St. Thomas Aquinas is called the “Angelic Doctor,” not for medical skills but for his philosophical writings and the scope of his scholarship. His biography oozes intelligence and diligence, seen in his effort to memorize the entire text of the Bible! I always shied away from this saint, fearing a lack of understanding of his work. (Who would think that the Summa Theologica (his summary of theology) could be grasped without a PhD? Little did I know that when I was singing the “Pange lingua” (Sing my tongue the Savior’s glory…) during the Holy Thursday procession in Church every year with full voice and full devotion, that he was the author of that great hymn. I knew nothing of his appreciation for all of nature and of his poetic heart. Today I am happy to celebrate this great saint on his feast!
In a poetic translation of the works of twelve masters of spirituality, I found a Thomas of Aquinas that I could love and try to understand. Here is one of his reflections that translator Daniel Ladinsky offers under the title, “Whenever He Looks At You:”
“God sees nothing in us that He has not given. Everything is empty until He places what He wishes into it. The soul is like an uninhabited world that comes to life only when God lays his head against us. The delight a child can know tossing a ball in the air my Lord confesses He experiences whenever he looks at you. God sees nothing that He has not given.”
From the mouth of Moses to the gospel of Mark the Scriptures repeat the same message about how we are to live. We hear it today, not in a long diatribe but rather a brief directive about love. When asked what is the first and greatest commandment, we can all likely reply – at least with the short form of “Love God and love your neighbor as yourself.” The deep impact of what that effort calls out from us, however, is in the almost staccato list of capacities that follows. We are to love God with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind and with all our strength. In other words: Give it all you’ve got!
Here’s a prayer-poem from John Philip Newell that we might might save and pull out on days when the air is heavy with the rain of the night or the scent of the soil that makes one want to go out and dig in the dirt. (Or is it just me?)
Late yesterday just after I had arrived at the party marking the 85th birthday of my friend, Florence, the skies opened and gave a torrential drink of water to the parched earth. Just before I left an hour later to return to the retreat I was hosting at home, the rain stopped. Sometimes things just happen that way. Had I been home without a group of people wrapping up an afternoon of deep reflection, I would have loved to go outside and let myself be washed by the cooling water falling from the sky, as I symbolically felt the sensation of having all things being made new. I opted instead for the reasonable option of staying dry.
Psalm 119, the longest in the book of 150 psalms, has 176 verses and can be the study of a lifetime. In a commentary this morning I read that the subject of these prayers is the hard learning one gains in light of a multitude of hardships and circumstances encountered on the spiritual path…Experiences are often repeated again and again. As we go over the same territory learning it in new ways, truth becomes grounded. Insights are gained from each spiral of ascending experience.
As the curtain opens on another season of Lent and we gear up for repentance and renewal, the prophet Joel is way out ahead of us announcing God’s invitation. “Even now,” God says…”Even now,” the poet Christopher Fry writes in the play, A Sleep of Prisoners, “when wrong comes up to face us till we take the longest stride of soul we ever took…” 
This morning as I read Psalm 86 I thought of how blessed I am with good friends to whom I can go for comfort in troubled times. There are moments, however, when it is only God who will suffice as a sounding board – or when it feels as if that is true. When I have acted in a less than worthy manner or judged someone unjustly, I am likely to first seek God’s forgiveness until I work up the courage and humility to admit my fault to a human being. Excuses abound for bad behavior and it is only when the layers of babble are stripped away – usually in conversation with God – that I dare to admit my need for forgiveness. How blessed are we, therefore, to have a God whose name is Love! I am grateful to the psalmist today – and to the translator – for these comforting words that give me pause.