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being, blessing, doing, God's handiwork, lesson, love, psalm 100, reality, sing joyfully, Sisters of St. Joseph, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, work
People often ask me these days if I am retired. I’m no longer shocked at the question, especially since I am now 70 years old (an amazing statistic that still surprises me sometimes!). I have been blessed thus far with good health and am grateful for meaningful and creative work that continues to present itself.
This morning I was reminded in two of the lectionary readings of this blessing. In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul is talking about faith and says, “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus for good works that God has prepared in advance, that we should live in them.” Psalm 100 follows this theme, opening with a call to “Sing joyfully to the Lord, all you lands; serve the Lord with gladness; come before God with joyful song!”
On Saturday, I spent the day with over a hundred Sisters of St. Joseph – a few younger and many older than myself. Many of these women are retired from active ministry but virtually all of them continue to understand the truth that we are God’s handiwork. This, then, becomes for all of us the most important “work,” calling us daily to love as God has loved us. It is about our being rather than about our doing. For some of us that is a difficult lesson but once learned, it makes all the difference. It is my hope to have totally accepted that reality when all I have left for others is love.
There are two lines in Paul’s letter to the Ephesians that do not necessarily seem connected but upon reflection can be, I think, a way forward in the spiritual life. Paul is preaching to the people of Ephesus about how best to live a good and wise life. (EPH 5:15-20). In the middle of this brief lesson he draws a conclusion, saying: “Therefore, do not continue in ignorance but try to understand the will of the Lord.” I see that as a call to responsibility to throw of any sort of “ho-hum” attitude and wake up to the very best we can be. What that will lead us to, it seems, is a clue hidden at the end of the text where he says, “giving thanks always and for everything.” In other words, it isn’t just the things that we recognize as good or happy that teach us important lessons, but also the difficult moments that can be some of the best lessons if we know how to find the deep meanings therein.
The readings for today are all about transgressions and the need for forgiveness, from Ezekiel to the word of Jesus about the need to forgive 70 X 7 times. Synchronistically, John Philip Newell has a Prayer of Awareness for Thursday morning in his book, Praying with the Earth. Simple and short, it is sufficient for my reflection for this day.
Yesterday I had one of those mornings when waking early turned into an amazing blessing of silence and recognition. I chose to leave my computer packed away and just sat looking out a giant window in New Hampshire at the mid-point of my journey to Wisdom School. (See Saturday’s post). Fortified with the coffee and an invitation to quiet from by ever-hospitable friend, Bill, I spent an hour reflecting on the feast of Corpus Christi (the Body of Christ) as it appeared to me on the calendar, in nature and in my own self as a cell in that universal body of love. Here’s what I scribbled in pencil at one point so that I would recall the experience – a great beginning to this “wisdom week.”
Psalm 103 calls for blessing not only for us but from us and from all of creation. We are to bless the Lord as the Lord blesses us. In addition, we ought to be sending out blessings to all people not just in God’s name but in our own. “God bless you” has been a familiar phrase throughout my life but what has sounded like shorthand for that (“Bless you!”) has recently gained new significance for me.
Having nothing of merit to say on this Tuesday of Holy Week, I search Thomas Merton for a worthy word. Although he never disappoints, I find myself looking unsuccessfully for something soothing to counteract the sorrow of what is to come as this week progresses. I settle for an admission of God’s greatness (the only safeguard for us in distress) and the necessity of surrender if we are to take up our role and responsibility in concert with God.
The first reading in our lectionary this morning contains a perfect blessing for this day of new beginnings. Before I transcribe it here, I have two notes from “last year” to be attended to.
In an alternate translation of Psalm 138, the psalmist speaks to me this morning with a powerful message of God’s presence in the universe and in my life. By it I am reminded that we are all invited to share the experience of God and to encourage one another in that sharing. Listen and see if you are similarly drawn in by the mandate in this song of praise and challenge.
My thoughts this morning are of children – simple thoughts really, for a number of reasons. We have finally (some would say swiftly) arrived at the calendar designation of the beginning of summer and I have been aware that this is the last week of school for the youth of New York State. Freed for the summer from the constraints of study, some are likely jubilant while others quickly become bored. I suggest prayer for young people in general that this season will afford them some new, safe adventures and good friends to companion them.
Not having any inspiration this morning – nor even cogent thoughts for that matter, I have been searching the words of Macrina Wiederkehr for an expression that would mirror how I’m feeling. Since I am unable to recognize myself in anything I read, I choose simply to offer her prayer that begins: There are mornings when I simply sit in silence trying to remember some of the things that rise in me. Her list is challenging but maybe if I focus on even one of the elements, it will jump-start my motivation for the day. May this day be a blessing for each of us and all of us together as we rise to the call of the Spirit.