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Benedictine, coming home, fear, frailty, heart, Hosea, living deeply, new life, return, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, Weston Priory
In the early 1970s the Benedictine monks of Weston Priory in Vermont began a music ministry that has enhanced the spiritual growth of innumerable people over the past half century. One of the most beloved of their early compositions that still appears in church hymnals and touches hearts of those who desire relationship with God, even while knowing human frailty, is Hosea. It is based on passages from the book of the prophet Hosea in the Hebrew Scriptures, which is one of the most tender texts in the Bible as it recounts the relationship of Hosea and his harlot wife, Gomer – a representation of God’s relationship with Israel.
Those words in this morning’s lectionary (HOS 2:16-22) float through my mind and call me back to the song. The music itself is full of longing while the words simply and directly present God’s desire for us. It sings in my heart this morning as I listen to it again on YouTube.
God calls: Come back to me with all your heart. Don’t let fear keep us apart. Trees do bend, though straight and tall. So must we to others’ call. Long have I waited for your coming home to me and living deeply our new life.
How can I resist?
Psalm 119, the longest in the book of 150 psalms, has 176 verses and can be the study of a lifetime. In a commentary this morning I read that the subject of these prayers is the hard learning one gains in light of a multitude of hardships and circumstances encountered on the spiritual path…Experiences are often repeated again and again. As we go over the same territory learning it in new ways, truth becomes grounded. Insights are gained from each spiral of ascending experience.
How fitting for those gathered in this tiny town in Maine that we should be celebrating today the Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus. As we endeavor to move in prayer and practice from a stance of oneness, we are frequently reminded to “put the mind in the heart” and act from there. No judgment, no self-identification, just the love that flows out of a consciousness that we are all one. While not an easy goal, it is the simplest of practices – just breathing into the sense that the heart is central to our living and its steady beating is our lifeline to love.
Today I anticipate joy in abundance. If you read yesterday’s post you’re probably thinking I’m referencing the acclamation: This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us be glad and rejoice in it! I must admit I was relieved that I remembered to say it to myself when I got out of bed this morning. If nothing else, I ought to practice what I preach! But I digress!
The daily Scriptures continue to surprise me. Just when I think I have the important messages memorized, a verse shows up saying something I don’t remember ever hearing before. This morning it’s from Ezekiel. I’ve been confident for as long as I remember, knowing that God said “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you…” but this morning the verse before the gospel stuns me with: “Cast away from you all the crimes that you have committed, says the Lord, and make for yourselves a new heart and a new spirit.” (EZ 18:31) That sounds like the retort of Jesus when the disciples tell him the huge crowd that’s been following him needs food and he says, “Give them something to eat yourselves.”
Our most cherished annual gathering, to honor St. Joseph (feast day 3/19) and those Sisters celebrating a jubilee in religious life (40, 50, 60, 70, 75 years this time), was held yesterday. The liturgy was glorious and we “sang our hearts out!” As I thought of that turn of phrase this morning I felt more deeply the truth of our covenant with God as expressed in today’s first lectionary reading from Jeremiah 31:31-34.
On this Friday morning as I sit waiting for the light to come, I offer a simple “Prayer of Awareness” from John Philip Newell’s book, Praying with the Earth. May it travel with us through the day.
Yesterday I had two meetings back-to-back. The first was a small gathering, only four of seven who try to gather monthly for a “shot in the arm” of wisdom practices that keep us conscious in a way that nothing else seems able to do. We always miss but are very aware of our connection with our “absent brethren.” I went from there to a virtual committee meeting; just our voices were together through the miracle of a phone conference. Again we were four, together in the ethers in an effort to create a process that we hope will enable deeper sharing among members of a much larger group. I could see the faces in my mind as each of us spoke and allowed ideas to germinate in the sharing.
Last winter we decided to offer a series on Mindfulness at the Sophia Center because it seemed that this concept was being talked about in many circles and there were many ways to go about presenting it. We decided on five sessions during which we would explain and then offer examples of a different “mindfulness practice” each week. The topics were diverse: chanting from several traditions, Buddhist meditation practices, centering prayer, etc. and each of them touched somehow on a more quiet approach to life. The series was one of the best-attended efforts of the year so we have decided to continue our exploration of mindfulness. For a number of reasons we chose the topic Hearing With the Heart for this year’s series. It is our hope that we will come to understand more deeply the concept and practice of contemplative listening and contemplative dialogue as we explore hearing and speaking out of spacious silence.
This morning as I read Psalm 86 I thought of how blessed I am with good friends to whom I can go for comfort in troubled times. There are moments, however, when it is only God who will suffice as a sounding board – or when it feels as if that is true. When I have acted in a less than worthy manner or judged someone unjustly, I am likely to first seek God’s forgiveness until I work up the courage and humility to admit my fault to a human being. Excuses abound for bad behavior and it is only when the layers of babble are stripped away – usually in conversation with God – that I dare to admit my need for forgiveness. How blessed are we, therefore, to have a God whose name is Love! I am grateful to the psalmist today – and to the translator – for these comforting words that give me pause.