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envious, fair, generosity, generous, good, grace, Jesus, love, Matthew, perspective, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
It’s amazing what you can find when you start researching one little word like “fair.” We know it to be a noun and an adjective – with differing meanings, so it’s necessary to put it in context so that you know whether you’re talking about going to a carnival or watching the weather. I went to Merriam-Webster, the most trusted etymological source in my youth, just on a whim, and found 10 examples before I even moved to the nouns or added an “ly” to make it an adverb.
Why this interest? Well, I was just looking for a deeper understanding of why Jesus thought paying people for one hour of work when some others had worked all day was, in a word, fair. (MT 20:1-16) In the end, it really wasn’t a question of fairness at all. The key question of Jesus that put it all in perspective was: Are you envious because I am generous?
It is our small mind that keeps us trapped in the need for everything to be the same for everyone. Families go to court when they don’t see a “fair” distribution of their parent’s wealth – never mind the financial situations of the parties involved!. Children fight over who got the biggest piece of pie at dinner whether or not they can even manage to finish it because the meal was so big. “Fair’s fair,” we say, which – if we’re not careful – can morph into “All’s fair in love and war.”
I know that I’m most likely preaching to the choir here. The people who read these posts probably understand the generosity of God and are less attached to “things” and the examples I have given above. But even for those of us who profess to be “on our way to the kingdom” there is often that niggling little voice inside that catches us off-guard when we are not noticed for praise the way our brother is, or given the attention or recognition that our sister gets.
Today might be a day to look for instances of the generosity of God in our own life and the lives of others and give thanks for what we see, regardless of the beneficiary of this grace. May this practice lead us to the central truth of it all: that everything good and pure and generous and profitable springs from love and that letting go into love is the fairest of gifts we can know in this life.
I am sometimes awed at how much can be packed into a few verses of Scripture. What I mean is more likely where my mind and heart go after reading a short section, like today’s gospel about the rich young man who couldn’t quite “go the distance” in surrender. (MT 19:16-22)
This weekend has been all about family for me – and about the love that we hope will last forever for Paul and Gemma who were married on Friday. That was the message that I proclaimed for them, one of the most commonly quoted Scripture passages of St. Paul. It’s the one that tells us all about the qualities of love (kindness, patience, never boastful…) and ends with the certainty that “love never ends.” I would add: if we continue to nurture it. Actually there was a lot of love being spread around the venue then and into yesterday morning at breakfast.
There are so many ways to say it – and so many reasons to consider it. The point to make every day really is that love is at the heart of every solution, every relationship…every success in life. It was what fueled Sts. Francis and Clare (see yesterday’s post) and today, the message in the readings couldn’t be clearer.
Some years ago I had the privilege of visiting the town of Assisi in Italy. The visit was brief and the focus was, as one might think, the holy places associated with St. Francis. It was an extraordinary six hours, and I often long to return for a longer visit. One of my most vivid memories, however, was not of the places and stories of Francis alone – although those remain as well – but of walking down the path to the Church of San Damiano. Somehow, the olive trees that lined the path seemed to shimmer in the sunlight as if they were saying to me, “Pay attention, for this place you are approaching is extraordinarily holy.” San Damiano became the home of St. Clare and her followers in 1212 and she never left but died there on August 11, 1253. The intense holiness of the saint and her Sisters, who lived a poor and very simple life of prayer, can be felt in the walls of the refectory, in the oratory where they prayed and the dormitory where a cross marks the spot of Clare’s death. What, one wonders, creates such a living vibration in a place where life was so “daily?” Intention and motivation, I suspect. A famous quote of St. Clare gives a hint of an answer.
Although I know that Sunday is considered the first day of the week, it is Monday that usually calls me to take stock and ready myself for the work that this week will see done or undone when next Sunday rolls around. Today, after two weeks of many full and fruitful days, I am grateful for the opportunity to have this day not only to make a measured plan but also to begin to plod mindfully along, hoping for some level of achievement by the end of the week. I am not naïve enough to think that all will go as planned – that is not the nature of “real life” in my “neck of the woods” – but just making the plan is a good enough start for me right now. Thomas Merton gives me impetus to put my mind and heart into that task this morning with the following reflection.
I smiled to myself just now while reading the story of Jacob’s dream of a stairway to heaven in chapter 28 of Genesis. When he awoke from sleep, he proclaimed, “Truly the Lord is in this spot although I didn’t know it!…it is the abode of God…the gateway to heaven!” My smile was evoked by long ago memories of junior proms (my own and those of classes when I was teaching) when school gyms were transformed into fairylands with themes like “Stairway to Heaven” – the most popular song of one of those years. Things were simpler “way back when” – in the days when parents were chauffeurs instead of the present-day need for limousines and “after prom parties” consisted of breakfast at Denny’s or just going home to dream of the event that had just taken place. Ah, for the simple life!
Three impressions opened before me a moment ago that were like steps to a conclusion. Here was the order: 1. As I turned on my computer I thought: “July first. New month, new incentive.” 2. My eye fell on the title of a book that someone had recently given me for our library. It’s called A Way Without Words and is subtitled A Guide for Spiritually Emerging Adults. 3. I read the prayer and affirmation for July first in Alan Cohen’s book, A Deep Breath of Life. Taken together those two said, “Help me remember my purpose and live the highest life possible. I honor my purpose of divine expression. I am here to love, learn and serve. 
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.
Perhaps I am more sensitive these days because of all the strife in my own country and the world, but it seems that Jesus is repeatedly pushing his point about how we are to love. Today, again from the fifth chapter of Matthew’s gospel, I can practically hear the urgency in his voice when he tells us that we are called not just to love those who are easy to love but also those we would name “enemy.” He leaves no space for misinterpretation of the message. God, he says, “makes the sun rise on the bad and the good and causes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust.” Then come his questions: