Ministry, Anyone?

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healing, Jesus, love your neighbor as yourself, Mark, ministry, needs, pray, recharge, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

Today’s gospel (MK 1:29-39) finds Jesus very busy. The text recounts his ministry in this manner: he goes to synagogue (likely to preach) with some of his disciples, then to the house of Simon Peter whose mother-in-law lies ill. He heals her, eats a meal, maybe has a little respite and then spends what appears to be a very long time healing all those who came to him with various maladies. Hoping for a little time to himself and God, he gets up before dawn the next day and goes to a deserted place to pray where, hopefully he got a brief chance to recharge. Nevertheless, he was interrupted by his friends who found him and said, “Everyone is looking for you.” His response sounds immediate and affirmative. “Let us go on to nearby villages,” he said, “that I may preach there also. For this purpose have I come.”

I often feel sorry for Jesus who always seemed to be at the mercy of others – often large crowds – as he performed the ministry of itinerant preacher and inspired teacher. But then I think of what ministry is about. I’m not just thinking of people who work for a church or a charitable organization. Rather, ministry engages those who follow the dictum of Jesus to love your neighbor as yourself knowing that ministry isn’t always easy or conformable to a schedule. Responding to needs can be a messy business and sometimes it’s difficult to distinguish what is correct action in the moment. In the long run, however, the example of Jesus is quite convincing that following his lead is its own reward.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Faithful Witnesses

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Acts of the Apostles, faith, foundation, ministry, Paul, Peter, repentance, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

We all come to faith – and almost anything in life – in different ways. For some faith is a stumbling toward God that is motivated by internal promptings and inexplicable knowing. For others the path is immediately clear and grasped in a fullness that is never let go. Some of us inherit our religion from our family line and others try on different denominations and/or practices to see what fits.

Peter and Paul, probably the best known characters (in every sense of that word) in the Christian Scriptures and Tradition, had very different early lives and faith experiences. Peter, the fisherman, was the impulsive, “jump right in” kind of guy who often had to retrace his steps in repentance. His heart was large and loving, however, and the time he spent in the company of Jesus prepared him to endure everything that came after with a passion that served him to and through his horrific death.

Paul was a Roman citizen, a fact that sources say implies that he was moderately well-off, and which granted him a certain respect wherever he went in the Empire. Unlike Peter, Paul never met Jesus so didn’t have the advantage of experiencing the personal charisma and teaching that had so convinced Peter that Jesus was the true Messiah. In fact, Paul spent time persecuting people like Peter so, like us, his conversion had to take place through the agency of others. Unlike most of us, however, the Scriptures tell us a fantastical story of Paul’s conversion that was so complex it would have been difficult to ignore – or to allow Paul to return to his former life. (see ACTS 9:1-19)

The stories in the Acts of the Apostles chronicle the ministry of these two Christian giants as they traveled and facilitated the spread of Christianity in the known world. Today the Church celebrates one feast to honor both of them. How might we honor these two men whose paths to greatness were diverse but converged to provide a foundation in the earliest days of the Christian era? Perhaps we ought to examine our own willingness to commit to our calling. How authentic is our living in the everyday journey that we walk? Are there moments of recognition that strengthen us for fidelity to our life purpose? Do we share what we come to know for the good of others? Can we hear the testimony of prophets and judge truth, regardless of the personality that delivers the message? Many questions…to be answered by each of us out of our own personal experience and belief.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Things Visible and Invisible

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awareness, consciousness, John, Mary Magdalene, ministry, Peter, possibility, remember, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, thin places

I  was just watching the steam rise and dance around the rim of my coffee cup. That means my coffee is hot and my bedroom is cold. A bird just flew past outside my window with nothing to hold it up but the air and reminds me of the marvel of airplane travel. This morning’s gospel (JN 6:16-21) has the disciples in a boat – a familiar theme – and says that “the sea was stirred up because a strong wind was blowing.” Occasionally it seems that those fishermen who could probably read the weather well in most cases were surprised by sudden winds – not unlike the tornadoes that have devastated whole towns in our country recently. All of these meandering thoughts remind me that there’s more to life than meets the eye and sometimes we’re called to believe in what we are unable to see or understand.

Next weekend I’m leading a 24-hour retreat based on four of the post-resurrection appearances of Jesus so I’m wondering what it must’ve been like for Mary Magdalene in the garden, the disciples in the Upper Room, the two travelers on the road to Emmaus and Peter and friends on the beach where Jesus fixed them breakfast. Jesus appears in substantial ways (“in the flesh”) but walks through walls or disappears when recognized, so he is obviously different while seeming the same. (Thomas could certainly attest to this fact.) What are we to make of these stories? Is the point to reassure those he visits that all is well? If so, his messages to Mary Magdalene (“Don’t cling to me!”) and Peter (“When you’re old, you’ll be led down ways you would rather not go…”) were certainly lacking in encouragement. It does seem rather that Christ is trying to tell those left behind that now the ministry is theirs. He has done what he came to do and now they must carry on. They have everything they need – all that he taught them and the example that he gave. The work will be to remember the lessons and to look for him in places outside of the norm – the “thin places,” the Celts would say. Listening for him in the wind and catching his look in the faces of those to whom we serve breakfast in a homeless shelter, hearing his voice in the garden we are weeding or on our morning walk…these are the moments of encounter that cannot be predicted.

So today is a new beginning. The steam is gone as I take the last gulp of my coffee but I remember the way it swirled around the rim calling me to consciousness and possibility in this day. Being alive and trusting that Christ lives in me as my deepest self is enough for me. What about you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Musing at Sunrise

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apostles, call to prayer, clarity, dawn, Jesus, Mark, ministry, mountain, prayer, Sisters of St. Joseph, summon, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

I’m sitting in my assigned bedroom at our Motherhouse, three stories off the ground. I am here until tomorrow for meetings and had determined to sleep as long as I could this morning. Having retired before 10:00pm, I was not surprised to read 6:22 on the clock in my room when I woke; it was enough sleep. Although the temptation to put off the inevitable moment of rising was strong, I was won over by the beauty of the morning star, the deep, deep blue of the sky and a thin line of magenta light out my window in the east. I have not been disappointed with the progress of the dawning day.

This morning’s gospel (MK 3:13-19) has Jesus going up a mountain – a place he often chooses for prayer. I’m not surprised at his choice as the view is always better on the heights (as I can attest this morning); clarity is not often interrupted by sight or sound. There is a lot more to reflect on in the passage from this morning. Take just the following lines (a shortened version):

Jesus went up the mountain and summoned those whom he wanted and they came to him. He named them (the Twelve) Apostles and anointed them to preach and to drive out demons.

It sounds like Jesus went up the mountain with a purpose. Was there a crowd following him or had he already invited some people along on his journey? “Summoning” seems more determinative that inviting, especially as the gospel indicates that he wanted these particular “Twelve.” What did he see in them? There must’ve been more than good personality traits, although those are generally indicative of something deeper, because preaching and driving out demons/healing are rather specific skills. Or did the call of Jesus begin the transformation that allowed these skills to manifest in those chosen? I am most interested in the fact that these were those he wanted to be with him and they came. What that says to me is that Jesus was not interested in doing his ministry alone; he desired companions. What more might be discovered from a longer reflection on these words? I’ll have to let it sit in me since the long awaited sun just peeked out over Troy, New York and is now blazing forth with a call to prayer with my companions of the day, the Sisters who are likely already in the chapel waiting on the Lord. Such are the blessings to me this morning!

Good Behavior

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Jesus, John, lesson, ministry, motivations of others, Peter, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

Today’s gospel reading is the conclusion of John’s account (21:20-25). As is sometimes the case, Peter is concerned about something that warrants correction from Jesus. As they are walking along Peter turns and sees John following so he says to Jesus, “Lord, what about him?” Jesus answers (in a rather uncharacteristically abrupt way), “What if I want him to remain until I come? What concern is it of yours? You follow me.” There’s more here, obviously, than if Peter and Jesus were going to someone’s house for dinner. Jesus is about to leave the planet and he could be speaking of the way Peter is to follow in his footsteps, i.e. to crucifixion. Also, this is John’s account so he (or the members of his community who wrote the text) probably wants to have the last word about the ministry continuing. But just taking the words at face value, I see a lesson. Sometimes we are overly concerned about the actions and motivations of others. It could be when we’re at a meeting, involved in a project or dealing with our children who want to let us know what is and is not fair. I have often heard that no matter how many people we are involved with in life, we are ultimately responsible for ourselves; we go to heaven alone. There is sometimes a fine line between caring for the welfare of others (which we must do) and taking over responsibility for their actions (which we must not). Today, then, I am grateful to Peter for the word that says in essence: “Mind your own business.”

Step Aside

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100 Maxims of Perfection, Acts of the Apostles, credit, Jerusalem, Jesus, John, maxims, ministry, Paul, praise, take up the task, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

One of the tasks of our novitiate days was to learn the 100 Maxims of Perfection that were part of the early documents of our founders in the 17th century. I don’t recall how many I actually committed to memory back then but only a few pop up these days in certain circumstances, most frequently the one that says, “Always interpret everything in the most favorable sense.” It doesn’t hurt that it is one of the shortest, but it is also quite helpful in those moments of teetering on the edge of negativity.

In this morning’s lectionary readings, Jesus and Paul deliver a message in practically the same words. Paul is preparing to leave, not only the town of Ephesus but the entire province of Asia, to go to Jerusalem where he is not certain of his fate. (ACTS 20:17-27) He speaks to the people about his service to the gospel, performed “in all humility…bearing witness to what I received from the Lord Jesus…not shrinking from telling them what was for their benefit” regardless of the danger to himself. In the gospel that is part of the “farewell discourse” (JN 17:1-11), Jesus is speaking to God rather than to the people, but with a similar witness. He summarizes for God (and maybe himself) his fidelity to the mission saying, “I glorified you on earth by accomplishing the work you gave me to do…I revealed your name to those whom you gave me…they accepted [the words] and…they have believed that you sent me.” Jesus was also on his way to Jerusalem, accepting the fate that he was to meet there.

In reading these two accounts I had the strong feeling that there were implications of a further meaning. It was as if they were each saying, “I’ve done what I was sent to do in the best way that I could. Now it’s up to you who are reading these words to take up the task.” It reminded me of our maxim: “Advance good works to near their completion and then, when it can be done without effort, step aside and let others take the credit.” It’s that last clause that is the difficult part. While it’s hard for some of us to give over a task or a ministry to someone else if we have put our heart and soul into it, even more difficult, I think, is allowing others to get the credit. We all want to be recognized – not a bad thing. The question to be asked in situations like that, perhaps, is “Am I doing this because it is something important to be done, something I care about? Or am I doing it so people (and God) will praise me for doing it?” As I continue to grow in willingness to what awaits me each day, I’m grateful for those maxims that still live in me, calling me always to more love in the manner of Jesus and St. Paul.

Fully Human

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apostles, burdens, compassionate, concern, generous, human, humanity, Jesus, Mark, ministry, rest, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

Over the past century we have come to know – because of advances in science and theology – that Mark’s gospel was the first of the four to be written. As such, there is more of a slant toward the humanity of Jesus than, for example, in the gospel of John (the last of the four) which did not appear until the beginning of the second century and was highly influenced by Greek philosophy, tending toward the divinity of Christ. This morning Mark gives us two examples of the humanity of Jesus (MK 6:30-34).

The apostles have come back from a missionary trip and are reporting “all that they had done and said.” Jesus, ever the compassionate one, says to them, “Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest awhile.” It’s as if a pastor noted all the work his staff had put into the activities of the Lenten season and said to them during Easter week, “Let’s find a place where we can have a nice lunch and maybe go swimming or catch a movie…” just to be together and be at peace. It might be easier to accomplish that now than in the situation of the apostles when the crowd saw them leave in a boat, figured out where they were going and followed them, so that when they disembarked there was a “vast crowd” already gathered. Scripture tells us that when Jesus saw them all “his heart was moved with pity for them because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.”

These are images of a fully human Jesus who recognized the burdens of ministry and tried for some “down time” with those closest to him. Couples who have babies know what that’s like as do AA sponsors or doctors or maybe even all the rest of us. It’s hard not to be moved by the needs we see around us and do our best to respond. I hope that there was enough time in the boat to be restorative for the apostles and Jesus, just as those little breaks sometimes refresh tired souls in our day. We need those moments, as Jesus knew, to refresh ourselves and carry on.

This morning I’m grateful for Jesus, the fully human man, who was always concerned for those he loved and those he had never met until one moment when they showed up in a crowd. I want to be like him – compassionate and generous and, yes, knowing also the need for rest.