Tending the Fire

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Celtic Benediction, Easter, fire, healing, John Philip Newell, Octave of Easter, soul, strength, sun, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

“Wednesday within the Octave of Easter” That’s what today is called in Church circles. It feels very much like “Ordinary Time” to me today. There is my list of tasks to accomplish, sitting on the right arm of my chair to assure my attention to their completion. How is it that we keep the fire of Easter alive through each hour? I think of all sorts of adages that speak of that effort: Steady as she goes! One step at a time. Fake it till you make it. (I always hope it won’t come to that one!)

What about this short prayer from John Philip Newell?

O Sun behind all suns, O Soul within all souls, grant me the grace of the dawn’s glory. Grant me the strength of the sun’s rays, that I may be well in my own soul and part of the world’s healing this day…that I may be well in my own soul and part of the world’s healing this day. (Celtic Benediction, p.41)

God In All Things

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blessings, drink, eternal life, fire, flame, God, love, Nikos Kazantzakis, spiritual growth, St. Francis of Assisi, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, water

Today in churches and schools far and wide there will be infrequent guests lining up for blessings. It is the feast of St. Francis, of course, who loved all of creation but chose to possess nothing in order that he could be totally dependent on God. My favorite story about Francis may not be factual and it is not the one of the sweet stories of his relationship with the birds and the beasts (although those are also compelling). It comes from a novel by Nikos Kazantzakis entitled  simply Saint Francis, in which the narrator, Brother Leo, says something like the following:

Once I asked him, “Brother Francis, how does God reveal himself to you when you are alone in the night?” He answered, “Like a glass of cool water,” Brother Leo. “God is like a glass of water?” I asked. “Why, yes,” he replied. “We take and drink it and we are satisfied unto eternal life.” But some years later, when he was simply a lump of skin and bones, Brother Francis called me to him and whispered: “God is a conflagration, Brother Leo. He burns and we burn with him!”

I know there are a few incorrect words in that telling of the story but I have to go searching for my copy of the book to be more precise. The point is made, however, if we consider the process of spiritual growth in Francis as he struggled to do everything for God and to spread the message of God’s all-consuming love with all those he encountered.

Fire is a mighty image for that love: beautiful – for those of us who wish to sit by a fireplace and watch wood flicker into life and then burn uproariously with energy and color – but totally consuming if we consider the result for the wood. That was the fire that ignited Francis to become all flame and calls to us, perhaps, to that same willingness, that unstinting love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Little Theresa”

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Christ's sufferings, contemplation, fire, give, give always, inspiration, little flower, love, love for God, St. Therese of Lisieux, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

Today Christians the world over celebrate an unlikely “celebrity” of the Church. For someone reading a sketch of her life for the first time – just the facts – St. Therese of Lisieux would appear to be no one special, although tragic maybe, because she only lived until the age of 24 years, having contracted tuberculosis at a young age. What one learns, however, in studying her own writings and the evidence in other sources, is that she is one of the most popular saints in the history of Christianity. How is this possible for someone who entered a cloistered Carmelite community at the age of 15 years and lived a daily routine of prayer and household tasks until her death nine years later?

Clearly, the only answer can be love, a great fire that fueled kindness to her sisters in religion, attentiveness to prayer, outreach in letters to soldiers and all to whom she wrote to inspire them with confidence in God’s protection and care. Her love for God and all others in God permeated her young life with mystical visions and contemplation on the sufferings of Christ to whom she was united from early childhood. She desired only to serve God in little, ordinary ways, which she did in the convent where she was not easily accepted.

A lesson for us is the way that Therese approached life and all of her daily tasks. She simply opened her eyes to what was in front of her and saw God in every person and every moment. She did not fret over what was not done, or done perfectly. She just offered everything without concern. Those of us who are so concerned with outcomes would do well to reflect today on the following quote from the one who is fondly called “Little Theresa.”

To the right and to the left, I throw to my little birds the good grain that God places in my hands. And then I let things take their course! I busy myself with it no more. Sometimes, it’s just as though I had thrown nothing; at other times, it does some good. But God tells me: “Give, give always, without being concerned with the results.”

 

 

 

 

 

Becoming Love

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catholic, fire, heart, holiness, Jesus, John, love, most, sacred heart of Jesus, sacrifice, solemnity, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

Today is The Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, a designation that makes me, as a “cradle Catholic,” sit up and take notice. It’s the words Solemnity and Most that call attention to the holiness of Jesus as the model for life. In this way, my focus shifts from the beating and bleeding heart in the images of Jesus on the walls of many Catholic homes to a deeper consciousness that does not negate the truth of that devotion but expands and personalizes it in a new way. Lest the reader assume that I have left tradition behind, it seems important to mention that I have an image of the Sacred Heart in my prayer space at home. It is the totality of the symbols – the face of Jesus, the heart and fire illuminating it – and yes, drops of blood as a sign of his life’s sacrifice – that guides my prayer toward love each day.

The second reading for today speaks strongly of what I feel about this feast. Listen to John’s first letter (4: 7-16).  Beloved, let us love one another because love is of God…In this is love: not that we have loved God but that God has loved us…Beloved, if God so loved us, we also must love one another. No one has ever seen God. Yet, if we love one another, God remains in us, and God’s love is brought to perfection in us…(Here’s the “punchline” – the crux of it all) God is love.

I read a quote once on a card that stays with me. It said, “We are not God but we are a seed of God..” I don’t remember the exact conclusion to that thought but it spoke of our responsibility to grow into God in ways that reflect God’s light, God’s love: the being of God. How might I nurture that movement today?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sparks of Possibility

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abundance, capacity, context, fear, fire, igniting force, infinite, kindling, Passion, possibility, scarcity, spark, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, universe

Quotes from Pendle Hill: Today’s quote comes from The Art of Possibility by Rosamund Stone Zander and Benjamin Zander.

In the middle ages, when lighting a fire from scratch was an arduous process, people often carried about a metal box containing a smoldering cinder, kept alight throughout the day with little bits of kindling. This meant that a man could light a fire with ease wherever he went, because he always carried the spark. But our universe is alive with sparks. We have at our fingertips an infinite capacity to light a spark of possibility. Passion, rather than fear, is the igniting force. Abundance, rather than scarcity, is the context.

The Refiner’s Fire

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Book of Malachi, Christmas, fire, God, Lord, Malachi, Nativity of St. John the Baptist, Refining, Second Coming, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

There is a caution in the readings for today. It’s about promise and possibility but also about responsibility for what is given. The psalmist seems eager when he sings: Your way, O Lord, make known to me. Teach me your paths! It reminds me of how enthusiastically I sing O come, O come, Emmanuel…with the image in my head of a sweet baby in a cradle of straw – no thought to the entire package of His coming. The implication of the seriousness of the Incarnation of Christ is foretold in the book of Malachi, which is what caught me this morning. When it speaks of the Lord coming soon, it then asks a question.

Who can stand when He appears? For He is like the refiner’s fire, or like the fuller’s lye. He will sit refining and purifying silver…”

What it does not say but what is patently clear is that WE are the silver that needs refining. Perhaps we are like Zachariah in this morning’s gospel who heard something from God (Elizabeth’s pregnancy in her old age) that was just too incredible to trust as true revelation. We know what happened to him! His refining took place all during the months before the birth of John the Baptist when he couldn’t speak. It was during that time, surely, that he learned the depth of what it means to trust and to serve the Lord.

In the very brief time left before Christmas, can we make ourselves ready for this force, this refining fire? Can we bring ourselves to a willingness to trust that whatever needs still to happen in order that we might be purified of the dross of our lives is for our good? Although the refining process will go on, today is the perfect day to stand up and step toward the fire of the One who loves us mightily and knows our deepest beauty and value.