Standing With Each Other

Tags

courage, helpless, Holy Week, lament, loss, Notre Dame, Our Lady of Guadalupe, pain, pray, presence, suffering, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

This morning as I read the psalm of the day (69) on the USCCB website I was reminded of the prayer service that we prepared in December for the feast of Our Lady of Guadeloupe, a prayer of lamentation for the caravan of migrants streaming toward the southern border of the United States. Bereft and sorrowful because of great loss, God’s people are searching for comfort and consolation in the present in the same manner as has been true throughout the ages. This seeking, I realize, can be an inner or outer experience – or both – and I find it again appropriately expressed in the paragraph below that was an introductory reflection for our prayer service in December.

Lament is a tool that God’s people use to navigate pain and suffering. Lament is a vital prayer for the people of God because it enables them to petition for God to help deliver them from distress, suffering and pain. Lament prayer is designed to persuade God to act on the sufferer’s behalf. Lament is often most effective as a communal activity. Reading and reflection are intended to express empathy for people suffering as a result of great loss.

Today the flames that devastated the cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris have died out but the reality of the loss as seen in the photos rends our hearts. As was true at our prayer service, I believe that the spontaneous gathering of thousands in the Paris streets – inhabitants and visitors alike – who stood and wept, prayed and sang as the cathedral burned must have felt the power of community in that excruciatingly helpless moment.

On this middle day of Holy Week, I wonder if Jesus felt the lament of the few faithful ones who remained with him at the cross. Can we feel the reality of his suffering as present in the world today and enter in a true and visceral way to stand with those who deserve our presence and courage?

Too Deep for Words

Tags

body of Christ, crucifixion, Good Friday, lament, pain, silence, sorrow, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

Today, sorrow and lament fill the praying world as ritual attempts in word and song and sometimes even gesture to reach the depth of pain that is recalled to us from across the ages as “the scandal of the cross,” the suffering and death of Jesus. If awake enough, we see this suffering repeated again and again in our own time and know it as a vivid manifestation of the pain body of Christ. In that way it becomes our pain as well since we are not separate but merely different cells in that very real and present body.

There is nothing we can say that approaches the profundity of that truth, that mystery. There is only silence…

 

 

 

 

 

The Sorrowful Mother

Tags

Blessed Mother, faith, grace, Hurricane Harvey, Mary, mother, mourning, Our Lady of Sorrows, pain, Syrian refugees, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, trust

Today our Church remembers Mary under the title of “Our Lady of Sorrows.” There are many feasts in our Church calendar honoring Mary but, this year especially, I find this one particularly poignant as images arise of present-day mothers. I see Syrian refugee mothers cradling their hungry and frightened toddlers, then a mother reaching out of a helicopter to fetch her child from the basket that has saved her little one as it saved her from the swirling waters of Hurricane Harvey, then a young mother at the side of her ten-year old child’s hospital bed, then a would-be mother mourning her miscarriage…

It is no wonder that mothers the world over (like my own) are known to have deep devotion to the Blessed Mother, herself unwed and a frightened teenager at the start, but one who trusted God’s grace to sustain her. In her faith she became strong enough to weather all the storms of motherhood, even to seeing her son executed in a horrible death. So many women can look to Mary to understand the pain of the various circumstances of their motherly lives.

Today I will pray for mothers young and old, happy and sad, fulfilled and unfulfilled, struggling or joyous (or both!) and ask God’s blessing on all who take on this role that they may find solace in the company of women and encouragement in the timeless witness of Mary, mother to all.

Letting Go

Tags

A Deep Breath of Life, accept, Alan Cohen, change, desires, divine, free, greater good, letting go, pain, Peace, resistance, service, surrender, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

In our conversations this weekend about Mary Magdalene and Conscious Love, we have often spoken of the need to surrender to life, letting go of our “small-self” desires in service to the greater good. In our meditation sessions, we let go of any thoughts that arise in order to allow us to be present to the Divine. I found a resonance in Alan Cohen’s reflection for today in his book, A Deep Breath of Life, that seems appropriate to share as we depart from this very valuable group experience. Cohen writes:

True mastery lies in flowing with the events of life. We are empowered when we assume that everything comes from God and goes back to God. Nothing in form lasts forever, and when we can accept change, we are free. All pain is born of resistance. An attitude of non-resistance liberates tremendous energy. Pain arises when we fight against what is happening, and peace comes when we accept what is.

Cohen then proceeds to ask two questions: What in your life are you resisting? and How much peace could you gain by letting what is, be? Those seem worthy of some reflection as we begin a new week…

The Fuller’s Lye

Tags

clean, fuller, growth, Jesus, lessons, Malachi, openness, pain, prophecy, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, willingness

I’m thinking about laundry this morning, specifically the necessity of working really hard to get spots off clothes – usually new ones that I’ve just worn for the first or second time. It would be nice to just drop a little bleach on the salad dressing or beet juice or whatever has created the offending stain, but that only means total ruin of the garment. It might have helped the biblical fuller though – the one from the third chapter of Malachi (3:2) where “the one who is to come” will be like the refiner’s fire or like the fuller’s lye. I remember from my childhood that lye soap was the strongest kind, used in the big laundry sink where clothes got really scrubbed on the washboard. It’s a vague memory, blotted out by modern conveniences like a wringer-less washing machine and every kind of spot remover possible to human invention. Our lives have been made easier in lots of ways but it would be unfortunate to lose the meaning of this analogy in Malachi’s prophecy.

I understand the process of what happens in a refinery to produce pure gold or silver – leaving the dross behind in that hottest of hot fires. Less easy to comprehend, perhaps, in this age of progress is the work of the fuller, who not only scrubbed and picked at the material (usually wool, I think) but beat it with a stick or some other hard object to get out all the natural oils and impurities before weaving or selling it.

I think, as I look back on my life, there have been times of significant growth occasionally brought on by the pain that can accompany purification in some way.  More often, however, it is simply life experience that has taught me the lessons necessary to moving deeper in consciousness. I’ve missed some of the signs along the way, but those are the times when something more blatant happens to wake me up and helps me to let go of what holds me bound. Interestingly, as I get older, the fire seems less hot and the lye less abrasive or caustic as I welcome rather than resist the refining as a step closer to “the finished product.”

I think that might just be one of the things that Jesus came to teach us, so that as we welcome him on Sunday, we do it with an openness and a willingness to learn the hard lessons. In the end, that should stand us in good stead to greet God as brilliant garments wrapped in purest gold.

Big Love

Tags

bad news, big love, curious, engaged, example, humanity, Hurricane Matthew, listen, love, Meg Wheatley, open our hearts, pain, pray, quiet, reality of pain, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, Turning To One Another, world

I am probably going to sound like a broken record today but in the face of all the “bad news” that greeted me when I turned on my computer this morning, I can’t help it. It would be easy to stay frozen in my rocking chair and figuratively “bury my head in the sand” knowing all the devastation of hurricane Matthew thus far in the Caribbean and anticipating “his” arrival in the United States or reading so many e-mails asking prayers for loved ones diagnosed with terminal diseases. I won’t even begin to talk about politics and the state of our nation! For solace I turned to Meg Wheatley. She quoted Sharon Salzberg’s concise dictum that I believe could solve everything if we could just intuit the depth of meaning in it and choose to embrace it fully. Salzberg says:

Only love is big enough to hold all the pain in this world.

She doesn’t say that love is big enough to minimize the pain or eradicate the pain or (God forbid) help us ignore the pain. She calls us to see that only in recognizing and being willing to embrace the reality of pain in our lives and in the larger world in solidarity with each other will we be able to endure. Meg Wheatley then adds, I think of a gesture of love as anything we do that helps others discover their humanity. Any act where we turn to one another. Open our hearts. Extend ourselves. Listen. Any time we’re patient. Curious. Quiet. Engaged…I feel we become more fully human through our generosity, when we extend to another rather than withdraw into ourselves. (Turning to One Another, p. 138)

It’s okay to start small. Read the news. Pray for one situation, one person to get better. Make a phone call to use your voice for good. Show up when it counts. Be a good example to a teenager. Get used to practicing until “big love” is the only way you can imagine living, even though it is not the easiest way to live.

 

 

 

 

 

 

One Person’s Contribution

Tags

devastation, disaster, Flood, forest fire, guiding word, loss, love, pain, save the world, Sisters of St. Joseph, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, the spiritual center, truth

This morning I’ve been searching unsuccessfully in all my favorite sources for a way to express what I can only describe as the pain of the world – but not a universal pain. There is that, but the sadness/distress that washes over me now is closer to home, residing in Albany, New York, West Virginia and California. It is about fire and flood, the fire appearing on east and west coasts and the floods devastating so many lives in between. “We’ve lost everything” is the refrain from those whose homes are reduced to ash as well as people – young and old – who slog through mud still waiting for word of loved ones who may have been swept away by angry streams or rivers. One cannot help but weep for their pain. At the same time there are images of store and restaurant owners who open their larders to feed the people in their towns who have nothing. Groups form to shovel mud and fold donated clothes for the needy while others come to pray their grief and that of their neighbors.

I have watched news for months that tells of the devastation of a half-mile wide tornado or huge ice storm, but nothing has touched me as deeply as the past three days. Why is that? Are the losses greater or is it rather (or in addition) that a wider spaciousness for compassion is opening in me? Have the two brief reflections on mercy in which I participated during the last week sparked this response? Perhaps the energy shared at this weekend’s workshop here at the Spiritual Center, Windsor has had its effect on mine.

As I sit bathed in the beauty of a fresh breeze and peaceful greening outside, I hear inside a familiar guiding word from the founding documents of my religious community: The Sister of St. Joseph moves always toward profound love of God and love of neighbor, from whom she does not separate herself…Perhaps I am coming to understand that oneness in a deeper way now. I wonder, then, what is the call of that truth? “More love,” I hear in response. “So much love!” How that call will manifest remains to be seen but I know it does not happen in isolation. It is only together that we can, energetically at least, save the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Deafening Silence

Tags

body of Christ, Garden of Gethsemane, Great Vigil of Easter, inner stillness, Jesus, Last Supper, Lenten journey, pain, paschal mystery, silence, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, victims, violence

Last night I experienced what I have heard and said and sung for at least all of my adult life: We are the body of Christ. I entered a church already full of a great diversity of ages, nationalities and, thankfully, even races (although still in this valley we are in the majority Caucasian) where I could sense that nobody was there out of duty. We all came to enter into the Paschal Mystery that began with the “Last Supper” of Jesus with his disciples and will lead us through his death and burial into resurrection over these next three days. In welcoming all to the service, the music director instructed visitors that this was a place where everyone participated in both prayer and song – regardless of musical ability. And participate we did – from oldest to youngest – and I was struck by the ease with which everyone carried out their assigned duties. Especially notable were the children who served as acolytes and gave special assistance during the foot-washing and incensing both during the Eucharist and the procession to Gethsemane that followed. I was drawn along on the wave of devotion and feeling of family that is normative in that community and moved by the pastor’s comment during his homily that he was proud to serve at Our Lady of Good Counsel Church because it was such a caring and engaged community. It was obvious that the heart of Christ beats strongly there.

All that said, the most important facet of the experience was the quality of silence that followed the last hymn. The commentator, having explained that we were now “on watch” with Jesus at Gethsemane, called us into a silence that will last in the Church through today and until tomorrow evening at the Great Vigil of Easter. It was time, she said, for us to remain or to leave the church in silence. And that is what happened. Apart from footfalls, there was no sound heard in the hour that I remained. The silence was pervasive and profound. Whether people moved to the chapel representing the Garden of Gethsemane or stayed in the darkened church, not a sound was heard.

As I sat in that silence I became aware of an inner stillness that is rare for me. Even during my daily meditation I find my mind either racing or wandering and must keep emptying as soon as I catch the thoughts in order to come back to presence. There was none of that last night. No thought could penetrate that silence. The immensity of what we had shared of an event 2,000 years in the past collided with what had just happened in Belgium this week and there was no way to comprehend or even think about it all. I sat in utter stillness and in that state felt connected while also utterly alone. Upon reflection during my drive home, I sensed that I had touched something of what Jesus knew and felt in the darkness of that garden. This morning it expands to a sense of the immensity of pain that victims of violence and catastrophe around the world are feeling as I write. And it has only just begun…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Body of Hope

Tags

beatitudes, comforted, compassion, Corinthians, encouragement, holding one in prayer, Jesus, mourn, pain, suffering, the body of hope, The Sermon on the Mount, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

Perhaps because the weather promises to be wet and wild today, making my body know it is aging, my first thoughts upon waking were of suffering. Watching the news puts the topic front and center – especially because of all the destruction from floods and tornadoes – but also in my mind were so many conversations I have had over the past week with people whose lives have been tinged with sorrow or disease that has turned their world upside down. As is often the case, I found Scripture to be a reference for reflection on the topic and a place to find some solace. First it was Paul  who engaged the topic (2COR 1:1-7) saying, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of all compassion and the God of all encouragement, who encourages us in our every affliction, so that we may be able to encourage those who are in any affliction with the encouragement with which we ourselves are encouraged by God.” Although a little wordy, the meaning of Paul’s message should engage us, I think, in an inventory of all the times and ways that we have felt God’s presence in difficult circumstances. In that way, we might be able to listen deeply to others when they need an encouraging word or a shoulder to cry on. Note that I did not say “a solution to their suffering” because that is not always possible. Rather, Paul speaks about sharing in encouragement as we share in sufferings and thus have a hope born of compassion.

In addition to Paul’s voice, today we have the teaching of Jesus in his sermon called The Beatitudes or the Sermon on the Mount (MT 5:1-12) which includes Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. There is no when or how in the promise but only the promise itself. So I guess it all comes down to the theological virtue of hope. Just as in everyday life when we hope with expectation of fulfillment of our desires, so too in our faith. The added component for people of faith, however, is that as we place our trust in Christ’s promises, we rely not only on our own strength to realize our hopes but also on the grace of the Holy Spirit and the support of the community of believers.

All of this brings me back to my earliest thoughts, recalling those people whom I know to be in pain. Holding them in prayer – each in turn and all together – will be my responsibility and my offering today to the building up of the body of hope. Won’t you join me there?

Lifting Spirits

Tags

crushed in spirit, distress, He saves, heavy burden, loving energy, pain, psalm 34, suffering, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

As I read Psalm 34 this morning it was the refrain (vs. 19) that caught my attention and flooded me with images of faces near and far. There were families of murdered tour members in Tunisia, some in Israel who had hoped for a different election outcome and, closer to home, an e-mail from a friend letting me know that her dear cousin had succumbed to cancer. The depth and suffering of distress cannot be measured by me unless it is my own but my heart goes out today to all whose pain is a heavy burden, sometimes feeling too much to bear. I pray that they might take comfort in the faith of which the psalmist sings: The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and those that are crushed in spirit he saves. I call us all to carry this verse as a companion today so that each time it comes to mind and touches our hearts we might send out loving energy to those most in need of our prayer around the world or in our own back yards. It is, perhaps, the best we can do.