Transfiguration

Tags

high mountain, James, Jesus, John, lamp, Luke, Mark, Matthew, Peter, pray, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, transfiguration, vision

One of the extraordinary events in the life of Jesus, chronicled in all three of the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke), is known as the Transfiguration. That word when broken apart speaks to a process of changing form, which is what happened to Jesus and was witnessed by the apostles Peter, James and John one day on a high mountain where they had gone to pray. It is a familiar story. For those interested in detail, it is a great chance to question and muse about the what and why of the incident as each of the three versions in the gospels has small, distinctive differences, none of which changes the substance of the event.

I’m one of those people who likes to pay attention to the small things in order to get a feel for the underlying sense of emotions and reactions to what was happening. Today’s recounting is from MT 17:1-9 where the first thing that grabbed me was the place where they went to pray. The text says they went “up to a high mountain” and I began to ask myself: Why a high mountain? Is it symbolic of Jesus, the “high priest” – or more simply was it just a place where they wouldn’t be bothered by crowds? Then more deeply: Did Jesus know what was going to happen there on that day? Was that the only time he experienced a visitation from Moses and Elijah or others of his ancestors in such a visual way?

Then there are the three companions, not just observers but participants in the vision. I find it fascinating that in Matthew’s version, Peter (true to his usual manner of reactivity) seems not to be afraid at all in seeing Jesus transformed into a being of light, his clothes dazzling white, standing talking to two men who have been long dead! Whether or not he recognized Moses and Elijah, his enthusiasm caused him to blurt out the fact that it was great to be there and to make the suggestion that they set up tents and stay! Interesting also is that, although the vision did not frighten any of the three, the shadow that overcame them and the voice of God speaking out of the cloud the message that This is my beloved Son; listen to Him, terrified them such that they fell to the ground and hid their faces. In the end, I picture a tender scene that the gospel reports as Jesus coming over, touching them (probably leaning over to pat them on their shoulders) and telling them there was nothing to fear. The vision had passed.

What are we to make of all this? I recommend the message of Peter in his second letter where he speaks about the message God spoke on that day. “This is my Son, my beloved, in whom I am well-pleased.” We ourselves heard this voice from heaven when we were with him on the holy mountain…You will do well to be attentive to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.” (2PT 16-19)

Could that be a call to our own visionary seeing? Perhaps a waiting transfiguration of our own life?

 

 

 

 

 

The “In Group”

Tags

disciples, do not be afraid, fear, gossip, James, Jesus, John, Luke, Mark, Matthew, Peter, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, transfiguration

The gospel for today is Matthew’s version of the Transfiguration of Jesus on the mountain. I understand the desire of Jesus to take time away in a quiet place to be alone as it seems he often did. I might have chosen the Sea of Galilee as my getaway, but the hills might have been a better bet for Jesus as a total escape from people. One could wonder why on this particular day he chose to take Peter, James and John with him. Did he know what was going to happen? Was he afraid he would need help if the depth of experience got too intense? Or did he just have a desire to have some quiet time with less than a dozen companions?

The Transfiguration story appears in all three of the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) and the accounts differ only slightly. As usual, Peter jumps right in with a suggestion that they stay (forever?) on the mountain. He’s willing to erect shelters for Jesus and his guests, Moses and Elijah, so the vision must have presented those ancestors in a decidedly dense way. (How did Peter recognize who they were?) The disciples didn’t seem too shaken by all this – even the fact that Jesus was appearing in an altered state, until they heard the voice of God telling them to pay attention to Jesus, God’s Beloved. It was then that they fell prostrate in fear so that Jesus had to come and touch them (so they could tell they were still alive?) and tell them not to be afraid. At that point the event was ended and everything returned to “normal.”

I often think about the stricture Jesus put on the disciples on the way down the mountain, telling them not to share what they had seen with anyone. I wonder how difficult that knowing was for them and if/how it changed their lives. Did they feel more protective of Jesus? Did this experience make them wonder more deeply about his experiences when he left them to pray? Did their dreams of greatness as the ones closest to the Messiah increase? Or were they confused and bothered by the statement at the end of this text that says: As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus charged them, “Do not tell the vision to anyone until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”

This is all conjecture, of course, and we know that the gospels were not written down until years after the events happened so the writers had a post-Resurrection understanding by that time. My point in all this is – as usual – to look for application to our own lives. Sometimes it isn’t easy to keep the confidences with which people trust us, especially if the news is something sensational or a “tidbit” that others would love to know. We live in a world where gossip reigns and it is difficult to tell truth from fiction sometimes. If I had been one of the favored apostles on that mountain, would I have been able to hold my tongue and thereby protect Jesus – even if I wanted to share what I saw as an event that showed how amazing Jesus was? How difficult would it have been for me to come down that mountain and not go to any of the other nine to share the story? How would my relationship with someone change if I learned of some ability (or disability) that made them more (or less) acceptable to others? So many questions…so much to ask myself, looking for the deepest motivations and clearest truths of my heart, hoping for the touch of Jesus that says, “Do not be afraid.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fill in the Blanks

Tags

Calcutta, canonization, catching people, disciples, follow, James, Jesus, John, Luke, Missionaries of Charity, Mother Teresa, openness, poor, Simon, Sisters of Loretto, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

One of the most difficult things sometimes about reading the gospels, I think, is not what they say but what they don’t say. Today’s lectionary tells Luke’s story of Simon and his companion fishermen, James and John. It’s a familiar story (LK 5:1-11) where Jesus gets into one of their boats as they are washing their nets after a dismal night of catching nothing. Jesus is teaching from the boat (probably to get a little distance from the gathering crowd) and when he finishes, turns to Simon and tells him to “go deep” and start fishing all over again. Simon must have already had some experience of Jesus, first because he doesn’t seem fazed by Jesus just getting into his boat and asking him to go out a short distance from shore to teach the people. His response to the request to start fishing again was similarly instructive. Although he did register the complaint about having fished all night with no positive result, he acquiesces to the directive by saying, “…but at your command I will lower the nets.” The result is, of course, almost more fish than the nets can accommodate.

I’m most interested in the last line of today’s text, however. After Jesus assures them that they have a future in the trade of “catching” people instead of fish, Luke finishes the story with this conclusion: When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him. That’s it. No follow-up instructions. No conversation with their families. No packing or making arrangements for travel…Nothing but response. The next paragraph in Luke’s gospel is about the cure of lepers. We never get to hear the conversation between Simon (Peter) and his wife about this conversion experience – or about anything for that matter.

(Blessed) Mother Teresa of Calcutta will be canonized a saint this weekend with a huge ceremony in Rome. Her autobiography records her desire to enter the religious life from an early age to become a missionary, so she was already on a spiritual path, but her life, like those fishermen, took a very radical turn one day from being a teacher and principal of a school as a member of a traditional religious life in the congregation of the Sisters of Loreto. Already disturbed by the poverty surrounding her in Calcutta where she was teaching, she was on the train on her way to her annual retreat when she received what she named “the call within the call.” She describes it as follows: ” I was to leave the convent and help the poor by living among them. It was an order. To fail would have been to break the faith.” That was in September of 1946. We can now read of the struggles she faced between that day and the beginning in 1948 of the work of her new congregation, the Missionaries of Charity. Her life has been chronicled by many, but on that day, I wonder if she had any idea of what lay ahead as she promised, in addition to the traditional religious vows, “wholehearted free service to the poorest of the poor.”

Change comes to all of us, bidden or unbidden, slowly or “just like that” – in an instant by some cataclysmic event. Sometimes we long to know how others have negotiated such change so that we might know what to do should it happen that way to us. Since everyone’s path is personal, however, we can only learn to walk it by walking. Openness to what God asks each and every day is probably the best preparation for what comes next, living in the present moment is all we have and the only “place” we are called to inhabit. So with an open heart and a listening ear, let us go forward into this moment…and then the next.

 

Transfiguration

Tags

commitment, conversion, Elijah, James, John, Luke, metanoia, Moses, Peter, profess vows, Sisters of St. Joseph, spiritual path, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, transfiguration, transformation

Today’s gospel (LK 9:28-36) tells of an experience that was truly “mind-blowing ” for Peter, James and John, the three apostles that Jesus took with him when he “went up the mountain to pray.” Usually Jesus took those treks alone but on this day he allowed the three to see more deeply what could happen when he was in deep communion with God. He was, the story goes, “transfigured before them…his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white.” If that was not enough of a shock, they also saw Moses and Elijah conversing with him.

One wonders why Jesus chose to expose his friends to this experience. Perhaps they were ready for the next step in their own transformation. It was a scene that they didn’t understand and they didn’t tell anyone about it but they certainly were changed by that day.

Sometimes on a spiritual path we can also have experiences of divine presence that we don’t understand. They may not be as dramatic as that day on the mountain was. It may just be as simple as a felt sense of peace, or an insight that we recognize as not coming from ourselves…yet we are changed. We know something that we did not know before and it gives us motivation to seek a deeper knowing. Sometimes it is strong enough to call the experience a “conversion” or “metanoia” and it leads to serious commitment on our part.

This day is very special to the Sisters of St. Joseph in my community. It is the day on which we professed our vows as religious. Although a peak experience, I would guess that for most of us our “transfiguration” was not instantaneous or sustained. But it was a step. What had begun in different ways for each of us: an organic growing desire from childhood, a comment from a parish priest, a dream or a vision – the notion of religious life came to us (sometimes not so welcome!) and remained. And it is a commitment, just like that of any other vocation in life, that must be nurtured by the ways in which we are called to grow and become the person we were born to be. So today I celebrate my own vocation and the support of all the women who have been example to me of what religious life has been and continues to be for the world. And I pray for a future that will see a flowering of new ways for the transformation of the world.

Post- Pentecost Musings

Tags

Corinthians, different gifts, Holy Spirit, James, Paul, Pentecost, same spirit, solution, Spirit of God, spiritual practice, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

Although very conscious of the vigil and feast of Pentecost for the past few days, I was unable to comment on my thoughts in a blog post. On Saturday while driving to Massachusetts for a family wedding on my favorite highway – splendid in the environmental beauty and never crowded with other travelers – I was suddenly aware of the resolution of an issue that had been noodling around in my heart for a week. It wasn’t as if I resolved it myself but, clearly, it had become a peaceful solution inside me. The Spirit of God was working, surely, for my benefit. Conversations at the wedding and in the evaluative sessions that followed in the aftermath (some would say “afterglow”) convinced me of the blessing of our extended family, no matter distance, diversity or individual character traits. We are bound by our DNA, our history and the lovely young people who are carrying us on to the future. Love was flowing everywhere. The foundation of connection that was passed down to us by our parents remains with “the cousins” and has been well-received by the now two generations that follow. Regardless of the varieties of belief or spiritual practice in this new time, Paul’s words from this morning were manifest in our family and in our conversations yesterday. “There are different gifts,” he says, “but the same spirit…To each individual the manifestation of the Spirit is given for some benefit.” (1COR 12) We are, I think, a microcosm of Paul’s vision of the macrocosm.

As it was yesterday, the wind is blowing wildly this morning, moving me back to my “regular life.” As I think about the group – 11 of us – that will join this afternoon to deepen spiritual practice together, I am reminded of those who huddled long ago in that upper room waiting for the Spirit that came in that “mighty wind” and hope that we might touch into such a power in our midst. I will take the words of James with me. In his letter he says, “Who among you is wise and understanding? Let him show his works by a good life in the humility that comes from wisdom.” (JAS 3:3-18).

The Church calendar says that we have re-entered Ordinary Time but I am convinced that, with God’s Spirit, our Advocate, as our guide, this time of spring into summer will be anything but ordinary!

In All Things

Tags

divine exchange, grateful heart, James, Jesus, Lent, Luke, Peter, possibility, psalm 27, retreat, sacred place, sacrifice, Simon Peter, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, Transfiguration of Christ

From 7:00PM on Friday evening until 7:00PM yesterday I was privileged to share a 24-hour retreat experience with four spiritual seekers, women who came to enter into silence in order to pray and then to share reflections on the Scriptures dealing with the women in the life of Jesus, women who accompanied him to the cross and finally to resurrection. It was an extraordinarily meaningful time and we left with some new insights and a new appreciation of the value of really delving deeply into each word and possible meaning in the Scripture texts. We learned also (perhaps not for the first time) of the value of conversation as together we mirrored the practice of Mary, the mother of Jesus who “pondered all these things in her heart.”

Today will be a different kind of day and yet analogous as we welcome a group of Sisters and lay Associates to our home for an afternoon of meetings about important issues in our present and future life together. I expect less silence but just as much thoughtful sharing and the enthusiasm that comes from women whose purpose is to extend the great love of God to the world.

Today’s gospel is Luke’s rendition of the Transfiguration of Christ (LK 9:28-36) which must have seriously impacted the lives of Peter, James and John, the disciples who witnessed this moment with Jesus on the mountain. I have come to believe that we are all transfigured by the experiences that we have, alone sometimes but also in communion with one another, if we open ourselves to possibility. The season of Lent is always a time for more constant awareness of this fact and of the necessity of being an active participant in this “divine exchange.” Psalm 27 speaks today of this reality as the psalmist sings:

…And in this sacred place I give my being back to you, and everything as sacrifice; and there I offer you in song a grateful heart and a voice filled up with praise and prayer. O hear this voice of mine that calls to you. Take pity on my soul and answer back, I pray. Instantly and deep within my heart I hear your voice. You say: “Seek out my face in everything.” And from my heart, I answer back to you, “Your face, and you alone, I seek, my God.” (Ps. 27: 8-10)

Watching the teacher

Tags

humility, James, Jesus, John, love, Mark, mercy, mercy of God, Pope Francis, psalm 33, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, vision

The first line of Mark’s gospel for this weekend is a bit shocking. (MK 18:35) Although the disciples occasionally seem somewhat unaware of the mission they are sharing with Jesus, we don’t often see competition among them or total misunderstanding of their position vis-a-vis Jesus. When James and John, the sons of Zebedee come to Jesus and say, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you,” we might imagine a response (if we didn’t already know the whole story) of stunned silence or a harsh reprimand, with Jesus reminding them of their mission. On the contrary, Jesus asks them what they want him to do for them. Thinking that he is going to comply with their wish, they tell him that when he has achieved glory (obviously not in the way they have in mind) they should sit on his right and his left, that is, be his most powerful associates. Introducing his response to their hubris with the statement, “You do not know what you are asking,” Jesus then gives them a glimpse of what is coming, drawing the other ten (indignant) apostles into the conversation about the nature of servant ministry – his purpose and vision for himself and us.

How different our world would be if we lived by the words of Jesus in this text! Consider the result if leaders in government, church and corporate America took to heart these words: “…whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant…” We have a great example in Pope Francis, who lives the humility of Jesus so well. His words ring true because of the way he lives his life and the manner of Jesus is reflected in his actions, specifically perhaps in his interaction with reporters and others in interviews. Like Jesus in this gospel, he does not often answer questions that speak to difficult scenarios but rather poses alternative questions like: “Who am I to judge?” Then he speaks of his vision for the Church which is grounded in love and mercy, a theme that resounds in this week’s psalm refrain. (PS 33:22) In his homily of April 7, 2013 during his initial Mass as the Bishop of Rome, his first words proclaimed this vision clearly.

What a beautiful truth of faith this is for our lives: the mercy of God! God’s love for us is so great, so deep; it is an unfailing love, one that always takes us by the hand and supports us, lifts us up, leads us on.

May we learn the lessons of humility and mercy, not judging others for their missteps but treating them as Christ and Pope Francis would. In this way, we will become faithful servants to God and to all of our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Of Hubris and Humility

Tags

conflcit, cultivate peace, haughty, hearts, James, Jesus, life with God, Mark, Peace, psalm 54, righteousness, the first shall be last, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, war, wisdom

The readings today are all about attitudes that lead to wisdom and life with God. In the Book of Wisdom,((WIS 2:12,17-20) “the wicked” cannot bear the behavior of the “just one” so they plot to test his gentleness and patience in an effort to find fault enough to condemn him to death. The Psalmist prays to God to save his life from the haughty ones (PS 54:3-8) and in the gospel Jesus reproaches the disciples for their desire to be “the greatest” of his followers. He says to them: “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.” (MK 9:30-37)

It is, however, the message of James (JAS 3:16-4:3) that is the most helpful to me this morning. He puts two questions that speak directly to the issues of humility and haughtiness that lead to harmful actions. “Where do the wars and where do the conflicts among you come from? Is it not from your passions that make war within your members?” Both war and peace begin in the hearts of each of us; desire for more of what we do not have whether of possessions or status can be our undoing. James gives great advice for living into right action when he says: “Where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there is disorder and every foul practice. But the wisdom from above is first of all pure, then peaceable, gentle, compliant, full of mercy and good fruits, without inconstancy or insincerity. And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace for those who cultivate peace.” What more do we need to learn?

Transfiguration

Tags

being of light, darkness, enlightenment, illuminate, James, Jesus, John, Mount Tabor, Peter, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, transfiguration, transformed

When it’s dark outside, we flick a switch or look for a candle so that we can dispel the darkness in order to see. In a similar way, people on a spiritual path most often frame their journey as moving toward enlightenment. That process is not as simple as lighting a lamp or a flame and, although we need to be awake and participative, we are not “the doer.” It is our cooperation with Spirit, that spark of divinity in us, that needs to be activated in order for enlightenment to occur. Moreover, in most cases, it is a momentary experience, but one which changes our perspective such that our living is different – more conscious and loving – because we see more deeply than we did before.

Such was the experience of Peter, James and John one day when they accompanied Jesus up Mount Tabor to pray. It was an extraordinary experience. They saw Jesus transformed into a being of light as he communed with God and with Moses and Elijah. So my question this morning is: who was transformed? The feast celebrated today is called The Transfiguration, meaning “the change of form or appearance into a more beautiful or spiritual state” (dictionary definition) which is attributed to Jesus as he prays. The vision shocked the men and was so powerfully transformative that Peter wanted to set up tents and stay there – a reasonable response to such an event. As is usually the case, the moment passed and they needed to return to their “ordinary life” but there is no doubt that they were changed and from then on knew a deeper calling to follow even while still not totally understanding all that was involved in their discipleship.

So it is, perhaps, with us. Some of us go through life moving as best we can toward the God in whom we have believed since childhood with nothing but that “still small voice” inside to guide us. Our transformation is organic and steady. Others have bursts of recognition that cause us to change our lives radically toward the good. The goal is the same. We are all called to transformation and the more we cooperate with that impulse, the closer we move toward becoming those beings of light who in time will illuminate the world with love.

Transfiguration

Tags

a peculiar gift, awe, enlightenment, everyday, gifts, God, inner knowing, James, John, Mark, mystical experiences, ongoing journey, openess, Peter, presence of God, shining like the sun, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, Thomas Merton, transfiguration

One of the posts here during my Israel trip spoke of Thomas Merton’s mystical vision of people “walking around shining like the sun.” I’m reminded of that image this morning in reading Mark’s version of the familiar story of The Transfiguration, when Jesus was praying and his companions, Peter, James and John, saw him shining in the same way. (MK 9:2-10) As Merton says, mystical experiences cannot be understood with our ordinary minds but only by “a peculiar gift” – a total openness to the presence of God perhaps – which may be fleeting but never forgotten.

I’m interested this morning in the immediate reaction of the apostles – a mixture of terror and awe – which led Peter to suggest that they set up tents and stay on the mountain. And why not? Wouldn’t it be a natural desire if we had such a brilliant experience that revealed a depth heretofore unknown to us to hold onto it? But no. The moment passed and Jesus was again the Jesus they experienced in the everyday. Now, however, the three knew something that they did not know before, something inexplicable that Jesus told them to keep to themselves. Trying to explain it to others would have been difficult and perhaps distracting from the mission of Jesus. If people were to hear of the “ability” of Jesus to be transformed into a being of light they might long for that experience of him and no longer listen to the message of their own transformation into love. So it is with us. If we are granted moments of enlightenment  in whatever way they come to us we ought to be grateful for we will be changed. The challenge is to see these moments of insight (inner knowing) as gifts and to take them to ourselves as strength for the ongoing journey into God who continues to love us more than we can ask or imagine.