friends of the heart.

Birthing

Lately I have been more aware than ever of the pervasiveness of distress and grief in the world, in our society and in the places that I serve. Situations differ but the emotional content of the stories evokes a similar level of recognition and compassion for all. I am reminded of that – and of God’s covenantal promise to us in two ways this morning.

1. In the gospel (JN16:20-23) Jesus says, “Amen, amen, I say to you, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices (“the world” here I take to mean those elements not concerned with the spiritual life at all); you will grieve, but your grief will become joy. When a woman is in labor, she is in anguish because her hour has arrived; but when she has given birth to a child, she no longer remembers the pain because of her joy that a child has been born into the world. So now you are in anguish. But I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.”

2. One of the headlines on the internet this morning is the latest gift of $120 million by Mark Zuckerberg and his wife, Priscilla Chan, to the Bay Area California school system as part of their participation in Giving Pledge, the effort begun by Bill Gates and Warren Buffett for the rich to donate most of their wealth. The story spoke of this promise on the part of this couple (30 and 29 years old) as one way of “giving back” in a whole complex of efforts on their part that includes volunteering in poor schools and (Chan) serving as a pediatrician to underserved populations. It is for them a way of life.

The promise of Jesus in the gospel can certainly remind us – with an excellent example of pain changing to joy – that transformation is possible in our personal lives as well as more broadly in the world around us. The endeavors of many people with the wealth and/or creativity to begin to answer needs in ways that also have the potential to transform society are being documented often now, and frequently such efforts come from the younger segments of society who see a different future than their elders can imagine. What is engendered by each of these examples – for me, at least – is the capacity for hope that exists in me at the same time as my consciousness of the distress within and around me. As I breathe in these messages, sitting with the disciples in that upper room waiting for the descent of the Spirit at Pentecost, I am confident that hope will not disappoint and that the promises of God will be fulfilled.

Wait for the Spirit

Today the Christian Church celebrates the feast of the Ascension of Christ into heaven – the day on which he gave “the great commission” to his disciples and to us to spread the message of love and unity to the world. It is evident from the first reading for today (Acts 1:1-11) that even after all the post-resurrection appearances of Christ to them, they still did not understand what was happening as they asked him, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” His answer was for them to wait for the outpouring of the Spirit, which they did in hiding and perplexity for the nine days between now and the feast of Pentecost.

Perhaps we might take these days as a “novena” ourselves, praying until Pentecost for a new outpouring of the power of God’s Spirit in our world and in our own lives. As we make that intention, we have a blessing wish from Paul (EPH 1:17-23) to accompany us:

Brothers and sisters: May the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, give you a Spirit of wisdom and revelation resulting in knowledge of him. May the eyes of your heart be enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which you are called…

Good Preaching

This morning I picture St. Paul standing in the Areopagus – the high court in Athens – preaching what reviewers call a combination of a “guest lecture” and a trial. It was illegal to preach about a foreign deity in Athens. Paul was taken to court because he had been preaching in synagogues and the marketplace (in the midst of many idols) about the resurrection of Jesus. Noting a monument to “an unknown god” at the entrance to the Areopagus, Paul delivered his most famous, most impassioned and likely his most important speech as it was a beginning attempt to explain the nature of Christ and the God whom Christ revealed to the world. No longer, he indicates, should we be worshipping an unknown god but rather know the God whom we worship. Here is a bit – the most memorable words – of what he said.

You Athenians, I see that in every respect you are very religious. For as I walked around looking carefully at your shrines, I even discovered an altar inscribed, “To an Unknown God.” What therefore you unknowingly worship, I proclaim to you. The God who made the world and all that is in it…gives to everyone life and breath and everything. He made from one the whole human race to dwell on the entire surface of the earth, and he fixed the ordered seasons and the boundaries of their regions so that people might seek God, even perhaps grope for him and find him, though indeed he is not far from any one of us. For in him we live and move and have our being.

That last sentence alone is enough to ponder for a long while. It’s easy for me to understand why many people listened to Paul and were transformed because of this speech and it reminds me to be grateful for good preaching as well as for the understanding that God is the deepest impetus in every moment of life.

Seeing and Believing

As I opened to the website for this morning’s Scripture readings (www.usccb.org) I thought the readings sounded familiar. The first had Peter praising his listeners for their belief in Christ “even though you have not seen him” and the gospel was about “doubting Thomas” who wouldn’t believe in the Resurrection until he had seen Jesus himself. Easy to talk about what it takes to believe in something, I thought…and still think. But I realized as I began to write that I was looking at the readings for April, not May. Oh well, starting over is a concept with which I am familiar so I began to read the story for today from the Acts of the Apostles (16:22-34) and found it a conversion story like the others but a bit more dramatic. It’s a great story about Paul and Silas being stoned and put in jail in Philippi (not so great) and the earthquake that broke their chains and made the door of their cell fly open. What luck! Good luck for them – bad luck for the jailer who had been sleeping on the job and was ready to kill himself before his boss did for allowing the prisoners to escape. So how is this a conversion story? Paul and Silas were still in their cell urging the jailer not to do himself harm but rather to believe in what they had been trying to teach the people. He did believe, of course, and took them home to a good meal. In the end he was baptized with all of his household and became a witness to the power of God in human events. It is clear from Paul’s letters written later that many people from Philippi were converted, some probably because of the jailer’s witness, some through the energy and inspiration of Paul’s teaching and some, most assuredly, because of the stirrings of their own hearts touched by God that caused them to search for what resonated inside them.

So this morning’s message is the same, I guess – just amplified by another example. And I am reminded that, for many, conversion isn’t a one-step process. Rather, there is an initial event or conversation or inner longing that begins the search and then each day becomes an opportunity for going deeper, reaching for our truth, asking new questions…always awake and listening – and grateful for the search.

Hope

In this morning’s second reading (1PT 3:15-18) Peter speaks of the virtue of hope – not just that it is a virtue to be practiced but something more. He says, “Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope.”

Hope is generally defined as a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen, a feeling of trust, and in religious terms is connected to a trust in God and an expectation of a final reunion with God upon one’s death. The word appears today for many of us as one of a trio of theological virtues: faith, hope and love (charity).

If I were asked about the reality of hope in my life, how would I answer? And if there were the follow-on question about the reason for my hope, might I give something more than words that I learned in early faith formation and speak from the depth of my life experience? Today I will ask myself those questions and spend time mining for the gold of an answer.

Speaking the Truth

There are still places in the world – and sadly even in our own country where “liberty and justice for all” is the law of the land – where people are persecuted for what they believe. We are often advised to avoid the topics of politics and religion in order to “keep the peace” in “polite” society. Jesus is telling his disciples something different this morning. He says to them, “If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you.” That’s rather fearsome language and it’s important to understand that he is talking about “the world” as opposed to the things of God. He clarifies that by saying, “They will do these things to you (persecuting those who speak his word) on account of my name, because they do not know the one who sent me.”

It’s difficult in some circles to stand up and speak what we believe while allowing others to do the same. The question I ask myself today, however, is the “why” question. What is it that makes me reticent in certain situations? Am I desirous of “peace at any price?” Am I unwilling for people to know who I really am? Or am I unsure of the depth of my beliefs? There are reasons to speak and reasons to keep silent at times, but sometimes it’s important to stop and take the measure of my silence, my willingness to speak the truth no matter the cost.

The One Thing Necessary

It seems that until the end of his life Jesus was totally focused on one thing: love. Once again this morning the message is “Love one another as I love you.” There are two additional nuances to the message today (JN 15:12-17) that demand attention. Probably aware of what is going to happen to him, Jesus adds, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” One might assume that he was trying to get his disciples to recognize how much he loved them. But I wonder… I went on a retreat once whose topic was “Relationships” and in addition to how we felt about our relationship with God, the director asked us, “Is there any person in your life for whom you would be willing to lay down your life?” That is really a stunning question and if considered quickly might elicit a “yes” but upon reflection, one must admit that allowing oneself to be killed if necessary to save another would take great courage. I pondered it then and do now, only able to conjecture the lengths of my devotion and willingness as well as my strength in such a situation. Then I return to the understanding that Jesus was fully human, having laid aside his godliness to be with us and give us an example of what fully human might mean. And I am again immensely grateful for his steadfastness in the face of danger.

The second addition to the love message this morning is the reminder of Jesus to the disciples that they had not chosen to follow him; he had called them. “I chose you,” he says, “and appointed you to bear fruit that will remain.” We might all be able to look at some impressive accomplishment(s) in our lives that we consider as our “fruit”, but I think it is important to note what Jesus considers the best legacy. That last verse ends with a repetition of what he said in the beginning: “This I command you: love one another.” He seems to be intent on the message that if I have done that one thing in my life, and done it well, God’s dream for me will have been satisfied.

Remain

In today’s gospel, Jesus tells his disciples, “As the Father has loved me, so I love you.” Then he punctuates the statement with an imperative: “Remain in my love.” I’ve always been partial to that word remain so this morning I looked up the definition. There were three choices, the first of which seemed most apt for this situation. The reading from John (15:7) is part of the farewell discourse, the last teaching of Jesus to the disciples before the supper after which he is arrested. So his departure is at hand; they will no longer have him physically with them. The dictionary says that to remain means “to continue to exist after similar or related things have ceased to exist; to abide.” As I ponder the words of Jesus I get the feeling of a vast ocean in which we can float, diving occasionally into the depths where all is silent and serene. The vast and deep love in which we encounter the Spirit of Jesus can sustain us if we learn to stay in the place that [we] have been occupying (the second dictionary definition of remain). It is only through attention and spiritual practice that we are able to achieve this presence, but the effect is worth the effort, I believe.

All of that reminds me of a lively chant whose lyrics call to that presence: Remain in the company of God this day; remain in the company of God. Remain, remain. Remain, remain, remain…

Deeper Reading

Yesterday, as we do each Tuesday noon, those gathered for “Lunch With the Psalms” (see “Ongoing” section on our website) pondered the Psalm of the day (145). Using an alternate translation of this beautiful “praise psalm” we found it most profound. The psalmist sings of the greatness of God and promises to personally praise and to spread God’s name throughout the world. It was all quite uplifting but it was the last part of the psalm that captivated me as the psalmist turned with a marvelous image from our role toward God to how God yearns for us. I thought it worth repeating today to let the words ring out again in praise of our awesome God.

The eyes of every creature ever born were made to look at you and through each passing season receive you as their food. You open wide your arms of love to us and the longing of each soul is deeply satisfied. Your paths run straight to every creature ever made. Your compassion fills up everything you do. You swiftly come along these paths to help us when we call, for you know and meet our needs in perfect nearness.   (PS 145:16-20)

I was especially taken by the phrase “perfect nearness” and thought of parents and other loved ones who know well the balance of love – not ignoring or smothering but meeting needs in just the right way for our good. It seems that if we catch the import of the first sentence in this text and keep our eyes looking at God and receiving the food God offers each day, we will experience that perfect nearness and know peace.