The Quality of Mercy

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Matthew, mercy, patience, Pope Francis, sacrifice, St. Peter, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

Often when I open the USCCB website where I find the lectionary readings for the day there is a line that jumps out from the page and calls for my attention. Today I didn’t have to look too deeply as it was already italicized. The sentence from chapter 12 of Matthew’s gospel has God saying, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” I thought immediately of Pope Francis and the focus early in his pontificate which has continued unabated. He even wrote a more than one book about mercy so it’s very easy to quote  him on the subject. Here is something from his homily in 2013 on Divine Mercy Sunday that reminds us of the fact that even the closest friends of Jesus needed mercy for their failings – and they got it!

Let us…remember Peter: three times he denied Jesus, precisely when he should have been closest to him; and when he hits bottom he meets the gaze of Jesus who patiently, wordlessly, says to him, “Peter, don’t be afraid of your weakness, trust in Me.” Peter understands, he feels the loving gaze of Jesus and he weeps. How beautiful this gaze of Jesus – how much tenderness is there! Brothers and sisters, let us never lose trust in the patience and mercy of God!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Your Sins Are Forgiven

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courage, faith, forgive sins, forgiveness, heal, healing, humility, Jesus, Matthew, paralyzed, recognition, sinner, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

The gospel holds a question that I have never before stopped to consider in the way I heard it today. As I reflected, I noticed even a lot more in the short passage that led me to a deeper place. In MT 9:1-8, Jesus has just returned to “his own town” where he encounters a paralyzed man, brought to him on a stretcher by people who obviously have faith in his power to heal. There is no conversation; Jesus just saw their faith and immediately said, “Courage, child, your sins are forgiven.”

I probably wouldn’t have thought much about the encounter in this very familiar passage but a second look at the entire event gave me much more to ponder. When the scribes who were in hearing distance thought to themselves that Jesus was speaking in a way that could be called blasphemy (speaking sacrilegiously about God or sacred things), Jesus knew what they were thinking and asked them, “Why do you harbor evil thoughts? Which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven’ or ‘Rise and walk?’ My guess is they were quite surprised that he was reading their thoughts.

My original intent in writing about this passage was to consider the question just raised by Jesus. I wondered what the scribes would have answered if Jesus had given them a chance. He did not do that, however, but indicated that his purpose was to show his “authority on earth to forgive sins” rather than his ability to heal the body. Most likely because they were not at a level of development to understand what that meant, he then told the man to “rise, pick up your stretcher and go home.” The conclusion of the passage illustrates a lack of understanding on the part of the whole crowd of who Jesus really was, noting that “when the crowds saw this they were struck with awe and glorified God who had given such authority to men.”

So what is my point? In a sense it is the thought I started with: a consideration of internal and external healing. We are living in a time when the consciousness of the connection of body, mind and spirit is evident in the literature of mainstream culture as well as in spiritual circles. Meditation is touted as essential to health and wholeness as is physical exercise. Healing of memories is as important as dealing with present-day conflicts. The soul and the body are both in need of healing. Jesus was talking about the former while observers were waiting for the cure of the latter.

My wondering has now come full circle. My question to myself was: If I were the paralyzed person to whom Jesus said, “Your sins are forgiven,” would I be shocked and resistant at being judged a sinner (and thereby, probably not cured) or would I recognize the need for forgiveness and let that be enough, whether or not my body was freed from paralysis? It’s a question of humility and recognition, it seems, as well as a trust in God’s unconditional love that takes more than a quick look inside to answer honestly.

 

 

 

 

 

Eye Problems

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conversation, differences, eye, Jesus, judging others, live and let live, Matthew, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, tragic flaws

Sometimes I’m convinced that I have something in my eye but it turns out that my 70-year old eyes just need a little lubrication on occasion. That’s an easy fix as were the days when, as a child, I occasionally had to go to my mother for help with getting something tiny like a fleck of dirt or – at worst – an eyelash out of my eye. It was always amazing how much larger the offending material appeared than it really was.

Jesus must have been really disturbed by the judgmental behavior of his disciples in today’s gospel text to use such hyperbolic language about seeing clearly. It’s that quote from Matthew 7:1-5 where he warns them to stop judging unless they want to be similarly judged. His follow-up question points to just how serious an infraction judging people is. “Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye” he says, “but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own eye?” Even a wooden splinter would be quite painful.

It seems to me that judging others is one of our most common “tragic flaws.” We judge people by what they wear, how they style their hair, the color of their skin and where they live as represented by the accent in their speech. How ridiculous is that? One of the more recent red flags for harsh judgment is body art (tattoos) or piercings. Before judging why someone would want to “do that to their body,” we might want to think about that “why” question.

I could go on but I already clearly experienced the message in the middle of the second paragraph when I had to stop writing and put drops in my eyes. (This is not a joke. I really had to do that!) So here’s a suggestion that might make a difference in our consciousness. Before we decide to just “live and let live,” why not strike up a conversation with someone different in some way from you and see if you can come to understand just a bit more deeply why the person looks, speaks or acts in a different manner from you. If we do that, maybe we wouldn’t need so much help getting those planks out of our eyes!

 

 

 

 

 

Feed the Birds

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abundance, caring, generosity, God, Matthew, nature, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

I smile as I read the gospel this morning (MT 6:24-34) about how God cares for the lilies of the field and the birds of the air – and, of course, us. I’m thinking two thoughts in relation to the encouragement of that passage as God has a team of helpers at our house.

1.  Sister Elizabeth loves to watch the birds so we have feeders out – one for those eating “regular” food, one suet cake cage for the woodpeckers whose beaks must be made of iron and one summer addition filled with a sweet concoction for the hummingbirds who are only here for a few months in the summer. This year we have a new phenomenon with that last delight. What is meant to feed only the hummingbirds (who are an amazement to watch) has been discovered by almost all the birds – first the glorious Baltimore orioles, then the wrens and now even the small woodpeckers who may have eaten elsewhere and just come for dessert! How like me they are, preferring a sweet dessert to any other food they can find. Sugar water would certainly be preferable to plain old seeds for me if I were a bird. And since that feeder is attached to the glass door outside the kitchen, there are new diners to enjoy at all hours of the day. We can only wish that a few of them were window washers as well since some are very messy consumers!
2. Sister Paula loves creatures of all kinds and delights in watching them frolic or just pass through our yard each day which some do several times in 24 hours, knowing there will always be food from her hands. I am often surprised that some of them can still walk since they are not blessed with the sense of knowing when enough is enough for a meal.

How can I not smile as I see this reflection of God’s abundance and generosity played out daily right here in my own home?

 

 

 

 

 

I’ll Take the Risk

Tags

enemies, hate, judge, love, Matthew, open heart, pray, relationship, see, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

Today’s gospel (MT 5:43-48) is one that can make me feel as if it would be easier to go back to sleep. Turning over and saying, “Sorry, God. Those questions are too hard for this time in the morning” seems reasonable. It never works, though, because the questions keep nagging.

• If you love those who love you, what recompense will you have?
• If you greet your brothers only, what is unusual about that?

In truth, it’s easy to “hate” (too strong a word for my vocabulary these days) people that I have never met because there has been no energy exchange between us and I have no measure that has come from conversation with them. If I only know about people from what others have said, I may judge from externals rather than the depth of their hearts. I’m not saying that every person in the world is worthy of relationship but dismissing people because of hearsay is not fair. What room does that leave for conversion? Sometimes people who seem unlovable have grown that way because of never having been loved by anyone in their lives. Maybe we are called to be just what they need to see a different way to live. Jesus said, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” He knew how to do it and is willing to help us, I think, if we sincerely want to move toward unconditional love.

None of this means that we need to embrace the horrific actions of criminals. What it does mean, to me, is that everyone lives in the circle of God’s love and, if we work to keep our hearts open to possibility, we may just lift up the world a tiny bit toward the good. I’m willing to give it a try.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Be Careful What You Ask For!

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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.

 

 

 

 

 

Easter…and Beyond

Tags

aloneness, Easter, faith journey, hear, Holy Week, light, Matthew, prayer, Seder, silence, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

We have arrived. “It is the first day”, the saying goes, “of the rest of our lives.” It is the first day of April, the month when we expect great flowerings – in our weather, our gardens and, hopefully, our life. We have survived the winter, some with great stress and destruction, and though it seems to be hanging on, we need to remember that the resistance of Mother Earth can be as strong as our own when it comes to change.

I just went back and read each of my posts for the past week. It was a different kind of Holy Week for me. I wait each year to dive into the meaningful rituals that put me in touch with the life and death of Jesus like no other moment in the year has the power to achieve. I have done that at home this year, having spent much of the winter in respiratory distress and not willing to give or bring home the germs so universally prevalent in the crowds of worshippers during this season. Oh yes, and by Palm Sunday, I had contracted a serious cold and sinus infection that sealed my decision to walk the way of the week at home. It was a surrender that was difficult but, in the end, meaningful.

Going to one’s room and closing the door is a well-known directive offered by Jesus in the gospel of Matthew (6:6) as a significant way to pray. He promised that the God to whom we “pray in secret” in that silence and aloneness will hear and reward the prayer. I can say that this has happened in flashes of insight during the week, coming to a deeper sense of what it must have been like for Jesus and how the events can influence my willingness to live more directly in the manner of Jesus. The most significant learning from the week, however, has been the recognition of the importance of community for spiritual support.

Each year on Holy Thursday, my local community celebrates a Seder meal, commemorating the Last Supper of Jesus with his disciples and in solidarity with the worldwide Jewish community celebrating the Passover. We eat the ritual foods and recount the history of the Hebrews in the same manner as our Jewish neighbors. We pray for the peace of Jerusalem and give thanks for the providence of God that has kept us safe in the past year.

As we concluded the Seder this year, and as I have reflected today on the entire week, I recognize the significance to my faith journey of the presence of companions. While I am able to meditate in private on the articles of faith and the events that inform our practice, it is the energy shared in the rituals as well as the experience of the rituals themselves by the gathered community that is at the heart of it all. I can sing alone and hear my voice proclaim a gospel text alone, but the light of the Easter candle burns brightly only as the light is passed from person to person so that it illuminates the whole room.

I will carry my portion of the light, hopefully as it has been made brighter by this insight, back into the community of the faithful in the coming days. Writing that, I remember a quote from long ago that seems apropos for my metaphor and a good image of possibility. Simple but profound, it declares: Easter people everywhere, shining Jesus love!

Happy, blessed Easter to all of us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Just Man

Tags

Father, feast day, fidelity, interiority, Jesus, just man, Luke, Matthew, obedience, silence, Sisters of St. Joseph, St. Joseph, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

I was in my car and on the road at 6:17 this morning, traveling to participate in the 6:45 liturgical celebration of St. Joseph’s feast day with my friends, Florence and Anne. Rarely would I be up and out that early but it is Florence’s 60th anniversary in the Sisters of St. Joseph and she has been friend, sister and mentor to me for 47 years now, so the early call was certainly worth the trip. (The raspberry scones and coffee that followed were an added treat as well!)

When there is conversation about St. Joseph, the introductory sentence most often goes something like this: “We don’t know much about Joseph, except that he was a just man, the husband of Mary and (foster) father of Jesus.” I was thinking about this during the liturgy this morning as Father Charles elaborated a bit about Joseph’s character as a devoted husband and father.

The deep feeling of love and respect for Joseph, not only of Sisters of St. Joseph but people the world over, speaks to me of the power and value of communal reflection. Stories of Joseph, prayers said to him, and reports of “favors” granted because of faith in his intercession with God have been a part of Christian tradition since the beginning. What I have learned and loved most about this man from it all is the clear sense of his silence. Joseph spoke no word that is related in Scripture but the stories told about him – his fidelity to Mary and Jesus, his obedience to the messages that allowed him to keep them safe, and his trust in God permeate the early chapters of Matthew and Luke, convincing me of his deep listening and contemplation.

In this world of noise and hurry we would do well to pause and be grateful for such a model of interiority, respect and care. May today include that moment and a blessing for Sisters of St. Joseph everywhere!

 

 

 

 

 

A Cry Heard in Ramah

Tags

children, Herod, jeremiah, massacre, Matthew, parents, prophecy, Ramah, sorrow, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, violence

Today is not a happy remembrance in the calendar of Church feasts. It is the commemoration of “the Holy Innocents,” the victims of Herod’s massacre of all the baby boys under two years old. Herod was determined to eliminate the possibility that someone – a “new-born” king (Jesus) – would usurp his power. Since he had no idea of where that child might be found, his rage prompted the terrible deed that left so many mothers bereft. It was a fruitless gesture, as violence always is, because Jesus and his parents were well on their way to Egypt when the massacre occurred.

This violence is replicated in our time whenever war and senseless killing happens around the world. I see in my mind’s eye faces of Syrian children in the bombed-out buildings in Aleppo. Closer to home are the images of Sandy Hook just five years ago this month. Although murder is always difficult to endure, the tragedy always seems more horrific when innocent children are killed almost before their lives have begun.

I am praying for parents today, especially for mothers who have lost a child for any reason or no reason at all. For those whose children die because of senseless violence, drug abuse, war, starvation, traffic or other accidents, suicide…so many causes that leave a gaping hole in the hearts of those left behind.

The poignant message of today’s gospel, which Matthew (MT 2:18) saw as
the fulfillment of Jeremiah’s prophecy, calls for our prayer for the sorrowing today. We cannot ignore the pain of his words that speak to the cry heard in our own day around the world: “A voice was heard in Ramah, sobbing and loud lamentation; Rachel weeping for her children, and she would not be consoled, since they were no more.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sheep

Tags

care, Christ the King, Ezekiel, Good Shepherd, homelessness, humanity, hunger, illness, justice, love, Matthew, Psalm 23, sheep, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

I just spent about a half hour reading on the internet about sheep. I never got past the basic information about things like their color (some are very dark brown while most are white), life expectancy (10 – 12 years), amazing peripheral vision (270-320 degrees) which allows them to see behind them, two sets of teeth, excellent hearing and scent glands in front of their eyes and between their toes!!

As I read of their history and the places where they are found (mostly now in Australia, New Zealand, south and central South America and the British Isles) and of their habits, I realized how little I know of these members of the animal kingdom. Much of what I know is from shopping for sweaters, from a few movies about sheep farmers and – of course – from Scripture.

Today, the “Solemnity of Christ the King” offers Scripture texts that use sheep as a metaphor to speak of the kind of king we envision as the “Lord of Heaven and Earth.” The gospel (MT 25) describes a king who rules not with an iron hand but one who “separates the sheep from the goats” at the end of time with the law of love. The measure of this kind of justice is care for the neighbor: feeding, clothing, sheltering and visiting the sick and imprisoned. The surprise is the revelation that when we think our love of neighbor is just simple human charity and do it naturally, God sees it as “superhuman,” a godly act. Or maybe there is no difference…

Of the most universally recognized Scripture passages, those that describe God in the role of shepherd – today in Ezekiel 34 and Psalm 23 – are most familiar. Thus, it was not Jesus that first conjectured God’s action in this way; it had been part of the tradition for centuries before his time. Throughout all the tumult of the history of the “chosen people” (among whom we now count ourselves) the thread of God as shepherd has been the model for ruler and servant as well. And we, as God’s flock, can be assured that we will be cared for as those in the charge of a “good” shepherd are. Whether we stay close in the sheepfold or wander off, we can be sure we will always be under the eye of the One who comes searching for us until we are found.

Why, then, would we not care for one another as we ourselves are always cared for? “God is God and we are not,” we might answer. “There is so much hunger and homelessness and illness in the world; how can we solve it all?” “You aren’t the only sheep in the flock. Stay with the flock and just do your part,” I hear God saying to us. “Follow my lead and don’t feel like you have to do it all. Just do your part, and leave the rest to me.” Put that way, it might just be a question of exercising our humanity after all…