Homecoming

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bless the Lord, friend, God, guide, James Quinn SJ, Lectionary, might, Morning Has Broken, psalm 34, ritual, strength, sustain, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, wisdom

Having arrived home last night, I could not wait another day to take up this morning ritual. Rising from sleep in my very own room, I recall my sister-in-law asking my brother – in a ritual of their own –  what song has awakened him. Today I have a lovely answer for this lovely day. It is the words of Jesuit James Quinn set to the tune of Morning Has Broken. As I throw open my window to welcome the sun and a sweet breeze, I hear within these lyrics:

This day God gives me strength of high heaven, sun and moon shining, flame in my hearth, flashing of lightning, wind in it’s swiftness, deeps of the ocean, firmness of earth. This day God sends me strength to sustain me, might to uphold me, wisdom as guide. Your eyes are watchful, Your ears are listening, Your lips are speaking, Friend at my side.

Then I turn to the lectionary and find Psalm 34 that calls me to taste and see the goodness of the Lord.” How can I not respond as did the psalmist? “I will bless the Lord at all times! God’s praise shall be ever in my mouth!”

Happy Sunday, indeed!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Metaphoric Vision

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Ancient Songs Sung Anew, blessed, city of God, hallowed space, heart, inner ear, inner eye, inner geography, interior reality, Lectionary, Peace, pray, Psalm 122, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, worship

After reading a traditional translation of Psalm 122 in today’s lectionary, I came upon what the author called a “metaphoric” rendering wherein “one can experience the peace of the city of God and the kingdom of God as an interior reality…where the sacred geography of the Middle East becomes a reality in the heart.” Listen with your “inner ear” and see with your “inner eye” the vision presented, and then consider the author’s call to go deeper by reflecting upon “the inner geography of your own heart and being” and answer how you are that city, that temple, that kingdom.

With joy I arose and went into your house when called to the worship of your name. I entered and now stand singing at your gates with all those gathered to worship and adore you. Your holy name becomes for us a blessed city, a place of peace that draws us deeper in, where people of every tongue and race rise up before the presence of your face to know and love the God of peace as one. So in this hallowed space and ground, your judgment and your rule of love, becomes for us a kingdom. And may that kingdom come, your peace be done over all the earth, we pray. Within the inner walls of heart and soul, and on the outer towers of human being, may peace descend and be for everyone a fortress and a keep where nothing evil enters in. And this we pray now for the good of all – for all who are your house, your dwelling place forever. (Ancient Songs Sung Anew, p. 318-319)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Quick Picks

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God, Lectionary, love, Matthew, prayer, reflection, Romans, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

Since I need to be ready by 7:00AM to make breakfast for our energetic group of workshop participants this morning, I hoped there would be a brief message in today’s lectionary readings that would serve as a worthy point of reflection for the day. I found not one, but two – so take your pick or choose them both since joined together they provide both a goal and a promise!

Owe nothing to anyone, except to love one another. (ROM 13:8)

For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there I am in the midst of them. (MT 18:20)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do You Love Me?

Tags

focus, Jesus, John, Lectionary, love, mowing the grass, Peter, practice, prayer, serendipitous, spiritual practice, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, work

Sometimes my thoughts have a strange way of coming together. Often two or more unrelated things give me a basis for conclusion that make me scratch my head and say, “Where did that come from?” Today is one of those days – a serendipitous collision of a passing thought with the morning lectionary reading that may or may not “work” in the world outside my mind. Here goes:

On my coffee run to the kitchen this morning the few words I heard exchanged were about the lovely morning weather. The sun was full up and shining on all things green (before 7:00 am!). As I left the kitchen I heard a remark about how beautiful the new-mown grass looked and I felt the same, satisfied with the hours I spent yesterday preparing it for the group of retreatants arriving today. As I sat in my chair and prepared to write, it struck me that mowing the grass on our 11-acre property has become a spiritual practice for me. I speak about it as my leisure because it gives me a chance to be outside in nature with all the color and diversity, the scents on the breeze, the small animals scampering away at the roar of the mower’s approach. It takes focus, however, to get the job done well. I am not free just to ride around without paying attention to the pattern I’m creating. Staying with the line of what has just been cut is essential to a neat and complete result. If my mind wanders into something I see – a new wildflower perhaps – I lose my line and have a wobbly patch that needs to be corrected. Paying attention does not mean I can’t enjoy the ride, but it does mean I need to stay awake and alert.

The gospel for today (JN 21:15-19) contains that famous and often pondered over exchange between Jesus and Peter where Jesus asks Peter three times: “Do you love me?” with Peter seeming more frustrated with each repetition. By the third time he is so frustrated that he blurts out, “You know everything! You know that I love you!” whereupon Jesus tells him just a bit about what the future might look like and why Peter might want to remember the love he has proclaimed so vehemently for Jesus when events call for that measure of love.

What came to me as I read that was the repetition and the necessity of keeping the mind focused – in this case, on what the heart knows. If I forget where I am in the mowing, it all goes awry. If Peter lost the certainty and depth of his love for Jesus (and that of Jesus for him) for even a moment in the toughest times to follow, he might have lost heart. As it was, all reports are that he endured everything that came to him as privilege because of his inner certainty of Christ with him all the time.

If we practice every day – whether in prayer, relationship or mowing the lawn – it may be that we are more able when the tests come. When God asks me in the many moments of the daily routine, “Do you love me?” my answer may be all I need at some future time to stand up to the challenge of love where life or death is the result of my response.

Between the Times

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Acts of the Apostles, Ascension, crucifixion, Father, fear, John, Lectionary, Pentecost, pray, resurrection, Son, Spirit of God, The Great Commission, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

The lectionary readings for this seventh Sunday of Easter find us between an ending and a new beginning and we, in the same manner as the disciples, need to be willing to sit in this empty space, reflecting on what has been and waiting for the movement of the Spirit to call us once again to a courageous future.

In the first reading (Acts 1: 12-14) we find the apostles trudging back to Jerusalem after having received “the Great Commission” from Jesus. He had finished his mission and passed on to them what was now theirs to do: to go out to the world and teach what he had first taught them. So today they are together again as they were after the Crucifixion and Resurrection of Jesus. Was it the same “upper room” where they had huddled in fear for their lives? What were they feeling now? Fearful still, perhaps, without the certainty now that they would be safe going forward. Bereft, most likely, because they were again without the presence of Jesus for their strength. But at least they were together in the company of those who had experienced Jesus in what we would certainly call a privileged way. And together they were praying for the Spirit of God to come and reveal to them the manner in which they were to fulfill their mission.

In the gospel for today we have a glimpse of this ending from the perspective of Jesus. John’s Gospel (17: 1-11) could seem like a son reporting to his father his completion of a project – for school, maybe – by recounting all the steps he had taken and how successful the whole enterprise had been. This scene, however, was much more. Jesus was just on the cusp of leaving those he loved, that small band of followers who had listened to him, learned from him, supported him and sometimes disappointed him, but loved him enough to stay with him through death to new life. His care for and pride in these beloved ones is clear in his recounting to God. Consider your feelings if you had overheard Jesus saying to God: They belonged to you and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word…I pray for them. What a validation of their discipleship! Moreover, these lines seem to express a deep tenderness in which Jesus holds those he called his friends.

Let us take some time in these days between the feasts of the Ascension and Pentecost to sit in this space of emptiness, preparing for a renewed outpouring of the Spirit in our lives and remembering that Jesus promises to us as he did his disciples: I am with you always, until the end of the age.

Greater Things

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do greater things, extraordinary things, farewell discourse, greater good, healer, Inspiring America, Jesus, John, Lectionary, Luke, miracles, NBC Nightly News, ordinary people, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

There is a line in John’s gospel, showing up in the lectionary readings for today, that I would wager most of us would claim as impossible to believe. Jesus is in the early stages of his “farewell discourse” and trying to impress upon those closest to him that they really will be able to carry on without him because he will remain close to them in Spirit. In JN 14:12 we hear the following promise: Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever believes in me will do the works that I do and will do greater ones than these…

Let’s think about this for a moment…How could we even think of doing greater things than Jesus?! Well…take the fact that there are millions more people around now than in the time of Jesus. Most of them are within our reach because of air travel and the internet. These inventions have expanded communication far beyond what could have been possible in the first century of Christianity. And Jesus was a healer. Think of the advances of modern medicine that allow “the blind to see, the lame to walk…” and even new hearts – physical ones – can prolong a person’s life. Keep thinking and you may come up with something you are, or have been, a part of that could never have happened in the far distant past.

Jesus didn’t say, “You will be greater than I am.” What he said was: “You will do greater things than I do.” That allows us to dream big while still keeping our humility intact, always knowing that our abilities and talents ultimately come from God and not from us, but through us – with our consent and participation. The thing that redeems the Nightly News on NBC for me is the last segment that began on Monday nights but now seems to happen more frequently – maybe because we need it more – called Inspiring America. It tells the stories of ordinary people who are doing what began as simple things that have grown to extraordinary works – many of them coming from young people. Take for example the 7 year-old boy who asked his mother why someone was standing on the corner with a sign that said, “Will work for food.” When he heard that there are many poor, often hungry people in our country he started an organization of people his age that now feeds hundreds – maybe thousands of people. When asked if parents help in his organization, he says, “Of course. They help with our taxes and stuff. And they help with deliveries. We can’t drive: I’m only 14!”

Ordinary people doing extraordinary things cannot help but become extraordinary disciples. The one common element in almost all of these stories is relationship. First, of course, there is a recognition of a need that most often includes people in need. Next there is the sense that “I can’t do it alone” so (especially with children) there is the request for others to join in the effort. And then, miracles can happen. It’s like when Jesus wanted to feed the 5,000 people but said instead to his disciples, “You give them something to eat yourselves.” (LK 9:13) And so they did!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two Questions

Tags

bread of life, gratitude, John, leave, Lectionary, psalm 116, reflection, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

There are two significant questions in the lectionary readings for today. One would have been enough for a day’s worth of reflection (or more) but it seems only right not to choose between them. The first measures our “gratitude quotient” – perhaps for days when things are going our way, but not necessarily if we are in the habit of deep reflection. The second concerns the depth and content of our faith. I offer both in hopes that they may come to be seen as two components of unified whole.

1. The refrain of Psalm 116: How shall I make a return to the Lord for all the good he has done for me?
2. A question of Jesus at the end of chapter 6 of John’s gospel, following his declaration that has come to be known as the “Bread of Life” discourse in which Jesus said, “Unless you eat my body and drink my blood, you shall not have life within you…” After that, the gospel says, “many of the disciples remarked, ‘This saying is hard; who can accept it?’ As a result, many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer walked with him. Jesus then said to the Twelve, ‘Do you also want to leave?'”

 

 

 

 

 

 

This Is the Day

Tags

depth, Gospel, Lectionary, message, paying attention, psalm 118, purpose, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

As I scrolled through today’s lectionary readings, I realized that I was skipping over the gospel acclamation (often called “the alleluia verse”) without much thought. It says: This is the day the Lord has made. Let us be glad and rejoice in it. (PS 118:24) “Why,” I asked myself, “am I not paying attention?” “Most likely,” I answered, “because it is so familiar.” “And why,” I pursued the thought, “is that the case?” The answer was quick in coming as I looked back over the daily texts for the past week. On all but one day, the verse was the same, so of course it would sound familiar.

When I begin my search for a message for the day, I always begin with the Scriptures. Sometimes I do not end up there, but it is always my first stop. One of the dangers of having listened to the same Scripture passages over one’s whole life – albeit in a 3-year cycle, is that familiarity often causes distraction, i.e. skimming over a passage that one can almost quote verbatim without really paying attention for some new nuance. I often now make myself go back to re-read when I recognize that happening because, although the Scripture reading may be the same as the last time it appeared, I may be different, having learned something new in the interim.

This morning I feel like a very young child for whom God has an important message. On this fifth day of reading it, I think I finally hear God saying, Do you understand the depth of those words? Do you know that it entails a recognition that I have created every day with just what you need to live a full and meaningful life, whether or not it seems so to you? Even though it’s gloomy outside and the outlook for the coming week at work may be dismal, or your plan for tomorrow may be changing, can you not allow that whatever happens may have a purpose for your good? And when things are going well, can you celebrate the blessing in that?

Perhaps I should tape a copy that verse to the door leading from my bedroom to my every morning, just so I begin the day with the correct attitude, knowing that every day is the day God has made and every day is worthy, in some small or grand way, of joy and gladness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Message: Clear and Direct

Tags

America, beatitudes, books, Christian Scriptures, clothe, false accusation, Hebrew Scriptures, hungry, Isaiah, Lectionary, light, malicious speech, oppressed, oppression, share, shelter, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

I carried a satchel full of books with me this week, texts that we have considered already and others that will inspire our conversation over the next two days. I always feel comfortable in the company of books; just having them in the room with me is sometimes enough. This morning, however, as I read the lectionary texts for today, I was again reminded of the timelessness of the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures. The messages fairly jump off the page in their similarity (Isaiah and Matthew’s Beatitudes) and appropriateness for this moment in the history of the United States of America. The messages of how we are to become light in this world are unmistakable. We should all read them aloud and often. The prophet Isaiah says this:

Share your bread with the hungry, shelter the oppressed and the homeless; clothe the naked when you see them and do not turn your back on your own. Then your light shall break forth like the dawn and your wound shall quickly be healed…If you remove from your midst oppression, false accusation and malicious speech; if you bestow your bread on the hungry and satisfy the afflicted, then light shall rise for you from the darkness and the gloom shall become for you like midday. (IS 58: 7-10)

How can we miss the import of these words? What is our willingness quotient and how might we respond? The message is more urgent than ever now. How can we ignore it?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It Remains to Be Seen

Tags

Advent, commit, commitment, grace, intention, Isaiah, Lectionary, Mark Divine, Scriptures, seek God, St. Louis Jesuits, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, The Way of the Seal, urgency

This morning my reading of the day’s lectionary texts catapulted me back over thirty years into a reverie of liturgical music by the prolific St. Louis Jesuits. These amazing singer/songwriters brought the Scriptures alive with music that is still standard in Catholic churches and other Christian denominations to this day. (Check out YouTube for samples!) Today it was the gospel acclamation that started it all. Seek the Lord while he may be found! declared Isaiah 55:6. Call to him while he is still near! It sounded so urgent – so NOW! (although I must confess to adding the exclamation points myself.) I went then to YouTube to hear again the almost staccato delivery of those words that constitute the entire refrain of the song, building to the news of the three verses that: 1) Today is the day…to turn to the Lord, 2) As high as the sky…are the ways of the Lord, and 3) His words, his ways…lead us to life. Maybe you have to hear it to understand my enthusiasm (so feel free to Google “Seek the Lord” or go to YouTube) but that’s only part one of my morning pondering.

Having been “under the weather,” as they say, for nearly a week (much better now but still less than energetic), I have had a fair amount of time to assess things. I’m looking (albeit briefly) at time management, reorganization of my bedroom (because of spending so much time here), future commitments…lots of things. With the words of the song ringing in my heart, I moved to my computer to write something like what appears in the paragraph above. For some reason I clicked instead on my email account which I always avoid until the blog post is complete for fear of becoming entangled in what can be an entire day’s work. I was aware of going there and proceeded curiously, thinking there might be a reason for the diversion. I was not disappointed as what met my eye was the title of a “daily word” that I received from where and whom I do not know. It said, “How’s Your Commitment?” These are some of the thoughts that followed:

Certainty is a powerful energetic force essential for breaking inertia and developing momentum. The seed of certainty is found in commitment, a one-way street…Take a cue from Yoda, who forcefully mentors Luke: “Do or do not; there is no try!” You must commit with everything you have; otherwise say “no” or “not now.” (from The Way of the Seal by Mark Divine)

So…is there really a way that all this fits together? It seems so to me. How is it that I will choose to attend to the urgency that is growing within me to seek the Lord? I never think there will be a day that the Lord is not near or that grace is not accessible to me, but maybe it is the level of commitment in each moment that needs some energetic infusion in me – a worthy reflection for the season of Advent. Perhaps if the intention takes hold I will know some sort of new birth by Christmas. I can only hope…to commit.