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ears, eyes, hear, heart, John Philip Newell, light, listen, Praying With the Earth, presence, recognition, remember, Romans, silence, St. Paul, stillness, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
Everything is so still this morning. It reminds me of the line in Paul’s Letter to the Romans where he says that “all creation is on tiptoe, waiting for the children of God to come into their own.” That image is my favorite translation because it is so visual but also because it implies for me an intense use of both ears and eyes. We won’t see it if we have our eyes closed and we won’t hear it if we’re not really listening. Even if all of our five outer senses are engaged, there needs to be an interior readiness for the in-breaking of God’s presence. I’ve come to the conclusion that it is an incremental thing, sparked either by our own silence or by a communal encounter of recognition. Deeper than silence, the stillness becomes palpable and we know something that we didn’t know before – indescribable but deeply true. Again it is John Philip Newell whose prayer suffices for this morning.
It is when we are still that we know. It is when we listen that we hear. It is when we remember that we see your light, O God. From your Stillness we come. With your Sound all life quivers with being. From You the light of this moment shines. Grant us to remember You at the heart of each moment. Grant us to remember. (Praying with the Earth, p. 44)
Last Sunday, as I listened to a dramatic reading of the entire gospel of Mark, I was struck by the number of exorcisms Jesus performed. In the different ways that “evil spirits” manifested in people, Jesus commanded those “spirits” to “come out!” and the people were healed. I’m wondering this morning if all the synoptics were similarly engaged in reporting such events. My attention was a caught because today’s gospel from Luke (11:14-23) begins with Jesus “driving out a demon that was mute, and when the demon had gone out, the mute man spoke and the crowds were amazed.”
Today is the feast of Teresa of Avila. Because it is Sunday, always a “first class feast,” we don’t hear about Teresa this year. I find it difficult to let it go by, however, without some mention of this woman who is one of only four women thus far in the history of the Roman Catholic Church to achieve the title of “Doctor of the Church.” Sister Teresa was a mystic, but also very active, tireless in her work of reforming the Carmelite order of nuns in the 1500’s in the most rigorous – some thought too extreme – way. Her writings were extensive and her spiritual practice was constant, although for many years she suffered many physical illnesses and a deprivation of any spiritual consolation. She never despaired, even in the face of investigation by the Inquisition, and her writings are considered one of the great treasures of Christian mysticism.
This morning I found a quote in Thomas Merton’s Book of Hours that I hope to remember as the day progresses. It is in his Wednesday reflections at dusk, so I thought that if I kept it in my heart and consciousness all day, maybe I could say the same as life unfolds and I arrive at evening. It’s a new way to pay attention to the events of the day, a “holy expectation” perhaps – at least worth a try. Here is what he says:
Today Christians celebrate the feast of the Ascension, remembering the day when Christ left the earth after commissioning his apostles to “go into the whole world and tell the good news.” The gospels vary in their descriptions of the event and the book following these accounts, the Acts of the Apostles, opens with its own variation of the fact that “he was lifted up” and disappeared from their sight. It’s one of those events that I think “you had to be there” because it seems like something that has to be seen to be believed. Yet, for over 2,000 years, people the world over have heard and believed and followed the instructions that Jesus gave at that time. That is, perhaps, the best testimony to the truth of what Jesus was all about here on earth – the fact that those he commissioned did what he asked so effectively that the message has endured through all this time.
I don’t often think about the biblical Book of Proverbs but this morning I was reacquainted with how pithy and sensible – and sometimes wry or ironic – they are. Here are a couple from chapter 21 that appear this morning and are worth more than a passing glance.
I know it’s long past time for my annual eye exam and lately I wonder if I need stronger lenses in my glasses. Some mornings, however, I think it’s just a question of “wiping the sleep out” of my eyes, a phrase I remember from childhood. I’m one of the lucky ones who didn’t need to wear glasses until far into middle age and now I bless those whose inventions help me to see, especially each time I do have a check up and see pictures of my eyes in their totality. I marvel also at all the eyes can reveal about what’s going on in the rest of the body – conditions like diabetes and high blood pressure – which reminds me to give thanks that I live in such a marvelous “machine” as my body.