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bigger picture, humility, James, John, listening, love, Mark, Matthew, prayer, prestigeattention, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, trust, wisdom, Zebedee
Today we have an appearance of those two outspoken disciples, James and John, the sons of Zebedee. We first meet them in the gospel of Matthew as they are with their father preparing their nets for fishing. As with all the others who left what they were doing to follow Jesus, one wonders about the reaction in their family. We never meet the father again but their mother shows up in the gospel of Matthew asking for privilege for her sons (MT 20) and today we have Mark’s rendition of that event (MK 10:32-45) where the brothers speak for themselves. It’s a rather shocking passage but maybe understandable if you consider the haughty behavior of their mother recorded elsewhere. Asking Jesus that they be “seated one at your right and one at your left in your glory” is not at all in keeping with the humility expected of the closest followers of Jesus. Even worse is the fact that Mark pairs that conversation with Jesus telling the Twelve what was going to happen to him in Jerusalem – his suffering, death and resurrection.
Maybe James and John weren’t really listening closely or maybe they just skipped over the suffering and death part because it seemed too impossible to consider, but their response held nothing of care for Jesus. It was all about the prestige they were hoping for as his companions.
While we admit that Mark’s is the shortest gospel and that it was written at least 30 to 40 years after the events described, one must wonder at the reasoning behind the juxtaposition of the two scenarios in this one passage. Was it a call for humility, pointed out by bad behavior? A call to attention, perhaps, so that we don’t miss the messages we are being given even in the everyday? Did it really happen as Mark told it, or were the brothers embarrassed by the arrogance of their mother in Matthew’s rendering? Certainly this is all conjecture but it does give one pause.
For me today it’s all about our approach to God in prayer. Awareness of “the bigger picture” of our lives, humility, trust and love ought to guide our desires as we do not speak for ourselves alone but for the good of the whole. Ultimately, wrapping all of our prayer in a mantle of surrender to the wisdom of God will assure what is best for us, even if we can’t see it in the present. And that, it seems, is the only way to live.
Psalm 49 speaks loudly of the reality that “you can’t take it with you.” No matter our success or wealth, wise people die, the psalm says, “and likewise the senseless and the stupid pass away leaving to others their wealth.”
Today Christians celebrate the feast of St. Mark, known as the author of the shortest of the four canonical gospels. Mark never wrote anything superfluous but got right to the point. That reminds me of my father’s frequently repeated phrase, “short stories” when we were explaining something in a longer narrative than necessary. It also brings to mind something I learned long ago about interactions in groups. I was taught to ask myself three questions: 1. Is this necessary to be said, 2. Is it necessary that I be the one to say it, and 3. What will be the result of saying it?
The waiting is over. Prepared or not we acknowledge that Christ comes today to each of us and all of us, calling our hearts to a love that is as divine as it is human, drawing us forth in the humility of one born like us while at the same time offering us riches beyond our comprehension, if only we agree to pour ourselves out in generosity of spirit. The paradox is that this gift to the Christ can be given in the smallest of ways: each day a smile or a kind word to someone starving for affection, ten minutes of silence to heal a noisy world or…name your own offering of light. Every gift is acceptable to the Christ. Now it is He who is waiting for us. Let us rejoice and give thanks!
My sister gave me a book a long time ago entitled, Our Lady of the Lost and Found. A work of fiction, the story is about a middle-aged writer who (the book jacket explains) “on a typical Monday morning, enters her living room and finds a woman standing by her fig tree. the woman is wearing a blue trench coat, white Nikes and a white shawl over her hair. She is holding a purse and a suitcase. She is the Virgin Mary…”
Between conflicting stories on broadcast news and devastating weather reports of raging fires in the west and three additional hurricanes brewing in the waters off the southeastern coast of the United States, I decided moments ago that the only answer for me would be to race to the closest monastery and close the door on it all. So I pulled out David Keller’s book, Oasis of Wisdom, to give me something to work with – a verification of the need to escape, I mean. Here’s what I found in the first few pages of this book on the early Christian monastic life, stories of the “desert fathers and mothers.”
Although Saturday can be a day to catch up on all sorts of mundane tasks and chores, occasionally I savor the opportunity for a bit of leisurely delving into reflection on something found in one of the many alluring books on my shelves. This morning I returned to Thomas Merton’s Book of Hours, noting that I had not visited with him – or mentioned him here – for quite some time. Rather than quotes from his various texts, Saturday’s entries in Kathleen Deignan’s book of Merton’s writings are all parts of his amazing prose poem, Hagia Sophia (Holy Wisdom).
A little over a month ago, when I was not sure of my ability to do this morning writing practice because I was leaving on vacation, I promised to leave a series of quotes for our tech wizard, Mary Pat, to post day by day. I was so satisfied with myself for having completed that task but as I was driving the next morning, I realized that the quotes were still sitting in my computer as I had not sent them to her! Humility is a great virtue and I have learned a lot about it along the way. The best thing about that virtue, I think, is the ability to admit both the great things about oneself and the failures or missteps without agonizing over either. In that spirit, I am going to try again to complete what I didn’t on my first try.
When I stumbled into the kitchen this morning for my coffee, everyone was there and all three were wide awake. Someone commented that “the early bird catches the worm” to which another replied, “Ah, yes, but the later one gets the filet mignon!” (Cheery repartee for 6:30AM!)
Today is the feast of the conversion of St. Paul, an event that in today’s world would be characterized as “doing a 180.” Paul, one of the most diligent persecutors of Christians was “blinded by the light” in a miraculous theophany. He could suddenly see nothing with his physical eyes so that he would turn inward and see with spiritual eyes the pain he was inflicting on people. His conversion, the total turning of his life to the opposite direction, was startling.